Paris Woven With Dreams

apartment, a fifth-floor haven Olivier's father had gifted to the couple. In the charming neighbourhood, chic cafés buzzed with laughter, their red awnings flutter

riane ran her fingers over a silk scarf on the counter, its gold wax print a piece of Abidjan she'd brought along. She tied it around her neck, the sw

e bedroom, his tailored blazer accentuating his sharp jawline. His eyes raked over her

ftly, but his words stung. She'd paired it with a cream blouse and fitted trousers, hopi

it." He crossed the room, his tone softening as he kissed her forehead. "I

le at a Parisian finance firm demanding perfection. She'd seen the way he gazed at her with a p

is, sketching designs inspired by the city's elegance: a gown with th

he thought of exploring the city more to understand its fashion life, observing the daily looks

Paris fashion scene, a sense of its pulse before

scarf replaced with a simple gold chain. She arrived at a sleek rest

ll sharp suits and sharper smiles. They greeted her with handshakes as she joined them, but

r hissed as she sat, his voice low but veno

hispered, her cheeks

e table. The pressure sent a jolt through her, but he released

r heart racing. He's stressed, she told herself, cli

l traced a dress with wax-print accents, a tribute to her roots. She longed for Abidjan's warmth, the zou

ng up the screen. Ariane answered the v

nths in Paris and you already blending in, Paris looks good on you, show me around!"

faded. "You look..

ucking a curl behind her ear. "Ju

ere glowing at the wedding. Now you look like you're carrying t

everything: Olivier's coldness, the way he'd

just busy with work," she said,

e, not shrink." She paused, then added, "Maman's asking about you too. She's proud, but worried cos

ness. She curled up on the sofa, her sketchbook restin

to cook something familiar, jollof rice, the way Awa had taught her. The scent of tom

r returned, his

s tie. "We're not in a market stall, Ariane

n her hand. "I thought you'd like it,

hone from his pocket as it buzzed. Ariane glimpsed the screen, a message from someone named

e. "I have a big week ahead," he said, his tone icy. "You're not going anywh

loring Paris, building her career, living their fairy tale. But as Olivier's shadow loomed, th