Debbie had been expecting the housekeeper, or the concierge, but when she saw Alex standing on the other side of the door, her fake smile disappeared.
What the hell is he doing her? she thought angrily. After that stunt he pulled?
Alex had rented out the entire Eiffel Tower for the two of them, and even hired a private chef and a maitre d' for a private date. His intention had been for them to talk about getting back together. Most girls would have found the gesture, and its enormity, to be the absolute peak of romantic gestures. For Debbie, that wasn't the case. She had fallen in love with Alex because of his driver, his compassion, and his determination. Not for his money.
Although that was a nice perk, she found herself thinking. She blinked hard, banishing the thought. That's beside the point. He had no right to do that to me!
Her anger started to boil over, and her vision began to blur as tears filled her eyes.
Oh great, she thought angrily, I'm about to cry. That doesn't make me look bad at all.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, wiping her tears away with one hand. "Can't you see I want to be alone?"
Alex hung his head sheepishly, then looked up at her.
"I kind of," he said awkwardly, "well, I don't know where else to go. And I wanted to see if you were okay."
Stop being so sweet, Debbie thought. Why does he always know the sweetest, most absolutely right thing to say?
Debbie gritted her teeth, wanting to push him away and tell him to leave her alone forever. Then, there was another part of her which wanted to grab him by the collar and kiss him. Even though his gesture of renting out the Eiffel Tower had been a little too much for Debbie to handle, a small part of her had appreciated the effort. She didn't know many guys who would have thought of that. Then again, she didn't know anybody at all who could even afford it.
"I'll let you in," she said, leaning against the door frame and holding up one finger as he moved to enter the room, "but! On the condition that you tell me just what the hell you were thinking when you rented out the entire damn Eiffel Tower!"
Alex took a few steps backward, looking confused. A lock of hair fell over his face, and Debbie resisted the urge to reach up and brush it back. That would have been a little too intimate for her liking.
"Well," Alex started, looking off to the side and crossing his arms, "I thought it would be a nice gesture. It's not every day that a guy rents out a European national landmark."
Debbie hung her head. "That's exactly the issue I'm having," she told him. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "Alex, I appreciate you for who you are, and I appreciate everything you've ever done for me. You were an amazing boyfriend, and right now, I'm so insanely confused." She pulled away from the door frame and ran her fingers through her hair ot of frustration. "I love you, but I want you to stay away from me. I want you to be my friend, but I'm touched whenever you pull some big gesture like that. Do you see the dilemma I'm currently facing?" She spread her hands wide to emphasize her distress.
Why do you have to look so darn cute all the time? She thought, becoming more frustrated with herself. She had set herself some very firm, and yet very clear, rules and boundaries which she was rapidly breaking. It was, unfortunately, something she had come to learn about herself. If she set a boundary, she would have trouble following it.
Maybe I was too firm with myself? She thought. Maybe I needed to be more relaxed, a little more lenient. By setting all those rules, maybe I was setting myself up for failure. Why didn't anybody try to warn me about setting too many rules?
But, it was too late. She had set the rules, and she had broken them. They had intended to spend the convention in separate rooms, and they were splitting a bed and a floor. They had intended to just spend the convention together, and instead they were spending time together as friends. Maybe it was her fault for allowing it that had gotten them into this mess?
Alex simply looked at her, unsure of what to say. The silence between the two of them dragged on. A door open somewhere down the hall, and they heard the ice machine working. They looked at each other in uncomfortable silence as whoever it was finished their business, and went back to their room. The door to the room opposing them opened. Debbie looked over, seeing the occupant looking in their direction.
She made eye contact with the occupant, a young man with brown eyes. His eye widened when he saw that she caught him looking, and the door slammed shut. She heard the sound of locks being slid into place and sighed heavily, feeling like the weight of the world had been placed on her shoulder. There was so much that she wanted to say to Alex, but she wasn't sure if she had the strength or willpower to say any of it. This was rapidly becoming the messiest breakup in the history of messy breakups.
Why aren't you saying anything? Debbie thought. And why did I insist on us trying to stay friends?
