Warnings for this chapter: foul language, mentions of infidelity, and descriptions of depression. More notes at the end of the chapter.

No matter how far away I went, I couldn't escape the very thing that was chipping away at my soul. A year ago, I had it all figured out. I had a great job as an editor for a small publishing house, I was engaged to a man that I loved and he loved me in return. I was even working on a book. I had everything that I could have ever dreamed for and I was preparing to turn the page to a new chapter of my life. Everything was just right, or so I thought.

All hell suddenly broke loose one night when I had gotten back from work to have my now ex-fiancé tell me that he was having cold feet. He told me that he needed more time and that he wanted to make sure that this is truly what he wanted. In the back of my mind, I knew that I had been too understanding when he made his confession, but I couldn't help it; I was too in love to see the signs.

Soon after his confession, I found out that my ex-fiancé hadn't told me the whole truth. It was true that he wasn't ready for marriage, but what he had forgotten to mention was that he wasn't ready to start a marriage with me. It only took a couple of days after the "temporary break" for him to profess his love to our neighbor, a sophomore college student that I had taken a liking to. Looking back, I realized that I was too absorbed with my life to notice that he had been fucking our younger neighbor.

The next few months after my ex-fiancé had left were some of the worst months of my life. It had felt just as terrible as when my parents had told me that they were getting a divorce when I was eight years old. I knew that divorce was the only option for them and a part of me was relieved that they didn't drag out their marriage for my sake, but that knowledge and relief did not take away from the bitter sting of the loss of having a "whole family."

The worst part of the end of my relationship with Nick was living in the apartment that we had shared. Every moment that I had spent existing in the apartment forced me to relive and nitpick every single interaction that I had with my ex-fiancé. It enraged me to know that he had thrown away five years of our life together for a person that he had only known for less than a year. It didn't make any sense. He was the one to pursue me when I had first met him, so I didn't understand why he would throw it all away. Eventually, I couldn't help but think that perhaps I had just been a placeholder until Nick found someone better.

Even with all the heartache, sorrow, and regret, I did try to pick up whatever pieces were left of my fragmented soul. The inner feminist in me pushed to not let myself to be destroyed by a limp penis. Thanks to a drastic decision that I had taken, after attempting to completely redecorate the apartment to eradicate the memory of my ex-fiancé, I was starting to have some good moments, even though I was still grappling with the emptiness of depression resulting from the betrayal and break up. Since all the changes I had made in our once shared apartment had made no difference, I sold everything, packed up my bags, and moved out of the country, far from the reminders of what I had lost.

It was my pain and sorrow that had brought me to my current state, staring at a blank document in my office with no air conditioning, because heaven forbid there be air conditioning in the middle of the blazing summer in the South of France. I had been living in Nîmes for four months, and although the nights I spent in my small apartment were still lonely, I was starting to forget my sorrows during the day. A major reason why my days had been doing better was because the French work day agreed with me. Lunch breaks could go up to two hours long and the knowledge of having a good amount of vacation time was a great comfort to me. In fact, there were some moments where I found myself wishing that I had found out about Nick's infidelity earlier so that I could have come here sooner.

My cousin, Cherry, also lived in Nîmes. Although unlike my post as a freelance writer, Cherry was a high school English teacher. On Tuesdays and Thursdays we would take our lunch breaks together and meet to eat wherever we liked, but since the Summer days were unbearably hot, lately we had been having lunch at Cherry's house.

With a sigh, I took a look around my desk to get ready to leave when the clock on my iMac said that it was 12pm - or midi, as my boss had often reminded me when I had stayed in my office past 12:05pm. The French took le déjeuner to be a vital meal for one's well being. Although one could argue that all meals were considered to be very important to the French. I had never eaten so well in my entire life since before coming to France. It wasn't that I had never had good food before coming to France, it's just that I hadn't taken much time to appreciate meals unless it was for a special occasion and more often than not, meals were treated with care in France.

After assessing what I would need for my lunch break, I packed my white and purple card wallet that I had left out on my desk earlier when I had taken it out to pay a bill, my office keys, my home keys, and of course my phone. I bid my coworkers goodbye with an awkward au revoir and left the office building to meet Cherry in front of the school building that was only a few blocks away. The day would have been beautiful, if it were not for the sweltering heat. Thankfully I had opted to wear a dress to fight off the heat, knowing that I would be spending even a little bit of time outside. I made sure to walk at a quick pace past all of the boutiques and shops that did a very good job of enticing me to enter and look at what they had to offer, especially the clothing stores.

