62. Paris (2)

Josh sighed, his eyes closed for a moment, as if holding back a burst of frustration. He walked over to the sofa, looking at it with skepticism.

“It's small and hard, Ash,” he said, his tone getting heavy. "I've been exhausted since Korea. Had to spend the night with Sharon..."

Josh stopped, realizing his mistake in saying the name.

Ashley's face instantly changed. The look in her eyes froze.

“Yes, of course,” Ashley muttered, her voice laden with bitter sarcasm. “You're exhausted from ‘serving’ Sharon, then think I should just understand?”

Josh growled in frustration. “That's not what I meant!”

Ashley approached, standing just a few steps away from him, her body tensed like a bow ready to shoot.

“Every time I try to feel better about all this, every time I start to think maybe we could be friends, maybe even... more, you always remind me who I am in your eyes!” she said sharply.

"Just a formality. Someone you married because of a contract, while your heart is elsewhere."

Josh returned her gaze, his jaw hardening.

“I never asked you to expect more, Ashley,” he said coldly.

“And I never pretended to love you either.”

The words were like a hard punch to Ashley's chest. She pursed her lips, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to rise. Of course she knew the truth. She wasn't some stupid girl living in a fantasy. But to hear it said so sharply... It was like falling from a great height, directly into the harshness of reality.

“I know,” Ashley replied softly. “I know, Josh.”

The atmosphere between them froze.

Josh sighed loudly, rubbing his face with his hands, physically and mentally exhausted.

“I don't want to argue,” he said finally, his voice softer. "I just want to sleep in that bed. We can draw a line down the middle if you want. I promise I won't touch you."

Ashley gave her a long look.

He could have insisted. Could have made Josh sleep on that narrow couch, like a silent punishment for all the pain the man had unknowingly inflicted. But seeing Josh that night-with his shoulders slumped down, his pale face exhausted, and his desperate tone of voice-Ashley felt his anger begin to subside, though the hurt in his heart had not.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But don't ever cross that line.”

Josh nodded quickly, almost like a child being scolded.

“Deal.”

They both got ready for bed in stony silence.

Ashley went into the bathroom first, changed into some loose pajamas, then got into bed, lying as far to the edge of the bed as he could, his back facing Josh.

Josh changed after her, then carefully lay down on the other side of the bed, keeping as much distance from her as possible.

Between them, Ashley imagined there was an imaginary line that must not be crossed.

They lay in silence, the only sound being Josh's heavy breathing which finally began to calm down, the big body looking completely exhausted.

Ashley looked out the window.

The Eiffel Tower shone in the dark, majestic and eternal, like a promise never fulfilled.

Tears finally fell silently down her cheeks. She turned her back to the wall, hugging herself.

Josh didn't see her.

He was already asleep, finally finding the peace that Ashley couldn't touch.

And there Ashley was that night, in the city of love, lying next to the man she married, but whose heart was never hers.

That morning, the warm Parisian sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, filling the spacious room with golden light.

Ashley slowly opened her eyes, her body feeling heavy and... strange. There was something - or rather someone - clinging tightly behind her.

It took a few seconds for her consciousness to fully return.

When she did, her heart seemed to stop beating.

Josh.

The man, in his sleep, had unknowingly moved closer and was now hugging her from behind.

His arms wrapped around Ashley's waist, pulling her body into his embrace with an intimacy that took her breath away.

Ashley froze.

Josh's body felt warm against her back, his deep, steady breathing tickling the skin of her neck. The grip was so tight, as if Josh didn't want to let go.

Ashley closed her eyes again, trying to calm the wild pounding in her chest. She knew this was just an accident.

Josh was tired. Humans in sleep move involuntarily, seeking comfort.

But still... it felt so real. So painful.

Because as if, for this one small, accidental moment, she could imagine what it would be like to be loved by that man.

Ashley swallowed with difficulty.

She wanted to move, to break away. But another part of her, the fragile, desperate part, just wanted to stay in that embrace a little longer.

Just a little bit.

He lifted Josh's hand gently, intending to move it. But as soon as he moved, Josh groaned softly in sleep and hugged him even tighter, even lowering his face into the crook of Ashley's neck, mumbling something incoherent.

Ashley bit her lip, feeling mixed. Wanting to laugh, wanting to cry. How could she want something so badly that was never even really offered to her?

Moments later, Josh finally started to wake up. His body stiffened when he realized their position. His head lifted, his eyes half sleepily staring at Ashley's back, then he slowly pulled away in a clumsy motion.

“Sorry,” he muttered hoarsely. “I... I didn't mean to.”

Ashley kept her back to Josh, not saying anything. Afraid that if he spoke, his voice would break.

Josh sat on the edge of the bed, ruffling his hair in frustration. He knew this was making things worse. He knew Ashley must be angry.

But Ashley remained silent, pretending to be busy making the blankets, pretending not to care. Whereas in her heart, there was a storm that she could not suppress.

Because in that one accidental hug, she felt everything—longing, warmth, and pain—collide in one breath.

And it was far more devastating than sleeping apart last night.