"Alex, what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"May I come in?" he asked.
Debbie stepped aside, allowing him entry. She closed the door but didn't turn to face him. He rested her forehead against the cool wood and tried to calm down her racing heart. Every time she looked at him, all she saw was the passionate, driven man she had fallen in love with. Her heart played games with her. A huge part of her wanted to rush into his arms and pretend the breakup never happened. The rest of her, the reasonable part of her, knew that it could be a huge mistake.
She had broken every single rule she had laid down for herself since the start of this trip.
It was a mistake, she told herself. After all that panic, it was a mistake.
She turned around to face Alex. "Why did you come here?" she asked.
Alex took a deep breath. "I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Doesn't your family own a mansion in every country?" Debbie asked, trying to hurt him, but the words came out half-hearted.
Alex nodded. "Good point," he said. "At any rate, the Paris house is a little too far from the convention. And, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to finish out this trip. On good terms." He gave her a pleading look which tugged at her heartstrings.
Debbie looked away from him, and she sighed. "Alex," she said. "Do you know why I'm upset?"
Alex shrugged. "I assume it's something to do with me trying to get back together and, as I mentioned, possibly misreading your signals?"
Debbie nodded. "I'm trying to be firm with myself," she said in a strained voice. "Alex, you're amazing. I almost do want us to get back together, but it's just not safe. We need the breather; we need to know who we are as individuals again."
Alex nodded, as if he understood. "I think I get it," he said. After a pause, he asked, "What happens now?"
Debbie hesitated, unsure how to answer the question. Alex took her silence for a response and looked away. He sat on the edge of the bed. The springs squeaked under his weight, and he sighed heavily. He looked up at Debbie, drawing his lips into a thin line.
"I just don't know what more I can do," Alex said, spreading his hands. "Maybe I totally misread all your cues. The hand holding at the Louvre, the way you've been looking at me this entire trip. With how close you came to me in the Champ de Mars this evening, I thought I had made the right call."
Debbie shook her head. "I haven't been sure of anything for a long time," she admitted. "But I'm scared that if I run back into your arms, everything is going to go to hell, and we're both going to get hurt. I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to handle that." She could feel fresh tears welling up in her eyes.
Alex looked at her for a long, pensive moment.
"Like I mentioned," Alex said, standing up, "the Paris house is too far from the convention. So, here's what I propose: I spend the night here, sleeping on the floor, then tomorrow I'll find a bed and breakfast or another hotel just to close out the trip. Sounds good?"
Debbie thought about it. She had grown accustomed to Alex's presence while she was sleeping, but it probably was for the best if he found somewhere else.
"That sounds good," she said.
They both got ready to call it a night. Alex changed in the bathroom, and Debbie changed in the closet. It was, once again, Debbie's turn to take the bed, and Alex took to the floor. They turned off the lights and laid in darkness for a long time, unable to sleep.
Debbie had her eyes closed and was practicing some deep breathing exercises when Alex disturbed her.
"Are you also awake?" he asked. She heard the blankets rustle as he moved.
Still with her eyes closed, she answered, "Yes."
"I don't think I can fall asleep," he said. "I have a lot of pent-up energy."
Debbie's eyes snapped open. "If you're asking for sex-"
"Whoa!" Alex said, interrupting her. "No, that's not what I meant!" He genuinely sounded apologetic. "I mean, I feel like I need a distraction."
Debbie knew exactly what he meant. Her brain was all abuzz with activity. She couldn't help but think of all the different worst-case and best-case scenarios as she tried to fall asleep.
Debbie rolled over onto her back and thought for a moment. She remembered seeing a list of activities in the hotel lobby. An idea struck her.
"Hey," Debbie said, shifting into a seated position. "There's a yoga class tomorrow morning. It looks like it could be fun, and a distraction from all of, well, this," she gestured to herself, and Alex, "do you think we could go together?"
Alex pursed his lips, thinking. "Sure," he said, shrugging "It sounds like it could be a fun activity for friends."
Debbie smiled, relieved that after everything, they could still be friends.