Within ten minutes, I found myself standing in front of the high school that was crowded with both teachers and students alike leaving the building to go out and enjoy their déjeuner. I searched amongst the crowd for a woman with brightly dyed red hair, and despite my cousin's unique look, I could not find her. Instead, I made eye contact with a coworker of Cherry's that I had been introduced to a few weeks ago. With a deep breath, I mentally prepared myself to speak with the coworker, as he only spoke French and I had only been learning the language for a few months now.

"Bonjour. Où est Cherry?" I slowly and carefully asked the man, in hopes that he understood my broken French and knew where I could find my cousin. Thankfully he understood my plight and kept his response simple.

"Là-bas," he replied, pointing towards the entrance of the school. I turned my gaze and immediately spotted my cousin animatedly chatting with one of her coworkers.

"Merci!" I said before quickly walking up the steps of the school to announce my presence to my cousin. If we were back in the States, I would have spoken loudly and dramatically to get Cherry's attention, but I quickly learned that the French frowned upon people being loud in public spaces, especially in public transit.

I had been worried about interrupting the conversation that Cherry was having with her coworker, as I was still trying to figure out if the French had a preferred way in which it was acceptable to interrupt a conversation. Fortunately my cousin had looked in my direction before I could fumble with a "pardon."

"Daphne! You're here!" Cherry rejoiced. She turned to her coworker to assure her that they would continue their discussion later. "On parlera plus tard."

After moving away from the crowd of eager students discussing their next destinations, Cherry and I soon found ourselves at her home, enjoying our lunch, which consisted of a baguette sandwich and some leftover soup that Cherry's partner had made. As per usual, we had taken to discussing our day and plans for the upcoming weekend. I treasured these moments that I spent with Cherry. Oftentimes I would forget the doom and gloom that had befallen me earlier this year when feeling the Sun's rays shine through the dining room windows of Cherry's home. It was one of the few times that I could feel some sense of peace, even if it only lasted for a moment.

"I can't believe that you've already been here for four months," Cherry commented. "I know that you said your contract was only for six months, so do you think you will stay if the company offers you a more permanent position?"

I put down my baguette sandwich and sat back against the chair to think over my cousin's question. Things at Nîmes were going well, even if I still had many times that I felt sad and lost. But despite my sadness, I had found joy in my work and joy in living in such a beautiful city. I had also found comfort in being closer to my cousin.

"Well, if they offered me a permanent position, then I think that I would stay. Even if the work is hard, at least I can go on real vacations and I can go see the world, try to live more of my life."

Cherry nodded her head in approval and placed her hand on top of mine. "I'm happy that you're here."

"Me too," I replied, with a smile. I was lucky to have such an understanding person in my life. Even with mental illness being a normalized part of people's lives, it was still difficult to find people that would be patient, kind, and understanding.

"We should go on a trip together, to Switzerland. There's a place that I've been wanting to visit," Cherry said. I took another bite from my sandwich before replying.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I want to see Lucerne. A girl that I knew in high school posted pictures a few days ago of her trip there on Instagram and it looks so beautiful. We have to go!" Cherry explained.

"We should go after I get things figured out with work," I said after finishing the last bite of my sandwich.

Cherry enthusiastically nodded and proceeded to also finish her meal. "Yes! And we can go see sites together, go shopping, and eat our way through Switzerland," Cherry said, throwing in that last suggestion as she knew that I had a passion for food. "Speaking of which, was it good?" She asked, gesturing to the food.

"It was! I don't think that I can see sandwiches the same again after always having them with freshly made bread."

Cherry laughed in agreement. "I don't think either of us will ever be able to go back to a lot of things after being here. I know the taxes here are complete shit and things aren't perfect, but I will take the pros and cons of being here rather than dealing with the shit back home."

"That's true," I said with a sigh. "I don't see myself going back either."

A short silence between the two of us followed, before Cherry was reminded of something that she had to say. "Before I forget, I have a favor to ask you," she said. I looked up from my empty plate and tilted my head to the side.

"What is it?"

