feistyfiona's: Love, Flicker, Burn: Entry 3

Tiide Olufola-Carson

Paris

I loitered around the Galleries Lafayette, it was a rainy wet day in Paris and it was only right that I shopped. The initial plan was to feast on croissants, cheese and hot chocolate for breakfast in one of those tiny cafés near the Seine and have some me-time, while observing morning life from behind my wayfarers and waiting for Ugo’s call. Instead, I woke up about noon. It took me a while to figure out where I was too. O yeah, Paris, unplanned and stupidly impulsive trip to see the Ex! This could only end badly. I looked around my rented Airbnb-sourced room. It was small with suspicious wall art. It really was a nice apartment though and so was my host, happy French girl, Camile, who was clearly an abstract art enthusiast.

I got ready to leave the apartment and then the rain started suddenly, like a sign. As it rained, I thought about Lanre and the boat. Shaking off the memory, I sent Ugo a weather update and told him to call me when he got into town. He replied in less than sixty seconds. Speed- texting just like the old times, I smiled knowingly. I was amazed at how easily we had fallen back into talking and planning. I had called him on my third day in Barcelona. We talked for about two hours, easing effortlessly into light hearted chatter, filling each other in on all the things that had happened in the last one year. I told him about my new job, that Dara is engaged to that guy he didn't like, and that I was thinking about starting my own business. I skipped Lanre. He told me he rode a bicycle to school complete with a baguette in his basket and a copy of the daily paper and the Financial Times. I found that funny, a little too funny. My laugh was high pitched and unusually teasing. What was I doing?

My next conversation with him was yesterday after I had landed. Of course, I couldn’t call him before because it would seem like he was the reason for my trip though HE WAS!

I landed at Charles de gaulle at noon, called him at about 4PM while I was out for a walk. It was brief and we agreed he would come in from Fontainebleau the next day and meet up with me wherever I was. I was, after all here on my own trip with my own plans not because of a man who broke up with me last year for the most ridiculous reason.

I found an umbrella in the apartment and left the house, concluding on shopping for the day. Galleries Lafayette, it would have to be. Away from the rain. He’d meet me there and we would find something to eat nearby.

I impatiently checked my phone for a message or missed call from him as I came out of the metro at Chaussee d’Antin. He was probably still on the train from Fontainebleau. I made my way to the shopping centre, skipping puddles and measuring my steps over the cobble stone.

I had been walking around for almost thirty minutes in the Galleries scarcely interested in anything. I had only one shopping bag which was completely out of character, clearly I was nervous about meeting with Ugo. He was just my friend now, there was no reason to be nervous.

I wandered into a lingerie shop and smiled back at the attendant who had greeted me with a tight smile. I looked around, feigning disinterest.

'What am I doing in here?' I muttered to myself. My heart throbbed a little harder. ‘I deserved lingerie, every woman did!’, I thought defiantly.

A picture of Ugo and I in my rented room flashed in my head. Like that would ever happen, I rolled my eyes. I still resented him and wanted him to know all he left behind was doing more than OK. We would have lunch and he will be on his train back home.

I picked up a black silk baby doll that could only result in the need to show a member of the opposite sex. That couldn't even happen. I had decided never again to have sex, after Ugo. Ever again. Well, maybe when I eventually said ‘Yes’ to someone and got married. I put down the baby doll. Why was I in here? I should leave and buy a handbag instead, or perfume, eye-shadow, anything else!

Like in a trance, I walked over to another silky, lacy thing. Even if I wasn't planning anything raunchy, I deserved underwear. I ran my hand along a frilly pair of boy-shorts. The French sure did know their lingerie. Every woman who came to Paris bought lingerie.‎ Right? I distanced myself from the corsets and bustiers. I'd just buy something casual. I picked out a fuschia and black lace bandeau with a matching Brazilian cut brief. A feeling gnawed at me. The feeling that Ugo was going to see this purchase and No........ not in the bag.

‎I stomped the thought out, my bridesmaid dress for Dara's wedding would require a bandeau. I also would need a bustier for the wedding. No. No bustier, I had so many back home, it used to be Ugo's thing. I made my legs walk to the cashier desk. I smiled at the cashier, who tried to lure me into getting a loyalty card and reward me ten percent off my purchase. 'That wouldn’t be necessary, merci', I said, handing her my card. My phone began to vibrate. Ugo.