Beneath the Parisian sky

The city had not changed much. Paris was still the same a breathtaking blend of history and modernity, where cobbled streets whispered secrets of the past, and towering skyscrapers loomed with quiet authority. Eva Carter had walked these streets before, many years ago, when she had been a different person. She had left Paris behind, vowing never to return, but fate had other plans.

She stood at the Charles de Gaulle Airport, her suitcase by her side, inhaling deeply. The air smelled the same-hints of roasted chestnuts, freshly baked baguettes, and the ever-present perfume of the Seine. It should have been comforting, yet her pulse quickened. Paris was not just a city for her; it was a memory, a love lost, a story left unfinished.

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her emails. Her client, La Vie en Images, had arranged everything. As a travel photographer, she was used to hopping from one city to another, capturing fleeting moments and weaving them into visual poetry. This assignment, however, was different. It was personal.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. Eva Carter. Still lost in your own world?

The deep, smooth voice sent a jolt down her spine. She turned, heart hammering, to face him.

Nathaniel "Nate" Leclair stood before her, looking every bit as devastating as she remembered. He had always been a striking man-tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly elegant in his tailored suit. His dark hair was neatly styled, and those piercing green eyes, the ones that had once made her weak, now held a mix of curiosity and something unreadable.

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe. It had been years. Ten long years. And yet, the sight of him stirred something deep inside her.

"Nate," she finally managed. "What are you doing here?"

His lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in his smile. "I could ask you the same thing."

She clenched her fingers around the handle of her suitcase. "I'm here for work."

"Work?" He raised a brow. "In Paris? How... convenient."

There it was-the sharp edge in his tone. Nate had always been perceptive. He knew this city was not just another stop on her itinerary. He knew there was more to her presence here.

Eva squared her shoulders, refusing to let him see the effect he still had on her. "Yes. I'm covering a project for La Vie en Images."

"Interesting," he mused, studying her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "I didn't take you for the sentimental type."

She scoffed. "You think I came back for nostalgia? Please."

Nate's gaze darkened. "Didn't you?"

Eva's stomach tightened. She had known she would run into him eventually-Paris wasn't small-but she hadn't expected it to be this soon. And she certainly wasn't prepared for the emotions that came rushing back.

She inhaled sharply and forced a smile. "I don't have time for this, Nate. I have a meeting to get to."

He stepped aside, but as she moved past him, he spoke again. "You're staying at the Saint Germain Hotel, right?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. How did he-

He smirked. "Still predictable, Eva."

She turned to glare at him. "Spying on me already?"

His expression was unreadable. "I don't have to. I know you."

Her chest tightened, and she hated that he was right. He had always known her in ways that no one else had. But that was a long time ago.

"Goodbye, Nate."

She walked away, ignoring the way her heart pounded against her ribs.

---

That evening, Eva stood on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the city come alive with golden lights. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, a beacon of romance and memories she wished she could forget.

Her phone buzzed.

Amina: Tell me you didn't see him already.

Eva sighed, typing back.

Eva: I did. At the airport.

Amina: And?

Eva: And nothing. We talked. It was brief.

Amina: Did he look good?

Eva hesitated, then sighed.

Eva: Unfortunately, yes.

Amina sent a string of laughing emojis.

Amina: Are you okay?

Was she? Seeing Nate had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. But she couldn't let that distract her.

Eva: I'll be fine. I have work to do.

Amina: If you need to talk, I'm here.

Eva smiled softly.

Eva: Thanks.

She put her phone down and leaned against the railing. She had promised herself she wouldn't let the past consume her. But as the night stretched on, she couldn't shake the feeling that Paris had other plans.

---

The next morning, Eva arrived at the art gallery where she was set to meet her client. The building was an architectural masterpiece-grand, sophisticated, and drenched in history. She adjusted her camera bag and stepped inside.

She had barely taken in the exquisite paintings when a familiar voice stopped her cold.

"Eva."

She turned slowly, and her heart sank.

Nate. Again.

This time, he wasn't alone. Beside him stood a man she recognized instantly-Antoine Laurent, a renowned art curator and someone she had met years ago during her first time in Paris.

"Eva Carter," Antoine greeted warmly, stepping forward. "It's been a long time."

She forced a smile. "It has. You look well."

"And you look... surprised." His gaze flickered between her and Nate. "Do you two know each other?"

Nate's lips curved slightly. "You could say that."

Eva's fingers curled into a fist. "We've met."

Antoine chuckled. "Well, that makes things easier. You'll be working closely together."

Eva blinked. "Excuse me?"

Nate's smirk deepened. "Didn't your client inform you?"

Antoine looked amused. "I assumed she knew."

Eva crossed her arms. "Knew what?"

"That Nate is the one funding this project," Antoine explained. "He's the reason we're able to feature this exhibition."

Eva felt the blood drain from her face.

Nate. Of course.

The city was playing its cruel tricks again.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain calm. "I see."

Antoine, oblivious to the tension, beamed. "This is perfect. You two can catch up while working together."

Eva shot Nate a glare, but he only smiled, the devilish glint in his eyes infuriatingly familiar.

This was going to be a disaster.

---

Later that evening, Eva sat in a café, drowning her frustration in a cup of espresso. She needed to figure out how to handle this.

She had spent years avoiding Nate, and now she was stuck working with him. Paris, it seemed, was not ready to let them go their separate ways.

A shadow fell over her table.

"Mind if I join you?"

She looked up to see Antoine. He gave her a charming smile.

"Go ahead," she muttered.

He sat down, studying her. "You didn't know Nate was involved, did you?"

Eva sighed. "No. And I'm not thrilled about it."

Antoine leaned back. "You two have history."

"That's one way to put it."

He tilted his head. "He doesn't talk about you, you know."

She frowned. "What?"

Antoine shrugged. "Over the years, I've heard many stories about Nate Leclair. Business deals, women, power plays. But never once has he mentioned you."

Eva's stomach twisted.

Antoine smirked. "Which makes me think that whatever happened between you two... still matters."

Eva exhaled slowly. She wasn't sure if that was comforting or terrifying.

Because deep down, she knew-Paris wasn't just a backdrop to their story.

It was the beginning of something unfinished.

And maybe, just maybe, it was about to start all over again.