The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering through the city.
Paris felt endless—every street leading to something new, every turn revealing something beautiful. The further we walked, the more it felt like the city was unfolding just for us, like it had been waiting.
We walked past small boutiques, art galleries, and narrow alleyways filled with the sound of distant music. A violinist played somewhere nearby, the melody soft and lingering, weaving through the air like something out of a dream.
At some point, we found ourselves standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
I stopped without realizing it, taking in the majestic view before me.
The towering structure stretched into the sky, just as breathtaking as I remembered. Last time I was here, the sun was setting and the view was breathtaking. Golden light had wrapped around everything back then—warm, soft, unforgettable. Somehow… this moment felt even sharper. Clearer. Like I was seeing it for the first time.
"It's still as impressive," I murmured.
Harley stepped beside me. Close enough that I could feel his presence without looking at him. "You say that like you weren't here before."
"I was," I corrected, my eyes locked on the tower. "But it feels different now."
"How?"
I tilted my head slightly, studying the view. "Back then… I wasn't thinking about anything."
Harley glanced at me. "And now?"
I let out a small breath. "Now I think too much." About things I don't understand. About feelings I can't name. About him.
A faint smile touched his lips. "That's new."
I nudged him lightly. "Hey."
He chuckled softly. The sound was quiet, but it lingered—settling somewhere deeper than it should have.
We stood there for a while, watching as tourists gathered around, snapping photos and laughing.
I remembered doing the same thing. Dragging Harley around. Forcing him into pictures he didn't want to take. Back then, I never questioned whether he wanted to be there. I just assumed he would follow. And he always did.
"You hated this part," I said suddenly.
"I didn't hate it."
"You complained the entire time."
"That's not the same thing."
I laughed softly. The sound felt lighter this time. Being here alone with him felt natural, like something meant to be. Like we had slipped into a moment that didn't belong to anyone else.
"Come on," I said, grabbing his sleeve without thinking. "We're taking a picture."
Harley looked down at my hand for a brief second before meeting my eyes. His gaze lingered there—on my fingers curled lightly around him—before slowly lifting. "You haven't changed."
"Neither have you," I shot back.
He didn't argue. He never does when it comes to me.
We stood side by side as I held my phone out in front of us.
"Smile," I said.
"I am smiling."
"That's not a smile."
"This is my smile." He said before placing his hand on the small of my back. His touch was light—but steady. Like it belonged there. Like it always had.
I rolled my eyes but snapped the photo anyway. Too caught up in the moment to notice where his hand was.
When I looked at the screen, I paused. We looked… good together. Funny how I am now noticing that. Not just good. Right. Like the space between us had always been meant to close like this.
"Let me see," Harley said, grabbing my phone from out of my hand. I watched as he studied the photo before handing it back to me. His expression didn't change much—but his eyes lingered on the screen a second longer than necessary. "Send me a copy."
"Okay," I said before sending him the photo. I put the phone in my purse. "Let's go."
Harley didn't move right away. He placed his hands in his pocket and said, "Sophie."
I turned slightly. "What?"
He studied me for a moment. As if debating whether to speak or not. Like whatever he was about to say carried more weight than it should have. "You're doing that thing again."
My brows furrowed. "What thing?"
"Pulling away."
My chest tightened. I turned my full attention towards him. "I'm not—"
"You are." His voice wasn't harsh. Just certain. Like he knew me better than I knew myself.
I looked away. Because he wasn't wrong. Sometimes I find it a bit overwhelming when it's just the two of us, but at the same time, I enjoy every moment of it. Too much, maybe. Enough to make me nervous.
"I'm just… thinking," I said quietly.
Harley stepped a little closer. Close enough that the space between us felt intentional. My face burned when he leaned in and asked, "About what?"
I hesitated. Because the truth was too complicated. Too dangerous.
"Nothing important," I replied, staring at the pavement.
Silence lingered between us. Not empty—but full of things neither of us said.
A couple walked past us, laughing as they held hands, completely lost in their own world.
My eyes followed them for a second longer than they should have, locked onto their intertwined hands. The way their fingers fit together so naturally. So easily.
When I looked away, I caught Harley looking at me with an unreadable expression. "What?"
"Do you want to?" He asked.
I blinked. "Want to what?"
Harley extended his right hand towards me. "Hold hands." His hand stayed there—open, steady, patient. Not forcing. Just waiting.
My heart skipped a beat. Part of me wanted to hold his hand, and another part of me was scared to. I released a sigh. Because saying yes felt like crossing a line I couldn't come back from.
"I am okay."
I caught a glimpse of disappointment flickering in his eyes. His hand dropped to his side, and we continued walking side by side. The space between us felt slightly wider now. Noticeably so.
"Do you remember what you said the last time we were here?" Harley asked suddenly.
I frowned slightly. "No."
"You said you wanted to come back one day."
My heart skipped. I thought he wasn't paying attention when I was going on and on about coming back here. I thought it had been one of those things he would forget.
"I did?"
He nodded. "Yeah." Like it had mattered more than I realized.
I let out a small breath. "I guess I got my wish."
Harley's gaze softened slightly. "Yeah."
"But things aren't the same," I added quietly. The words slipped out before I could stop them. Before I could pretend everything felt normal.
He didn't respond right away.
When I finally looked at him, his expression had changed. It was subtle. But enough for me to notice. Like something had shifted beneath the surface.
"Do you want them to be?" he asked.
The question hit harder than I expected. I opened my mouth—then closed it again. Because I didn't know how to answer that.
Did I?
I looked down, my fingers tightening slightly around my purse strap. Because whatever the answer was… it would change everything.
"I don't know," I admitted. And that was the most honest thing I had said all day.
The wind picked up slightly, brushing my hair across my face.
Before I could move, Harley reached out and tucked a strand behind my ear. His fingers brushed lightly against my skin—warm, careful, lingering just enough to make my breath catch.
My breath caught.
His hand lingered for a second longer than it should have. Like he didn't want to pull away. Like he was forcing himself to.
Our eyes met. And for a moment, everything stilled.
The world around us faded into the background. For a moment—it felt like nothing had changed.
Like we were still those two people from years ago. Like there had never been distance. Never been silence. Never been anything complicated between us.
But then—reality settled back in. And just like that, the moment broke. I stepped back.
"Where to next?" I asked, my voice quieter than before. Almost like I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't.
Harley watched me for a second longer before answering. "There's one more place I want to take you."
I nodded.
And as we walked away from the Eiffel Tower, I couldn't shake the feeling that this trip was slowly changing something between us.
Something I wasn't ready to face. Something that had already begun… whether I wanted it to or not.