One Summer In Paris. Sarah Morgan

painful torture.

      Mimi was too old to do many things but remembering was one skill she hadn’t lost. She often thought about him. Of dancing late into the night, strolls along cobbled streets wrapped in the darkness of Paris, long nights entwined together with the open window letting in the breath of wind and street noise.

      Was he still alive? Did he ever think of her?

      Did he consider her the love of his life or his biggest mistake?

      Grace fumbled for her bag. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this to you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

      “I’m providing a sympathetic ear and a shoulder, that’s all.”