CAFE LES DEUX MAGOTS, PARIS - MORNING
The historic cafe was still quiet. Elara sat in the same corner where she and Kael first met after her arrival in Paris. Her hands circled a cup of café au lait that had gone cold, her eyes fixed on the entrance.
Kael arrived right on time, with a small, forced smile. He ordered an espresso before sitting down.
"You look tired," he said.
"You too,"Elara replied.
They sat in familiar silence. Paris outside was beginning to wake up, but inside that cafe, time felt still.
"David is waiting at the hotel with Alisha," Elara began, her voice trembling. "I... I've decided."
Kael closed his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself for the blow he knew was coming. "You're going home with him."
Elara nodded, tears welling up. "I have to, Kael. For Alisha. She... she needs both her parents. She needs stability. A family."
"And what do you need, El?" asked Kael, his eyes filled with pain. "For these past two weeks, I saw you living. Not just surviving, but truly living. Laughing. Shining."
"I know." Elara took a deep breath. "And that's what makes this decision even more painful. Because with you, Kael, I found a part of myself that had been lost for so long. The part that's happy unconditionally, not burdened by scandal and betrayal."
A BELATED CONFESSION
Elara reached for Kael's hand across the table. "I have to be honest with you. During this time in Paris... I fell in love with you again. Or maybe, my love for you never really left. It was just asleep."
Kael held his breath, his eyes glistening.
"When you kissed me under the fireworks," Elara continued, her voice trembling, "that wasn't just nostalgia. It was real. And when we spent days together, carrying Alisha, laughing together... I imagined a different life. A simpler life. With you."
"Then why not choose that life?" Kael hissed, the pain evident.
"Because life isn't just about what we want, Kael. Sometimes it's about what calls to us. And I'm called to be a mother to Alisha. And as her mother... I have to give her the chance to have a whole family."
She paused, gathering courage. "David has changed. He fought. He proved his seriousness. And even though my wounds aren't healed... I believe we can heal together. But more importantly, Alisha deserves that chance."
A BITTER RELEASE
Kael slowly withdrew his hand. "So I'm just... an interlude? A beautiful distraction in your life's drama?"
"No!" Elara exclaimed, but then looked down. "Maybe. Or maybe you're a love that came at the wrong time. Back then, when we were young, the timing wasn't right. Now... the timing still isn't right."
Kael laughed bitterly. "Our story has always been about wrong timing, hasn't it?"
They fell silent again, each lost in their own sorrow.
"Will you be happy with him?" Kael finally asked.
"I'll try.For Alisha. And... maybe for myself someday too."
"And for me?"
Elara looked at him,tears flowing freely. "I hope you find someone who can give you their whole heart. Not half-heartedly like I did."
THE JOURNEY TOWARDS GOODBYE
They paid the bill and walked out aimlessly, their feet instinctively leading them to Pont Neuf. The morning wind blew through Elara's hair, and tears she thought had dried once again wet her cheeks.
"You know," Kael said, gazing at the Seine River, "in all my paintings over the past ten years, there's always been an element of you. The color of your eyes in the sky. Your silhouette in a crowd. I thought maybe... by having you for a little while here in Paris, I could finally paint you completely. And let you go."
Elara looked at Kael's face—so familiar, the face that was once her first home for love, now a symbol of everything she had to leave behind.
"There's one thing I haven't said," Elara whispered, stepping closer.
Kael looked at her, holding his breath.
"During my time in Paris," Elara continued, her voice trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind, "I didn't just fall in love with you again. I found the happiest version of myself with you. The version that's free, light, doesn't have to be a businessman's wife or a scandal victim. Just Elara."
Her hand rose, touching Kael's cheek. "And for that Elara... you were home."
Kael closed his eyes, holding back a sob. "Don't. Don't make this harder."
"But it's true," Elara whispered, her fingers tracing Kael's jawline. "And because it's true, I have to say goodbye properly."
THE FAREWELL KISS
She slowly drew Kael's face closer, giving him every chance to refuse. But Kael didn't move. His eyes opened, looking at Elara with his entire wounded soul.
Their lips met.
It wasn't a passionate kiss like under the fireworks. It wasn't a nostalgic kiss like their first one on the streets of Montmartre. This was a farewell kiss—soft, bitter, filled with everything left unsaid, filled with a love that would never be theirs.
Elara felt Kael's tears on her cheek, mingling with her own. The kiss felt like saying goodbye to a possible life, to a path they would never walk, to a version of herself that would forever remain in Paris with this man.
When they parted, their foreheads still touched. Their breaths were both ragged.
"This is for all the years we missed," whispered Elara, her voice breaking. "And for all the years we'll never have."
Kael held Elara's hand tightly, as if afraid that if he let go, Elara would truly be lost forever. "I'll miss you every day. Every time I see the purple of a sunset. Every time I smell croissants. Every time I hear French."
"Don't," Elara shook her head, tears streaming. "Don't make Paris a prison of memories. Make it... a place where we were once happy for a little while."
THE FINAL RELEASE
They parted in the middle of the bridge, each walking in opposite directions. Elara turned once, seeing Kael standing there, his silhouette blending with the grey Parisian sky. She raised her hand, waving a final farewell.
Kael returned the wave, then turned away. But before completely leaving, he shouted with a voice carried by the wind: "Be happy, El! That's all I want!"
Elara couldn't answer. Her chest was too tight with suppressed sobs. She walked quickly, almost running, away from the bridge, from the memories, from the love she had to leave behind.
BACK TO REALITY
In the luxurious hotel where David was staying, Elara entered with red, swollen eyes. David understood immediately. He didn't ask questions, just offered a blanket and a cup of warm tea.
"Papa," Alisha asked innocently, "why is Mama crying again?"
David lifted his daughter. "Sometimes we cry not because we're sad, sweetie. But because we have to say goodbye to something beautiful."
"Like saying goodbye to Paris?" asked Alisha.
"Like saying goodbye to Paris," David repeated, his eyes meeting Elara's.
Elara accepted the tea, her hands still trembling. Her lips still felt warm from the farewell kiss, from the taste of Kael that would forever taste like Paris—beautiful, temporary, and distant.
THE RETURN FLIGHT
Throughout the journey to the airport, Elara was silent. David gave her space. He held her hand occasionally, not forcing, just an affirmation that he was there.
At the airport, as they waited in the lounge, Elara saw a familiar figure in the distance. Kael. He stood behind a pillar, not approaching, just watching. Paying his final respects.
Elara nodded slowly, her eyes glistening. Kael returned the nod, then turned and left forever.
ABOVE THE CLOUDS
As the plane took off, Alisha fell asleep in her lap. David held Elara's hand.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?"
"For giving us a chance.I won't waste it."
Elara looked out the window, watching the lights of Paris grow smaller. There, she left part of her heart—with the man who loved her simply and sincerely, in the city where she learned to smile again.
But ahead of her was home. And family. And a chance to heal.
She closed her eyes, feeling the conflict that hadn't fully subsided. Love for David, wounded but still alive. Love for Kael, beautiful but had to be left behind. And love for Alisha, which was her compass.
That farewell kiss would forever be the punctuation mark in the Paris chapter of her life. A bitter but necessary closure. An acknowledgment that some loves aren't meant to be possessed, only felt, remembered, and released.
Perhaps in life, we don't always choose what we want, but what is right. And for Elara, what was right was to return, forgive, and rebuild—not just for herself alone, but for the little girl who looked at her with eyes full of trust.
Paris might be the place where she rediscovered her old love. But home is where she must revive the love she has chosen.
And her choice was made. With tears, with a farewell kiss, with a heart torn yet with firm resolve.