"Want to go to Paris with me this weekend?"
"I thought you're not into traveling." Stunned by the invitation, Burke placed his glasses beside the lamp and looked up from the book he was reading. "Besides, didn't you say Paris is a bit too romantic for your liking?"
"Yes, I'd rather be reaping people's heart out at the hospital." Cristina tinted her response with a sullen face.
Cracking his neck, Burke asked in an amused tone, "Then why are you asking?"
"My teacher. She's getting married." Cristina threw a fancy pink invitation card at Burke. "My teacher getting married for the first time at the age of 60. How can I say no?"
"They're getting married in Paris?"
"I heard her fiancé is French." Cristina stuck out her tongue.
"Does she speak the language?"
"French people also speak English." Cristina massaged her legs with her favorite lotion. "Besides, she's my French Literature teacher in college. She's from Quebec."
"I see." Burke smirked. "I didn't know you speak French."
Growing impatient, Cristina ignored his question, "Will you come with me or not?"
"Is she gonna pay for her students' tickets? And that of their significant others?"
"Unless her husband is a millionaire," Cristina turned off the light. "You know she's inviting all her students."
"That means I get to meet your classmates too."
"Yea. Whatever." Cristina did not sound enthusiastic at all. Before the next question came out of Burke's mouth, she had already fallen asleep.
We're going to Paris. Preston Burke was thrilled that after dating Cristina for four years now, they were finally getting out of Seattle together, even if it was just for a weekend.
Boarding the overnight flight with excitement, it seemed like only a few minutes have passed before he was standing in front of Cristina's teacher in Paris.
"Cristina, Ma chère! Ça va bien?"
"Oui, merci. It's good to see you again, Jeanne." Cristina was trying to catch her breath after the passionate hug from her teacher.
Pulling Burke closer to her, Cristina continued, "This is Dr. Preston Burke—"
"C'est ton mari? Un homme parfait!"
"Jeanne, Burke, uh, my boyfriend, he doesn't speak French."
When Burke heard Cristina describe him as her boyfriend to someone outside the hospital, someone from her past, his heart leaped with pride.
"Really? I thought you'd only go out with guys who speak French."
"Jeanne!"
"Ok. I'll keep my big mouth shut." Like her beloved student, Jeanne Latimer was a petite lady with very delicate features. Putting the word big and mouth together was, therefore, comical.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jeanne."
"Pleasure to meet you too, Burke."
"Preston, his first name is Preston." The word that normally flew out as freely as tap water sounded surprisingly odd when it was her teacher who used it.
"I know, darling. But you call him Burke, so I'll call him Burke as well."
A gentle beam covered Burke's face. Cristina was not sure if it stemmed out of politeness or awkward embarrassment.
"Tell me Burke, why Cristina?"
Burke looked at his girlfriend and began to lick his lips.
"C'mon Jeanne, you can't start grilling my boyfriend at 7 in the morning!"
"OK, let me ask again at 7 pm."
Cristina pressed her hand over her forehead. It wasn't the time that concerned her, it was his response. What if, what if he said something inappropriate?
Seeing the worried expression on Cristina, Jeanne laughed, "My darling, I was kidding. But I do ask my Charles this question all the time."
"Jeanne, why don't you tell us more about your fiancé?" Burke tried to shift the attention.
"Charles is 62. Still a handsome fellow. Just like you."
Burke's cheeks grew warm.
"How did you and Charles meet?"
"Here in Paris. Forty years ago."
Cristina starred at her teacher, shocked. "Forty years? Is that why you never got married, until now?"
"I was an exchange student. We never knew if things would last. Just like you, Cristina. I'm sure there must have been a fling or two when you're in Paris that semester! Then we lost touch. But he never lost his place in my heart…Some people, you know they are meant to be together. You know I'm a hopeless romantic."
Seeing his girlfriend blush, Burke was now paying full attention to the conversation. "Cristina, you lived in Paris before?"
"Yes." Cristina responded with some hesitation.
"And she never told you she's fluent in French? When I read her letters from Paris, she seemed to be so in love with the city that I thought she'd never come back."
Unbelievable, thought Burke. Cristina always seemed ambivalent towards Paris.
"It's so long ago, Jeanne."
"Of course. And you moved on." Jeanne steered her car into the hotel driveway. "But certain things stay the same. Paris has not changed since my very first visit."
Looking at the streets and buildings around her, Cristina could not help but agreed.
"Anyway, I need to get ready for tomorrow. We're only inviting some friends, but it's a wedding no less."
"Thanks for the ride, Jeanne." Cristina hugged her teacher.
"Burke, I'm sure Cristina will be a wonderful tour guide. Enjoy your stay! See you tomorrow!"
After Jeanne was gone, Burke asked, "So, what do you want to do now?"
"I thought we're gonna stay in the hotel and sleep all day."
"Cristina, we're in Paris. I've never been to Paris before."
"So we're not staying in?"
"Nope."
"Aren't you tired?"
"Nope." Burke sounded very determined. "Let's go, Cristina. Show me your Paris."
Burke sounded like a little kid pleading his parents to take him to the circus.
"Alright." Cristina pulled her hair up into a bun, the way how many French women did. "I can't guarantee you we could check off all the tourist attractions in the guidebook in a day."
"We can always come back some day." Burke grinned as he put on his navy blue t-shirt.