They landed at Charles de Gaulle beneath a clear morning sky. Daniel watched the runway markings blur beneath the wing as the aircraft slowed, feeling an unexpected surge of gratitude for an arrival that required no confrontation and no explanation. The passengers rose after the seat-belt sign went off, gathering bags and exchanging the small polite negotiations of people trying to move through a narrow aisle. Anthony thanked everyone as they exited. When he wished the Harrises a happy anniversary one more time, Alana told him he had helped them begin it beautifully.
The trip through the airport and into Paris was pleasantly ordinary. Their luggage arrived, their passports were checked, and a driver took them toward the city along streets lined with trees and apartment buildings. Alana watched the neighborhoods change through the window. She had traveled to France before for conferences, but those trips had involved hotels near meeting centers and dinners spent discussing research. Now she had nothing to do but watch the city approach with her husband's hand resting beside hers on the seat.
Their hotel room overlooked a narrow stretch of the Seine between rooftops. The balcony was as small as Daniel had warned, barely large enough for two chairs, but the river was there, reflecting the soft afternoon light. Alana stepped outside before unpacking and stood with both hands on the rail. Daniel came behind her, and she leaned back against him. They listened to traffic, distant voices, and the quiet movement of water below.
"Worth six months of waiting?" he asked. Alana considered the question. "I would have preferred not to wait," she said. Then she turned in his arms and smiled.
"But yes. I'm glad we're here." They stayed on the balcony until the light shifted and the river began to darken, neither feeling a need to fill the silence with plans.
The following day they walked through a market where stalls displayed flowers, fruit, and cheeses wrapped in paper. Daniel tried ordering breakfast in French with an accent that made Alana cover her mouth to hide a laugh. He accepted the correction from the patient woman behind the counter and tried again. Alana bought a small bunch of white flowers for their hotel room, and Daniel carried them through the streets with an expression of exaggerated solemnity. They took photographs of things no travel guide would have recommended: a blue door, a crooked street sign, a cat sleeping in a bookstore window.
They visited the Louvre but did not attempt to see everything. At one point, standing before a painting, Daniel whispered an interpretation that made Alana laugh loud enough to draw a disapproving look from another visitor. She told him he had spent enough time being serious in public and was now free to embarrass her in ordinary ways. He accepted the permission with enthusiasm. They left the museum before either of them became tired and found a café where they spent an hour watching people pass beneath the trees.
On the evening of their anniversary dinner, Alana put on the midnight-blue dress. Daniel stood near the hotel window adjusting his tie and turned when she entered the room. He had watched her deliver lectures before hundreds of people, calm frightened patients, and negotiate with executives who assumed she was only present to take notes. Yet the sight of her standing beside a hotel mirror with a shy smile made him feel exactly as he had on their wedding day. He stepped closer and told her she was beautiful.