"Michelle and I are going to Marseilles to visit her grandmother, but we can't bring Émeric with us to see her. Could you stay here for a few days and watch over him while we are gone?" Cherry asked.

I didn't have to think twice about agreeing to watch over my cousin's six year old son. "Of course! I'd be happy to."

Cherry jumped from her seat and ran along the table to me to give me a hug. "Thank you, Daphne! This means so much to us."

I didn't hesitate to return the hug as I replied. "Of course. I'm always happy to help you both out." Our hug and lunch was cut short with Cherry's phone going off, alerting her of something that needed to be taken of at school. We quickly rinsed our dishes and made our way to Cherry's car so that she could drop me off at my workplace.

We bid each other goodbye after Cherry had dropped me off, promising to meet for lunch again next week.

In the blink of an eye, my Thursday and Friday had passed by without any issue. Work had done a good job of keeping my mind occupied, but very little seemed to help me deal with my loneliness as I sat on my couch early Saturday evening.

I had poured myself a couple glasses of wine that had been gifted to me by Michelle, Cherry's wife, upon my three month anniversary of living in Nîmes. I had made sure to only drink enough to get myself slightly tipsy. I didn't want to get drunk, even if I did want to forget about the things that brought me down. Drinking away my sadness would only leave me feeling more miserable.

Looking out the window of my living room, I couldn't help but admire the beautiful blue sky that would soon transition to a sunset. After checking the weather on my phone, I gave in to the urge to visit my favorite place in Nîmes, the Jardins de la Fontaine. Cherry had taken me there my first weekend in Nîmes and ever since then, I had frequented the park several times.

After changing into a pair of black shorts and strapless green top, I grabbed my house keys and phone, before leaving to go to the park. One of the simple joys of life came from the comfort of knowing my way with ease to just about any destination; it was a talent that I had, always knowing how to make my way around and very seldom would I find myself lost. Despite walking the fine line between sobriety and tipsiness, I soon found myself at the Jardins de la Fontaine and quickly made my way to the principal fountain of the park.

Green leaves decorated the ground and blew past me as I looked around to see that there weren't many people in the park, which wasn't too much of a surprise since it was just past 8 o'clock and people were starting their dinners. The lack of people made it easier for me to sit on the low fence that surrounded the main fountain without any guilt. Below where my feet swung, I could see the water from the canal that contributed to the fountain. The distance between my feet and the water sobered me up, as I knew that falling from that height would certainly hurt.

Closing my eyes, I let the fresh breeze blow against my face and hair. I wasn't sure how long I sat on the ledge, allowing myself to live in the moment and not let any worries take root in my mind.

I was abruptly brought out of my meditative state when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, letting me know that I had a message. The screen lit up within the low light of the evening as I read the "I hope you're having a good weekend," message that Cherry had sent. Smiling at my cousin's thoughtfulness, I paused to think of a reply. I wanted to tell Cherry that I was doing fine, and to an extent, I was much more fine than I had been in a while. I was making progress, but there was still a giant hole in my heart and it seemed like no matter what I did it was still there, reminding me that something was missing. Moving to Nîmes had helped with taking my mind off of things, but when the world got quiet, my mind got louder.

Despite my sudden melancholy, I let Cherry know that I was visiting the Jardins de la Fontaine and enjoying myself. Putting my phone back in my pocket, I felt a coin rub against the inside of the pocket. I pulled it out and couldn't help but laugh at seeing a quarter. I didn't often keep change or paper money on, and I had thought that I had exchanged all of my spare change into Euros. Upon inspecting the coin, an idea came to my mind. Looking around, I double checked to see if anyone was near, and when I found myself to still be alone I tossed the coin into the water and closed my eyes to make my wish. Even though I wasn't in Rome, there was a colosseum in Nîmes, which led me to hope that maybe this fountain could act like the Trevi Fountain. I hoped that someone, somewhere out there could hear my wish and grant it. More than anything in the world I wanted to move on from the pain. I wanted to believe in love again. I wanted to be free.

I knew that wishes, if they were ever to be granted, took time to take root, so I stayed seated on the ledge. I closed my eyes and imagined what it could look like if my wish came true.

My imagination didn't run too far as I was brought back to the present by the sound of shouting. I turned around to see what was going on, but miscalculated my position and fell into the waters of the fountain. The initial shock of falling into the water had caused me to freeze for just a moment, but upon holding in my breath, I pushed my arms against the water to swim up to the surface. It should've taken only a few seconds to swim up, but I found myself sinking deeper into the fountain. Looking above, the park faded away and the panic really began to settle in. I wanted to scream for help, but I knew nobody would hear me.

