I did not sleep that night. I was still awake when dawn stretched her light fingers through Sebastian’s window.

At 6 AM, Sebastian got up and kissed me on the forehead before heading to the bathroom. I lay in bed listening to him sing some French pop song in the shower. I listened, too, to the hum of his electric razor. Then I lay in bed watching as he came back into the room and put on his clothes. I said nothing.

“Today is Friday,” he said, “So the museums will close a little later. I should be back by 8:30 PM. Please, make yourself at home. My house is yours.”

He kissed me on the mouth, his tongue darting in like a fish. I kissed him back, but my heart wasn’t in it.

Sebastian pulled back and stared at me. “Are you all right, ma petite chou?”

I willed away the tears. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking that I have so little time left here in Paris, with you.”

He hugged me close. “I’ll make these last days worthwhile, my darling. Don’t cry.”

Then he left and I was alone with my thoughts again.