Once inside my hotel room, I kicked off my shoes and stretched my legs. Just as I was debating whether or not to take another bubble bath – the excuse being that God knows when I’d be able to take another one, since I lived in a dorm with communal showers – I heard a knock on the door.

I steeled myself. What if it was him? What would I do?

“Who is it?” I called out.

“The concierge, mademoiselle.”

I went and opened the door. The concierge stood holding a vase full of tulips. “These arrived for you while you were out. I took the liberty of putting them in water.”

I thanked him and tipped him and then shut the door again. I placed the vase on the table next to the other vase full of the now withering red roses Sebastian had given me earlier that week.

I sat staring at the tulips. They were red and yellow, just like the ones I’d admired at Versailles. The flowers bore no card. They didn’t need one. I knew who they were from.

~

At two o’clock in the afternoon the next day, I boarded my return flight.