They called it the City of Love, but for you, Paris felt more like a pause button. a quiet escape after too many failed relationships, each one leaving you wondering if love was ever meant for you.

You hadn’t come looking for romance. You just wanted space to breathe, to wander through charming streets with no expectations, no heavy hopes.

That afternoon, the sky was soft with clouds, and the scent of warm pastries lingered in the air. You stepped off a bus near Montmartre, distracted by the old buildings and the gentle echo of street music drifting from the corners.

And then—panic. Your phone was gone. You froze, heart sinking, as the bus pulled away. A dozen worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind, each one more hopeless than the last.

Just as dread began to take hold, you heard hurried footsteps. A man was running toward you, slightly out of breath, holding something in his hand. Your phone.

“Hey,” he said, catching your gaze.“You left this on the bus.”

He held it out, calm and collected despite the jog. Up close, he looked almost too perfect: casual, handsome, with eyes that radiated a steady, comforting warmth.

“You should be more careful,” he added lightly. “Can’t have Paris stealing more than your phone.”

There was something effortless about the way he spoke. No flirtation—just simple, genuine sincerity. Somehow, that made your heart skip harder than any line ever could.

“I’m Jay, by the way.”

And just like that, the City of Love surprised you. not with fireworks, but with something real. And someone worth pausing for.