MADELINE’S POV
France smelled different the moment the plane doors opened.
Not just air—everything. Cold stone, metal rails, perfume, coffee, something faintly sweet and foreign that settled into my lungs like a promise and a warning at the same time.
My feet touched the airport floor and for a split second, it didn’t feel real. Like I had stepped into a picture instead of a place.
Jeremy stood beside me, his carry-on dragging slightly behind him as he adjusted his jacket. He looked the grounding, solid—but somehow… farther away. Like we were already splitting into different versions of ourselves. Not already though.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing sideways at me as the crowd swallowed us.
“I think so,” I said. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “Just… exhausted.”
“That flight wa
