I frowned. “I meant that I did what I had to do…because I couldn’t imagine doing anything less for you.”

She took in a deep breath and tilted her head, watching me. “You know…I don’t believe in former lives but if I did, I must have done something goddamn amazing in the last one to deserve you.”

“Maybe we both did something amazing.”

We shared a long look and time seemed to slow, stretch. There are moments that occur, that draw our memories, that seem heavier, denser than the string of moments before and after them. Years later, in your mind, you are drawn to them by an offhand comment, a flash of color, a scent, a texture, a taste, a feeling. But seldom did you realize the importance at the time that you were experiencing them, the memory’s equivalent of a bauble or souvenir.

This long string of seconds where we said nothing but looked into each other’s eyes, seeing pure emotion there but refusing to look away. I knew it right when it happened. This was one of the weighted moments, one of these memories I’d savor for years to come.

Finally she looked away, a smile dancing on her lips. “You haven’t finished your wine for the course. You’re supposed to drink it and tell me how it is.”

This was my third glass. I tipped it back and was finally starting to feel a bit of a buzz. Emilia watched me closely and then pushed her glass toward me. “Here’s some more. Don’t let it go to waste…”

I threw her a questioning look and ignored the glass. The waiter cleared the glasses and plates in preparation for our next course. And with it, of course, came another glass of wine. Since this was the meat course, it was red. And I did like a good glass of red wine.

“How is it?” Emilia asked, taking an inordinate interest in the wine.

I frowned. “It’s good.”

“Sorry,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. “I haven’t had any wine in a long time. Since before…” And she cut herself off, shaking her head.

A dark feeling came over me. There was before and there was after. And it sat like an impassable valley in between our past and our future. Everything in me felt heavy with that realization. At times I wondered if we’d ever be able to overcome this divide.

With a depressing sigh, I downed the rest of the red wine with one gulp, welcoming the warmth washing over me.

After dinner, we went up to the top level, crowding onto the high platform with everyone else. I had warned Emilia that even on the warmest days in summer, it got windy and cold up here so she had brought a jacket. The monuments of Paris spread out around us, lit up like jewels in a sea of black velvet. This city was unbelievably beautiful. And so was the woman beside me.

She watched everything with wide eyes, vivid excitement lighting up her features. The lacy wrap around her head was an elegant touch as the loose ends fluttered in the breeze. Soon she noticed the scattered padlocks clamped onto the cage-like safety grid over our heads.

“Oh, wow! Look at these. Love locks. I wish we’d thought of that.”

I smiled, suddenly feeling very smug. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the heavy golden lock that I’d been carrying in my pocket all evening. “Fortunately you brought the boy genius with you.”

Her grin widened. “Yeah, fortunately I did!”

I handed her the lock, complete with key, and a permanent marker. “Here. Write something on it, and I’ll lock it as high as I can get it.”

Emilia grabbed the pen and began writing, then flipped it over and continued to write. “You aren’t writing a manifesto on there, are you?”

She smirked. “No. Well, maybe just a short love manifesto.”

She opened the lock, pulled out the key and handed it to me. I held it up to the light to read it: E.K.S. + A.D. I turned it over to read the back: = Nat 20. She’d used the gamer term from Dungeons and Dragons, which meant “instant, automatic success” by rolling a twenty on a twenty-sided die.

I laughed. “Now this is a manifesto I can agree with.”

I jumped up and grabbed the cage above my head, pulling myself up and hanging with one arm while I used my other hand to loop the lock around the cage overhead and clamp the padlock closed. Then I dropped back to the platform, where Emilia promptly wrapped her arms around me and pressed her head against my chest. “That was awesome. Thank you.” She held up the key and said, “And this is getting dropped into the Seine ASAP.”

“Mmm. We still haven’t hit your bucket list item yet.”

“Yeah?”

“I believe it was to kiss someone on top of the Eiffel Tower.”