Under The Eiffel Tower, My Heart Met Yours

1. Under the Eiffel Tower, I Met Him for the First Time.

Saanvi’s Point of View

The cold Paris winter wind bit through my jacket as I stood in front of the apartment, checking the number on the door for the third time. My whole body was literally shivering; nothing in Delhi had ever prepared me for this kind of cold.

But no matter how freezing it was outside, inside my chest, it felt warm, glowing with hope.

I still couldn’t believe I was actually here in Paris.

The city of dreams. The city where the man I loved lived.

I had landed a few hours ago at Charles de Gaulle Airport, my first time in Europe, my first time out of India. Yet nothing scared me, because I knew I would soon meet the man who loved me.

Enrico.

My handsome French boyfriend.

The man I had crossed continents for.

After checking into the hotel, I rushed to the salon I had booked online. It wasn’t easy to find one open on Christmas Eve, but I managed because he loved seeing me without my spectacles. Because he loved my hair straight. Because he once said, “I love you no matter how you look, Jaanu, but I really like to see you in the way I first saw you. That reminds me of that beautiful day. ”

So I wanted to stand before him looking exactly like the day he first saw me.

Contact lenses on. My messy hair was neatly straightened and styled. Soft makeup to highlight whatever little beauty I had.

A few minutes earlier, I had sent him a text: Are you home? What are you doing?

After I got out of the salon, he replied: Yes, Jaanu. Home. Missing you like crazy.

I smiled like a fool, thinking he wouldn’t have to miss me for long. I am going to be in his arms in a few minutes.

He had no idea I was coming today. He didn’t even know I had found a job in Paris and moved here. This was my big surprise. I couldn’t even imagine his reaction when he saw me at his door. Would his blue eyes shine like stars? Would he hug me so tightly as he always said he wanted?

I lifted my hand and knocked softly.

The door opened with a gentle click.

And everything inside me froze.

It wasn’t the handsome blond man I wanted to see.

It was a beautiful woman, glowing… and very pregnant.

For a heartbeat, I thought I had knocked on the wrong door. But how could that be? I had checked the number many times. Enrico himself had sent me this address just days ago when I said I wanted to send some sweets for the New Year.

“Is… is this Enrico’s place?” I finally managed to ask, my eyes lingering on her big belly.

“Yes,” the woman replied with a bright smile. “Who are you?”

If this was truly his place… what was she doing here? Was she his sister? But he never told me about a sister.

Before I could say anything, a familiar voice called from inside.

“Who is it, honey?”

Honey.

Honey?

That single word stabbed me harder than any dagger.

Enrico, my French lover, appeared behind her, wearing an apron. When his eyes landed on me, they widened with shock. For a moment, I was sure neither of us breathed.

“You…?” he whispered.

The pregnant woman looked between us, confused.

“You know her, baby?”

Baby.

Did she just call him baby?

Her hand wrapped around Enrico’s strong arm, and her other hand rested gently on her belly.

“She’s… she’s one of the friends I met in India,” Enrico said quickly, his voice cracking. He tried to smile, but the panic couldn’t be erased from his face.

Just a friend met in India... But he had often said I am the whole world to him.

“Oh! Great!” the woman said happily, completely unaware of the turmoil inside me.

“He didn’t even tell me you were coming. But that’s fine. My baby’s papa doesn’t talk much. Once the baby is here, we’re going to scold him together.”

She laughed and playfully elbowed him.

My heart shattered into a million pieces.

She invited me inside warmly, but I couldn’t move. Not even a fingertip.

Twenty minutes ago, he told me he was missing me.

But he was here, cooking in an apron, looking handsome and comfortable, with his pregnant wife, fiancée, partner, whatever she was.

Clearly… she knew nothing about the relationship I had with her baby’s father.

My stomach twisted. I felt so sick I wanted to throw up.

But I forced a smile.

Because no matter how cruelly he had deceived me, making me believe he loved me more than anything, how could I yell at him in front of the woman carrying his child?

I couldn’t be that heartless to break the heart of a pregnant woman. My heart was already broken; she had nothing to do with that.

Just like me, she had been lied to.

“No… no, it’s fine,” I said, somehow keeping my voice steady. “Enrico didn’t know I was coming. I’m visiting a friend nearby and thought of dropping these off.”

I handed her the box of Indian sweets I had carried so carefully from Delhi, the sweets he said he missed so much.

“These are homemade,” I said quietly. “I hope you like them.”

“Oh! Thank you! You’re so sweet,” she said warmly. “At least come in for a coffee...”

“No… I should really go. My friend is waiting.”

Before they could stop me, I turned and walked away.

I had a tiny hope that he would come after me, tell me everything was a misunderstanding, that she was just a friend, that this was all a joke somehow.

But nothing like that happened.

No one came after me.

The reality didn’t change even a bit.

I didn’t know how long I walked or how many trains I switched, but eventually, I found myself standing before the Eiffel Tower.

Maybe because I had carved it into my heart, the magical place I wanted to visit with Enrico on this Christmas Eve. Perhaps that’s why my feet brought me here.

The world-famous icon of love stood before me, tall, glittering, breathtaking. Tonight, the tower was dressed in holiday magic.

Strings of fairy lights wrapped around the trees. Vendors sold hot chocolate, roasted chestnuts, and handmade ornaments.

It looked like the perfect Christmas Eve I had only ever seen on TV come alive.

Beautiful. Magical.

I dreamt about sharing my first kiss with Enrico right here, under the glowing lights at midnight. But instead, I stood here alone… heartbroken.

My knees buckled. My body finally gave up. I fell onto a stone bench.

The tears I had held back spilt down my face.

I fought with my parents when they opposed my move. I left a fantastic and comfortable job in Delhi.

For a timid, introverted girl like me, moving to a new country was a giant step... But I took it anyway.

Because I wanted to build a life with the man I thought loved me.

But he lied. When he created a beautiful world for me over the phone, he already had a beautiful world with another woman and their unborn baby.

Worst of all, I couldn’t even confront him, asking for reasons to deceive a simple girl like me.

I cried as I had never cried before. Not even on the day my mother told me to my face that she got accidentally pregnant with me and never wanted another child.

I didn’t care how ugly I looked crying in such a magical place. I knew no one here. And even if someone saw me, no one would care, everyone was busy enjoying Christmas Eve with their loved ones.

But then…

A warm hand touched my back.

“Mademoiselle… are you okay?” a gentle voice asked.

I lifted my head, vision blurry.

Crouching in front of me was a man.

Tall. Blonde. Beautiful blue eyes.

So very handsome.

But it wasn’t his looks that shook me. It was his eyes.

Soft. Kind. Filled with a quiet understanding of my pain.

“Do you need something?” he asked gently.

My eyes fluttered.

“I… I need to cry,” I whispered. I didn’t know why I said something like that to a stranger, maybe because he showed me a kindness most people never have.

The handsome stranger didn’t laugh. He simply sat beside me.

“Then cry,” he said softly. “I’m here in case you need a shoulder.”

And just like that…

I met him for the first time.