She exhaled as she stepped into the bubbles and shaved her legs for the first time in ages. This is the life, she thought to herself, relishing soaking in the warm water.

Afterward, she wrapped herself in a fluffy robe and towel dried her hair. She put on one of Babs’s summer dresses and sat down at an art nouveau dressing table to apply some makeup.

Thank goodness I listened to Aaron and didn’t stay in that awful hotel last night, she thought.

After their dinner at the bistro, Aaron had escorted Carla back to her hotel, as promised. “This isn’t a good area,” he’d repeated as they passed groups of people hanging around in doorways. “Please believe me.”

Carla had glanced around at the pink neon lights in bars she hadn’t noticed during the daytime and at the litter scattered around her feet. A man lay in a doorway clutching a bottle of brandy, shouting something to her in French. Reluctantly, she’d finally agreed to Aaron’s offer to stay in the penthouse apartment.

After she’d retrieved her backpack, they’d strolled along the banks of the Seine together. Lights from all the barges and houseboats cast turquoise and silver ripples on the water, interspersed with reflections of the stars, and the Eiffel Tower was like a gold arrow pointing to the sky.

Never in a million years had Carla ever imagined she’d be back in Paris with her ex-husband. Although she knew she wasn’t being unfaithful, spending time with him—in such a romantic setting—felt illicit.

Aaron had swiped a card to let them into the building and they’d taken an elevator up to the eighth floor. Carla could smell plaster and fresh paint, and the silence of their surroundings had felt like a secret.

“We’re the only ones here,” Aaron had said in a hushed voice that added to the intrigue. “Viewings don’t start until next week.” He’d opened the door to the apartment and motioned for Carla to enter first.

Her mouth had fallen open at the sight before her.

The apartment was vast, all stripped floorboards and a smoked-glass dining table set for six people using the finest tableware. The cream linen sofa and chairs had chic chrome legs, and vintage copies of Vogue were arranged artfully on the bookshelves. Touches of luxury were everywhere, including designer rugs and expensive scented candles, which made the place look fit for royalty.

Aaron had slid open the full-length glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony. “Join me. The view is magnificent.”

Carla had stood at his side and they’d both looked out across the city.

“Sometimes, I visit these places and turn around to tell you something, to look at something, and of course you aren’t there. There’s nothing lonelier than visiting beautiful places and not having anyone to share them with,” Aaron had confessed.

“Surely you show them to your clients? You must have dated other women after me.”

He’d smiled tightly in response. “More than I choose to remember, though somehow, my thoughts always come back to you.” As he’d turned to face her, the lights of Paris sparkled in his eyes. “It would be nice to spend some more time together. Here. Tonight.”

Carla had closed her eyes, her lashes brushing her cheeks. It was easy to remember how warm and soft his lips were, how their bodies fitted together so well, but she shook her head.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” Aaron had added. “We can just talk.”

Carla could picture wrapping herself in a blanket and talking to Aaron by candlelight until the early hours of the morning. It was too easy to imagine a soft rap on her bedroom door in the middle of the night and his silhouette moving toward her.

“Aaron...” she’d started.

“Yes?” He’d tilted his head, moving a little closer to her.

Carla had breathed in the warm air and knew she had to sear the moment and stop everything in its tracks, before anything went any further, even if it meant revealing something to him that she hadn’t yet told her family. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh. Right.” Aaron’s fingers had snapped into his palms, and his voice took on a more businesslike quality. “Congratulations. When are you due?”

“I don’t know the exact date.”

He’d nodded, and a mistiness in his eyes told Carla he was recalling the string of events that had ended their marriage. “Then I’m glad you’re here and not staying in that scruffy hotel,” he’d said softly.

He’d put his arm around her shoulder, and nothing about it had felt romantically charged. It was closure, an apology and a wish-you-well gesture all rolled into one. She’d let him hold her for a while, her head finding a place in the hollow of his neck.

