Indelible Love - Emily's Story (37 page)

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Authors: DW Cee

Tags: #romance, #love, #travel, #food, #breakup, #heart break, #young adult relationships

BOOK: Indelible Love - Emily's Story
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Jake broke from his conversation with
the vendor, and placed his arms around me. “Love, are those books
for you?”

“Um, no.” I dragged my
answer.

“Who are you buying them
for?”

I gave Jake a timid look. “The cook
book is for Nick, the architecture book is for Charlie, and the
Dickens’ book is for Max.”

If I looked tentative, Jake looked
unsettled.

“This is Max’s favorite book and I’d
really love to get his for him,” I explained
apologetically.

Jake quickly changed his hurt
expression to an approving nod. He accepted my desire to include
Max in my list of close friends, and even offered to pay for the
book.

“Let me get this for him,” he said. “I
need to thank him for helping us get back together. I might still
be looking for you if it weren’t for him.”

“Jake, that’s not necessary. Max
helped us both. He’ll feel weird if you pay for this. Let me get it
for him. You allowing me to do this is appreciation enough from
both of us.”

We both looked at each other and I
hugged him reassuringly.

“You are the only man I love. This
will never change, no matter what happens. Now…can we go have
lunch? I’m starving!” Hungry from a lack of breakfast and way too
much walking—the driver had spoiled me—we stopped in a tourist trap
and ate moule et frites. I polished off every last mussel and fry,
then asked the driver to take us into Ile Saint-Louis, one of the
two islands in the river Seine so we could eat at the most famous
ice cream shop. Sarah and I had visited this shop the last time I
was here. They made their ice cream only from milk, sugar, cream,
and eggs. Any other flavor added to the base was derived from
natural sources such as cocoa or vanilla. Two scoops of chocolate
chip ice cream later I was content to go back to the hotel. We had
accomplished much.

Back at the hotel, the bellhop helped
us carry all our presents up to my room. I sorely needed a nap, but
instead got changed for dinner and an opera. I dressed as quickly
as possible so I would not be in any compromising position like we
were the first night. When Jake came in the room, he looked
disappointed that I was ready to go. I chuckled to
myself.

“Honey, before we leave, I want to
give you something,” I said.

“Oh?” he asked in a naughty
way.

I ignored his comment and said, “Put
out your left hand.”

I took out a watch from my clutch and
placed it on his left wrist.

“What’s this?” he asked in a surprised
voice.

“I saw this at the jewelry shop and I
had to get it for you. It’s a vintage Patek Philippe circa 1944. I
noticed that you were partial toward Patek Philippes, and I thought
it would look nice on you. You like it?”

“Emi.” He sounded shocked,
appreciative, and above all, touched.

The look on Jake’s face stirred
another layer of emotion I’d never experienced before with him.
Sadly, I’d never really given anything to Jake. I’d always been on
the receiving end. How selfish of me. I could see why Jake fancied
giving me presents. His expression of love and appreciation gave me
goose bumps. The old adage of it’s better to give than to receive
rang true right now.

“When did you get this? I don’t think
I ever left your side. Also, this could not have been cheap. Why’d
you spend so much money on me?”

He had many more questions but I cut
him off and said, “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

Our dinner was located in the first
arrondissement. This two Michelin-starred restaurant was located in
an exquisite townhouse of a late duke. This historic location
produced the best meal we’d had so far, although it was a quick
meal, as we were running late. Our server rushed a rustic risotto
with frog’s legs that we shared because we were so full from lunch.
I deeply regretted having had so many mussels! For our main course,
we both ordered the langoustines in an interesting green tea sauce.
Both dishes were divine. I could see why they had earned three
Michelin stars since 1973 up till recently.

We rushed out of the restaurant and
got to the opera house just in time to watch La Donna del Lago.
Being in Paris, there were no English supertitles. It was hard to
follow. From time to time, Jake leaned over and whispered the plot
to me. After the show was over, we walked over to a local bistro to
have an espresso and dessert.

“I didn’t like this opera
as much as
Carmen
. I think I’ll have to study some more French when I get back
to the States. I couldn’t understand anything.”

Jake laughed at me. “When did you
learn French in the first place?”

“In high school,” I
answered.

“You really can’t fluently learn a
language unless you live in that country. You want to live in
France for a while?”

What an odd question, I thought. Why
would I want to live here while Jake was back in the
States?

“No. If I were to live anywhere else
for an extended time, I’d like to live back in Japan, maybe this
time in Tokyo. But, I don’t think I can live too far away from you
now so it’s a moot point.” Jake shook his head and laughed at me
again.

 

Today’s Lesson :
Legumes—Vegetables

 

The French made all their food
delicious but heavy. My stomach churned at the thought of eating
anymore 81 percent pure fat butter. I couldn’t intake so much fat
this morning. I participated but didn’t taste test. An espresso was
my breakfast instead.

Jake was ready to go when I got up to
his room. He wasn’t quite his casual self and seemed a bit on edge.
I thought about asking him what was wrong, but instead waited to
see what he had planned for the day. All I’d hoped was that we
weren’t fine dining today. A salad and Perrier for the rest of the
day suited me fine.

My body felt nauseous when I saw Jake
pick up a picnic basket full of food from the main kitchen. The
chef packed enough food to feed an army. We walked toward the
Tuileries Garden and found a peaceful spot surrounded by flowers. I
guess Jake was checking off another one of my bucket list—picnic in
the Tuileries Garden with someone I was madly in love with. Jake
definitely qualified. He laid out an unusually large blanket and
placed the basket in the middle. I followed his lead and sat on the
blanket and waited for him to break his silence. He didn’t say a
word the whole walk over to the garden.

