Rachel spent the rest of the weekend in one of two places. With her friends or family, or on the phone with Ross. She knew about his vacation extension, no more surprises for a while.
By the time the weekend ended, she was happy for the love of her friends. They all went to the airport to see her off. Ross was waiting on the other end, and she had taken a week off.
They walked the River Seine, became (temporarily) interred in the Bastille Saint-Antoine, crossed the Pont Neuf, examined the Notre Dame de Paris, and saw the Conciergerie Prison.
They held hands and kissed under a bridge. They held each other tight at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night.
They talked of themselves, each other, and them together. They began to talk about the future. And they loved each other at night.
By the end of that week, he had a job at the University of Paris in the Paleontology Department and was learning French.
Their friends were planning on coming to visit for Christmas. Phoebe wanted to make Paris beat London all to hell.
He'd let her go, but it was meant to be.