“You’ll make a brilliant mum. I’ve always thought that. I wish I’d had the chance to experience it for myself, if things had worked out between us,” Aaron had whispered into her hair. “If things ever change in your life, don’t work out with Tom, you know where to find me. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Carla had closed her eyes, knowing his words had come too late. She’d needed to hear them over a decade ago as they’d limped toward their divorce. Thank you, she’d mouthed.

They’d talked a bit more on the balcony and Aaron had left the apartment in the early hours. As they’d stood facing each other on the threshold of the building, the hug they’d shared had been tinged with regret.

After he’d left, Carla had settled down to sleep with her curtains open so she could look out at the city skyline. She’d thought about the men she’d revisited and realized each one had been important to her, in their own way.

She’d learned about culture and the power of curiosity from Ruben, and to be aware of her own boundaries from Pedro. Adam had given her confidence and a touch of glamour, and Daniel had taught her to be resourceful. Fidele was kind, patient and had immersed her in nature, showing her what a steady, stable life—and love—could look like. And Aaron? She could see now, in hindsight, that he’d offered her an interesting yet familiar comfort, a buzz of excitement and intensity. Their whirlwind, tumultuous love had existed in extremes, just like the erratic relationship she’d shared with her mum.

They’d all influenced Carla. So where did that leave Myrtle’s prediction? Which one of these men could possibly help her to crush her family curse, once and for all?

Her attention had finally turned to Tom, and she now felt ready to tell him everything. Even though they hadn’t met during her gap year, she was sure he had to be the one, especially now that they were going to be parents. It no longer mattered to her if any predictions or curses said otherwise.

Carla shook her head, dragging her thoughts away from last night, and hummed as she applied more makeup. She jumped when a knock sounded on her bedroom door, and her mascara slipped from her fingers.

A paper bag and cardboard cups appeared on a silver tray, followed by Aaron’s smiling face. “I thought you might like breakfast in bed,” he said. “I’ve brought warm croissants and some fresh coffee. Are you decent?”

“Yes,” she said, reaching down to pick up the mascara. “Fortunately for you, I am.”

He perched on the edge of her bed and they ate together, carefully pressing their fingers to their lips so they wouldn’t get flakes on the sheets. It reminded Carla of their honeymoon when they were younger, less jaded, less wise. It wasn’t so much a last supper, but a last breakfast together before they resumed their usual lives.

“I can show you around Paris today,” Aaron suggested hopefully. “Perhaps we could...”

Carla pressed a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Let’s just enjoy our food.”

He nodded. “I’ve bought some freshly squeezed orange juice, too, vitamin C for the baby. I’ll go get it,” he said, then stood and headed into the living room.

Carla covered her knees with her robe and ate another croissant, breathing in the serenity of the apartment and gathering some strength for her journey home, and for seeing Tom again.

She’d left her phone charging in the living room overnight and it took her a while for her to realize it was ringing. The noise echoed around the voluminous space. Carla placed the breakfast tray to one side and got off the bed, hurrying into the other room to answer the call.

Things seemed to fall into slow motion as she saw Aaron reaching for her phone. Carla rushed forward, holding out a hand to stop him, but her fingers swept helplessly through thin air.

She could only watch as he pressed her phone to his ear and said, “Hello, Aaron Frame speaking.”

Carla’s eyes widened with fear, and she hoped and prayed that her ex-husband hadn’t just picked up a call from her fiancé.

Aaron listened, pulled a face, shrugged and lowered the phone. “Not sure who that was,” he said. “They hung up.”

Carla grabbed the phone from him and frantically examined her call list. Her entire body stiffened when she saw Tom’s name. “You should have let me get that,” she said with a deep groan. “Tom and I haven’t spoken since I told him I was pregnant. I’ve been waiting for him to get in touch.”

“Sorry. I go on autopilot when I hear a phone ringing.”

Carla sank down onto the sofa and grabbed a cushion for comfort. She combed her fingers through her hair, her mind racing.

“Is there anything I can do?” Aaron asked.