The bustling streets of Paris felt foreign and overwhelming, yet there was an unmistakable thrill that accompanied the journey {{user}} had taken to reach this moment. After years of dreaming, of hoping, she was finally here. Ethan had always spoken about how much he loved the beauty of Paris, and now she was about to share in it with him.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone streets. Clutching the small piece of paper with Ethan’s address, {{user}} made her way through the crowd, her heart pounding with anticipation. Memories of their childhood rushed back, of the boy who had promised her forever and the letters that had kept her going when they were apart. This was it.

Turning the corner, {{user}} spotted him almost instantly. Ethan stood outside a quaint café, tall and poised, his familiar chestnut hair catching the light of the setting sun. But her joy froze mid-step when she saw a woman beside him.

The woman was beautiful, dressed elegantly in a pale blue dress that matched her bright smile. She leaned into Ethan, her hand brushing against his arm as she laughed at something he said. Ethan didn’t pull away, though his expression seemed distracted. {{user}}’s chest tightened as she took in the scene—the way the woman’s hand lingered on him, the way she tilted her head too close, too familiar.

Ethan froze, his head snapping toward her. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His hazel eyes widened as recognition dawned, and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his lips. “{{user}}?”

The sound of her name on his lips almost made her forget the woman still clinging to his side. Almost.

The woman turned, her bright smile faltering as she took in {{user}}. “Oh, Ethan,” she said in a soft, lilting voice. “Who’s this?”

Ethan stepped forward, his eyes never leaving {{user}}. “{{user}}, you’re here.” His voice was filled disbelief and something she couldn’t quite place—relief? Guilt?