My arms quickly tired, but I still continued to push my legs to bring me to the surface. The exhaustion from swimming overtook me and I closed my eyes, praying to whatever gods or entity that could hear me to help me find a way to get out of the water.

Suddenly, I could hear a person shouting from above the surface and I opened my eyes. The person's voice sounded garbled, but I could tell that they were distressed. With newfound strength and determination, I swam up to the surface, ignoring the new weight that seemed to pull me down.

Upon my head breaking away from the surface of the water, I gasped for air and pushed my legs to keep me afloat so that I could catch a few more breaths.

"My lady, my lady! Are you alright?" A frantic voice called out. I looked up to see a young girl looking at me with terror filled in her eyes. If I hadn't just almost drowned, I would have questioned the way she addressed me, but I needed to focus on breathing and getting out of the water. The young girl stretched out her hand and I didn't hesitate to accept the help as she pulled me out. "I'm so sorry, my lady. I wanted to come in after you, but I cannot swim. I warned you to not get too close to the edge of these waters."

My breaths were still labored as I sat on the grass. The girl knelt down beside me and assessed me. She gasped and I turned to her. "What is it?"

"You've hit your head, my lady! It's bleeding," she frantically said.

"I didn't hit my head," I stated. The girl continued to stare at my head and I lifted my hand to touch it. I gasped, feeling a warm liquid that definitely was not water. I brought my hand down to see that the girl was indeed right, I was bleeding, but it didn't make any sense. I had fallen into the water, but never hit my head against anything hard enough for there to be any bleeding. As I looked down at my hand, I noticed that I wasn't wearing shorts anymore. Instead, I found myself to be wearing a modest blue gown.

I looked at the girl and found her in a similarly styled dress, although it was a lot more modest and plain than mine, with an apron that covered the front of her skirts and a bonnet that covered most of her blonde hair. I tore my gaze away from her and looked around to see that I was still in a park, but nothing I saw was reminiscent of the Jardins de la Fontaine.

"We need to see a maester immediately, my lady," the girl said. She stood up and tried to pull me up with her.

"A maester? Where am I? Who are you? I'm not a lady," I said. The girl's mouth dropped open and I was certain she was about to cry.

"My lady," she cried out. "You are Lady Aryanne of House Tyrell. We are in Highgarden. I am your handmaid, Ethel. Do you not know these things? We must fetch for a maester."

"No! I am not," I said, pulling away from her. "My name is Daphne and we are in Nîmes, not Highgarden. That's not an actual place. I'm not stupid."

The young girl grew more distressed with each word that I said and I grew more frustrated. I was the one who had just drowned and although I appreciated her help in getting me out of the water, this whole ruse was completely unnecessary.

The girl grabbed my hand once again, and pleaded with me. "My lady, please. Please look around. You are in Highgarden. You hit your head and you know not who you are or where you are. Please, let a maester take a look at you."

I sighed, knowing that I wasn't going to get anywhere if I didn't even recognize my surroundings. The neatly trimmed hedges with beautiful flowers created the boundaries for the path that we stood on. The garden was quiet, save for the chirping of birds, but that was not what convinced me that something was terribly wrong. I looked up to the sky expecting to see the Sun setting below the horizon and instead found that it was shining high in the sky, which could only mean one thing - I was fucked.

"Oh. my. god."

A/N: Thank you for coming here to read my fic! I hope that you have enjoyed what you have read so far. Please leave a review and fave the story if you want to keep reading! I have this whole fic planned out, so updates shouldn't feel like pulling too many teeth, lol. The chapter should be the only time that I use French and I tried to make it clear what people were saying when a French word or phrase was spoken. I tried to imply the meaning of the French phrases within the story, but in case you wanted absolutely clarity, here is what each phrase means:
Midi: noon/12pm
Le déjeuner: lunch
Au revoir: goodbye
Bonjour. Où est Cherry: Hello. Where is Cherry?
Là-bas: Over there
Merci: Thank you
Pardon: Excuse me; pardon me
On parlera plus tard: We will talk later.
Jardins de la Fontaine: Gardens of the Fountain