Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. Evan sat alone in his apartment. Why had she left? Not so much as a word. Had he done something offensive? She would not even talk to him on the phone. Evan had come to Paris for love and he found it. He was happy at last, and he had lost it all in a moment. Where did everything go wrong?

It would never occur to Evan that everything went right.

Three weeks after she had left Evan overnight, Ophelia had set her mind strictly on Eric. First, to occupy herself with other things. Eventually, Eric had become denial. If she convinced herself that she was completely over Evan, she would be fine.

It was nothing she thought to herself. He was nothing! It was just another infatuation. Love doesn't exist anyways. And even if it did, what good what it do me?

Eric approached her at rehearsal that day, "Bonjour mademoiselle."

"Bonjour monsieur," Ophelia flashed a perfect smile as she greeted him.

"I was wondering if you'd care to join me for dinner tonight?"

"I don't know," she knew she wanted to. She was simply playing a game, "I think I'd be able to attend."

"Wonderful," he said. "When should I pick you up?"

She gave him her address and what time to pick her up. As he walked away, her face was devoid of the usual smirk she held. Ophelia knew in her heart she was doing the wrong thing. She knew she should be with Evan.

Ophelia was devoid of her usual excitement as she prepared for her date that evening. She had finished putting everything in its exact place as Eric arrived. She gracefully walked down the hall and opened the door. She stepped out and Eric grasped her and kissed her hard on the lips. She forced a giggle from her mouth. She locked her door behind her and Eric led her to his car. The ride was silent as he pulled up to the Eiffel Tower.

"I remember you saying that you enjoyed visiting it one evening," he explained.

How ironic, she thought to herself just as I had forgotten him.

Eric pushed the button for the elevator. "Wouldn't you like to climb the stairs? Get the full experience?" Ophelia was pleading. She knew her date was too shallow.

"Never," he replied, "my feet wouldn't make it up two steps."

The elevator dinged as it touched the ground, "Of course, how silly of me."

That night lacked the magic she had with Evan times ten. Deep down, Ophelia knew it but refused to accept it in her head. She told herself it was silly to want to break up over a flight of stairs. She had always used elevators, why were they so dreary now? Her heart knew, but it was toned out by her mind.

She returned to her house, and locked the door alone. She sat in her room without the lights on. Through the dark, she looked out the window. Ophelia was now convinced it was all boredom. She lay down on her bed, still fully clothed. A single tear rolled down her cheek: the first of many. That night, she cried herself to sleep.

At the next rehearsal, Ophelia was greeted with a kiss from Eric. Partly from shock, partly from the lack of love she returned the kiss with her eyes opened. He whispered sweet-nothings into her ear until rehearsal began to start. It was their dress rehearsal. That night would be the opening night of their play. "Break-a-leg" seemed to fill the entire end of the dress rehearsal. Ophelia saw Eric approach her. Out of fear, she ran. She would simply tell him she didn't see him. She did not even stop to say good- bye as she left.

Butterflies flew through everyone's stomachs as the curtain rose on the stage. The audience gradually got chillingly quiet. And the show began. Ophelia loved performing more than anything. The stage sent a rush through every part of her body. However, something was unsettling to her senses that night. Ophelia could never know, but Evan had come to see the show. He was in the last row in an aisle seat watching her every move.

After the show, he went looking for her. From behind stage, Ophelia could see him glancing about. She quickly grabbed Eric and allowed him to take her out for the evening. He made witty jokes and casual comments that allowed Ophelia to tell her head that this was the man she wanted to marry. Eric took her to one of the best restaurants in town. He had obviously been there many times, for many admirers soon joined them. Ophelia wanted him to herself; so as a way to flirt without being public in front of so many strangers, she slipped on foot out of her shoe and began to play footsie with him. At first Eric thought it was slightly juvenile of her, but he could not help but smirk at her with pleasure and brought his foot out to do the same.

After a half-an-hour, Eric finally got what she was trying to say. He took Ophelia by her hand and led her out. They laughed in seeming unison as they ran out into the starry night. Eric pressed against her and kissed lightly before running off with Ophelia to only-he-knew-where.

Ophelia guffawed as they ran past the glaring passers-by. Eric slowed his pace and she found herself at the gates of a manor. He unlocked the padlocked gate and opened it. As he led Ophelia into the main hall, she found security. She had always had a taste for fine things that were found in great number here. The manor blew Evan's tiny apartment. The hall alone held famous paintings and a grand piano. Eric grabbed her hand caressingly again and led her up the stairs.

Ophelia could see where this was going. She found herself in a flashback to her last night with Evan. He couldn't help but kiss her all the way up, unlike Eric who was loosely holding her hand. Normally she would not have thought about it, but she had changed. Evan had changed her. She was in love. No. There was no such thing as love. She needed security. Security that Eric, not Evan, could give her. So, she willingly allowed Eric to lock his door that night.