Finally, I couldn’t stand the
silence.

“Jake.”

No answer.

“Did I do something wrong? You know I
don’t like it when you turn mute on me. I thought you promised not
to do this anymore.” I spoke cautiously.

I apparently woke up him up from
whatever he was thinking about because all I got was, “Huh? Did you
say something?”

“Jake! What is going on? You promised
not to go silent on me anymore. You haven’t said a word since I got
to your room this morning. Last time you did this, I didn’t see you
for six months.” I was a bit frustrated, but more worried than
anything else. I didn’t understand the sudden change in his
mood.

“I’m sorry, Love. I’m just trying to
figure out all this stuff that the chef packed. I don’t know which
is which.”

Sounded strange, but I accepted the
explanation.

“Jake, I’m sorry but I don’t really
want to eat any more French food. Can we just skip to
dessert?”

Whatever I said brought a frantic look
on Jake’s face. He began digging through the entire basket and
brought out six beautifully packaged small boxes about 1 1/2 x 1
1/2 x 2 inches in size.

“What’s in all these fun boxes?” I
inquired.

“The chef made petit fours and placed
them in here. They go sequentially. Here is the first one. Open
it.” He finally put a smile on his face when he handed me the first
box.

In the first box laid a petit four in
the likes of a Captain Crunch cereal box. I shook my head a bit
trying to find meaning in this dessert, but was a bit lost. Jake
saw my blank expression and began revealing his
intention.

“I guess you don’t remember how we
first met?” He sounded a bit disappointed.

“Oh! Of course. This was the cereal I
was reaching for when I bumped into you. Oh, this is so sweet. Do
all these boxes contain a memory?”

I took a bite of the dessert and then
gave Jake a bite.

“Yum!” we both said.

“It tastes just like Captain Crunch
cereal. How fun! OK, I want the next box.”

“Demanding,” Jake said, while reaching
over for the next box. He positioned himself in front of me and
handed me the next memory.

I opened this one to find a petit four
in the shape of a taco. This represented our first official date at
a Mexican restaurant. I took half a bite of the taco and put it
back in the box.

“Why are you leaving half the taco in
the box, and don’t I get a bite?”

“No. Don’t you remember? You had to
leave halfway through our dinner because you got called away by the
hospital. The story of our life!” I huffed, rolling my eyes. “This
one doesn’t deserve to be eaten beyond the halfway mark. I
should’ve known then you were a workaholic…next!”

Jake just stared at me so I added,
“Please?” along with a sweet smile.

The third box was just an ordinary
slice of thinly layered chocolate cake.

“No memory on this one?” I
inquired.

Then it dawned on me. “Oh, I get it.
This is an opera cake. This must symbolize the opera we saw in San
Francisco, right?”

“Ding, ding, ding.” He rang an
invisible bell.

“This is loads of fun!” I exclaimed,
while feeding both of us the cake.

I looked no different than a child
opening up presents on Christmas morning. Love and satisfaction
filled his gaze as I reveled in each gift.

The fourth box was an easy one to
figure out. The pastry chef cut the dessert to look like waves in
the blue ocean with little orange fish everywhere.

“This must be Hawaii. Too easy. Let’s
see what this one tastes like.” We polished off number
four.

The fifth petit four was an intricate
Eiffel Tower. It looked too good to eat so we saved it for later—on
to the last box.

I was bummed that this was the last
one. Jogging through our memories was so much fun.

“Thank you, Jake, for coming up with
such an elaborate trip down memory lane. And thank you for crossing
off another item on my bucket list. You are just too
wonderful.”

There didn’t seem to be enough
adjectives to describe the awe I felt for this man.

“OK, I’m ready for the last
one.”

Box number six, in my right hand, was
quite heavy, so I gathered up the other five into my left hand.
Using my hands as a scale, I measured one against the five. This
last one was definitely heavier than the other five
combined.

“Maybe a pound of butter to symbolize
the cooking classes I’ve been taking?” I guessed.

Jake cracked up, nervously.

As this was the last surprise, I
slowly opened the box. Jake was peering into my face as I saw
another box inside this box. My heart started racing, as I knew
that this was another jewelry box—like the kind a girl received
when a man got down on one knee, about to propose to the woman he
loved. I tried to tell myself that it could be a pair of earrings
just as easily as it could be a ring. Even if it were a ring, there
was no guarantee that it was an engagement ring.

Then it dawned on me. Oh. It was my
eternity band coming back to me. My heartbeat flat-lined
immediately with this revelation. Jake must have picked up the band
and was going to place it back on my finger. Bummer! I casually
opened the box not putting much thought into it, and to my surprise
I found Sandy’s ring in there.

I looked at Jake a bit puzzled. “Why
is your mom’s ring here? Where’s my eternity band?”

Jake took the ring out of the box and
declared, “Emily, I can’t imagine anything I would like more than
to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” Simple
as that, he proposed.

It took me a millisecond
to replay what he just said to me. It took me another millisecond
to answer, “
YES!

as I flung my arms around his neck. Jake hugged me back just as
fervently. He eventually tried to pry me off so he could place the
ring on my finger but I wouldn’t let go.

“Why’d you take so long?” I asked in a
petulant and whiny voice. “You know I’ve been waiting!”

“Have you been waiting? I hadn’t
noticed.” He began laughing. “I rather liked the disappointment on
your face each time you thought I might propose but didn’t. Your
anticipation put me on an emotional roller coaster every time.” His
laugh turned into a guffaw.

“I can’t believe you did that! How
mean are you? You knew I was waiting, but you kept it from me
purposely and poked fun at me in the meanwhile?” I pulled myself
away from him hoping this would serve as retaliation.

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