A Love Letter to Paris by Rebecca Raisin EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Rebecca Raisin
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.2 MB
- Price: Free
NOW – JULY
My phone beeps with a text from my friend Émilienne that reads:
I’ve been keeping a secret – I’m finally, madly, head over heels
in love thanks to a little-known matchmaking website called
Paris Cupid. Why don’t you join? If anyone deserves love, it’s
you!
What Émilienne doesn’t know is that I have a secret too.
I am Paris Cupid.
Six months ago
On a cold February day, Émilienne cups her head and cries. I give her
shoulder a useless pat as we sit side by side at Café des Capucines in the 9th
arrondissement. What can anyone really do for a heartbroken friend, except
be there and listen? I’ve just returned from a holiday to London visiting my
parents who moved back to the UK recently, so this is the first chance I’ve
had to comfort Émilienne in person.
Dad is British and Maman is French. I’ve spent most of my life
crisscrossing the English Channel because they could never make up their
mind where they wanted to live before I settled for good in Paris in my
early twenties. Truth be told, I went home to lick my wounds after a terrible
break up too, but I’m at the stage I want to forget it, not rehash it. Besides,
I’m here for Em today, not for me.
Émilienne’s shoulders slump as she says, ‘He told me I’m too intense.
That my needs are too great – all I asked was if he wanted company at the
gym, and suddenly I’m needy? Nothing ever goes the distance.’ It’s been a
few weeks since he broke it off and Émilienne is still mourning the
relationship. ‘Is it me? Am I the problem?’
‘Non, of course it’s not you.’
‘I’m done with men.’
‘He wasn’t the one for you, Em.’ Time and again this comes up for my
friend. If she’s not being called needy, she’s being called aloof, detached –
it doesn’t make sense.
The waiter arrives with our café crèmes, takes one look at Émilienne,
and flees as if her sadness might be contagious. I encourage Émilienne to
take a sip of her coffee as the waiter returns with a plate of colourful
macarons. ‘Excusez moi?’ he says. ‘These are for you.’
Émilienne gazes at him, her eyes glassy with tears. ‘But we didn’t
order…’
‘Gratuit.’ He dashes away as quickly as he came. Ah, Paris, the city
where a broken heart is recognised and remedied by a hit of sugar.
Temporarily remedied, at least.
‘See?’ I say. ‘There’s plenty of nice men around. Every day, I read the
most heartfelt, hard-won love stories in the letters I sell at the market. Sure,
true love can be elusive, but it’s out there, I promise you. You can’t give
up.’
Émilienne gives me a weary smile. ‘Your love letters are from another
era, Lilou. While they’re beautiful mementos of yesteryear, life isn’t like
that these days. Romances like those are a thing of the past.’ She lets out a
frustrated sigh.
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