Paris Woven With Dreams
the Marais apartment's windows, but
s she poured tea, the shards of the broken glas
ftly against the cup, a fragi
ering a silent promise to her
's wild eyes, his roar, the gl
k of irritation. "You didn't clean this up?" he
u do all da
ping back. Her voice was small, her bod
od at" he said, his voice low but venomous. He stepped closer, looming over her. "I'm under e
h instinctively. "Please, Olivier, let's not fight,"
ared. "You think I need your reminders? You're the one who's a m
slamming into the counter before
sharp and searing, radi
, terror flooding her as she felt
breaking, but he was already storming
e, curled on the cold floor, her b
crept at the edges of her vision as she
p of a monitor a hollow rhythm. A doctor's voice echoed in h
rashed over her, a huge wa
oaking the pillow, her bangl
asmine's laughter, wishing her fam
are, and her fairy
med," she said softly. "He hasn't come." Ariane's chest tightened,
e, it was a prison, and
t stay, not
tiny clothes she'd never fold, her dreams of m
of thoughts, each one clawing for dominance. Grief and anger wrestled w
rrupted only by the beeping of machines and th
s Ariane, she's in the hospital," she said, her voice breaking. "She was pregnant and h
"My daughter," she whispered, her voice thick with pain. She s
getting her a place of her own; my chil
her, I feel helpless, li
hing she needs, every
r eyes. "Yes, Maman. She ne
n Yasmine's shoulde
g her home
ne stared at the ceiling,
r window felt like a cruel mo
cing its patterns, whisperin
e gone, and her marriage
en. Ariane hesitated, her hand shaking as she answered. "Yasmine... oh, Ma
s voice cracked, tears evid
g you an apartment of your
tever steps you want to ta
ame through,
trong and always kn
n when you're out of the hospital, we
y Ariane, w
, her voice trembling a
er like a warm embrace, a stark co
what would leaving Olivier mean? Could she re
partment, my fashion career, a chance to escape
om, Olivier's absence a gaping wound, she