Paris, France.

“Good morning, husband.” She was up, her green eyes glowing brightly like the exotic expanse of the Great Amazon.

Lord, she was beautiful. He couldn’t deny that much. Smiling, he took his time staring at his wife with deep desire and everlasting love radiating through his own eyes.

He knew he hadn't committed an error marrying this amazing, noble, and kindhearted woman that he loved with all of his being. And by all luck in the world, she was finally his.

His for life.

“Oh, Mr. Hurst. You wound me. Should I say bonjour to have your full attention?” she teased him while snuggling closer to him.

Both of them were still buried under the white duvet at one of the best hotels in Paris.

“Good morning, wife,” he finally replied, laying a swift kiss on her cherry lips. She whined a thin moan that stole his smile again. “How was your night?” he asked afterwards.

“Couldn't have been better. It has indeed surpassed my imagination of my first night as a married woman. I'm looking forward to this day, husband.” Her head rested on his chest. “But so far, it's the best honeymoon I've ever dreamed of.”

Not that she was married before.

“That's all I needed to hear, sweetheart. I love you.” He kissed her hair this time, his arms tight around her slender body with a very warm skin.

“I love you too,” she replied, and when their eyes met, it felt like they were meeting again for the very first time—it was magical.

The attraction was still raw, and none of the two could deny the newlywed heat surrounding them so intensely. He didn't waste time pulling her back to their erotic bubble that only the walls could talk about since last night. God knew how happy being with her made him feel, and he prayed for nothing but an eternity with her.

They enjoyed a long time in bed, like all newlyweds do, making love and doing love. However, the lady was so excited to get out of the room, to finally see what the City of Light looked like without the darkness. It was her first time being in France, and Paris was her dream honeymoon destination which eventually came true.

Moments later she was ready for the day. Giddy and excited, she quickly finished her makeup and stepped out of the bedroom. Her eyes rested on her husband, and sunshine made him glow like a fallen angel. He was breathtaking, that much she could never deny.

“Hey you,” she muttered.

‘Hey, uh… wow!” He was awestruck, eyes wide and charmed. “You look.... stunning, my love.”

Indeed she was like a fresh leaf. Dressed up in a green umbrella dress, her long, brown hair waving down her shoulders, complementing the brown heels she was wearing, her beauty was quite remarkable.

“Thank you, Marc.” She smiled like a child, her cheeks flushed thoroughly. “And as always, you're so hot, and all mine.” She rushed toward him and thumped down on his lap, her joy quite palpable.

“Hmm, you look more excited than I thought,” Marc pointed while embracing her wholly.

She flushed, her smile broadening as she queried, “Do you think I'll get to see the beautiful Eiffel and the Palace of Versailles where they shot Midnight in Paris?”

It was one of her favorite movies.

“Maddie.” Marc chuckled, his corded fingers running through her soft hair.

“Hmm?”Her chest shored up and down as she breathed giddily.

“You're going to see everything you want to see, baby. But after we have breakfast, get it?”

“Oh shoot. I totally forgot about breakfast.” She giggled. He frowned at her. “Fine, I'll keep excitement at bay until you... No, we eat.”

“That’s good. Now let's go.” Marc urged her to stand up, and she did it only after a long kiss of his lips on hers. “I know the perfect place.”

Unlike her, Marc had been to Paris before, and to many other major cities of Europe. Being a successful businessman and an IT engineer, traveling was a side dish to his professional menu. But this time, however, he was overjoyed that he wasn't alone here. He was married; he had a wife—the woman of his life.

Madison Scott was his life.

Marc wanted to see that beautiful smile on Madison's face at any cost, even if it meant roaming around the streets of Paris without a course, entering and exiting every store and boutique, if not all the historic points she'd been listing down for weeks now. He took her to wherever she wanted for two days in a row.

And just as Maddie had envisioned Paris to be, it turned out to be a dream come true, and more. It was chicky, elegant, with so much to do and see. Despite her matured, warm, tender, and reserved personality, she was practically jumping around in glee like a little teenage girl on her first date.

She got to see the Eiffel tower, Versailles palace, and La Louvre, which fascinated her the most, and she was mind-blown during the boat ride tour in the Seine River where she could hold the whole Paris in her palm. They roamed, hand in hand, from one place to another, testing French food and wine, and she was extremely happy.

“Oh, Marc! I'm so happy that I could die without regrets,” Maddie said the next morning.

They were seated outside a small but very authentic café, not far from their hotel, enjoying the café crème and alluring French bread.

It was a must-try, so Marc said to his wife.

“And have you thought about me while considering dying without regrets?” Mark glanced at her over the large newspaper he'd been reading.

Maddie giggled. “Oh, come on, honey. It was just figures. You'll never get rid of me that easily, just so you know. I'll stick with you until your hair goes bald and gray—and even then you'll still have to deal with me and my tantrums.”

“If you say so.” Marc smiled, probably imagining how colorful his life's gonna be with this woman by his side.

Maddie was a woman of high essence and class. It was a pure fact. Listening to her right now, Marc recalled the first time he saw her playing piano to the children during the Charity event organized by his company. He was completely dumbstruck by both her talent and beauty.

He had to stay put for a minute, contemplating her stunning features. With her bright smile that melted his cold heart, Marc knew he had fallen in love with her; the love he never knew existed until he spoke to her, and even more when she asked if he was alright as his eyes were on her the whole evening.

That was two years ago.

“Do you mind if I leave you for a minute?” Maddie asked. “There's an antique shop across the street; I saw some interesting stuff. Mom will kill us if we don't bring souvenirs.”

“Okay, but don't take long, please,” Marc said reluctantly.

Minutes went by, with Marc glued to the newspaper while sipping his coffee slowly. The sight of people moving around the street, and the smell of coffee and other delicacies, were what distracted him from time to time.

He got tired in the end, and decided to call Maddie to at least hear that she was okay. Being outdoors on his own was always a bummer for him, and that's why he preferred being locked up in his company lab most of the time.

But this was his honeymoon.

He tugged his cellphone and made a call. He wanted no more minutes away from his wife, especially this early as it hadn't even been three days since he put a wedding band around her finger. It didn't take eternity for his wife's voice to go through his phone, resuming his mirthful mood altogether.

“Miss me already?” she teased, chuckling lightly. “I can see your furrows from up here.”

She loved telling him that, for he'd always frown at little things.

Grumpy one! She'd call him.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Right where I can see you,” she replied playfully.

Marc glanced to his left, then to his right, and eventually saw her waving her hand with a big smile across the road. His joy rose again.

“I see you now.” He took another sip of his coffee, relief washing over him.

“You can relax now; I'm not abducted by Aliens,” Maddie said, possibly rolling her eyes.

“I can't help worrying. With a beautiful wife like you, I'm afraid the French dudes may truly abduct you,” Marc enthused.

Maddie laughed heartily, feeling the butterflies branching their wings in her tummy. It's as though she was just falling in love with him now after two years of dating him. He wasn’t an easy guy to approach, or at least most people believed so, which meant being the only woman capable of breaking his walls was her secret victory.

She was proud of it.

“Well, that's too flattering, Mr. Hurst.” She glanced left and right, and the road was hers to cross.

“What is?” he retorted.

“The fact that I'm your beautiful wife?” She beamed, her heels click-clacking gently against the road surface.

“You're not modest, sweetheart, are you?”

“Not modest enough to not accept…”Her voice trailed off in a confusing fashion.

A big truck was coming out of nowhere, heading toward her at rocket speed. In response, numbness ran through her legs, as though she was under the anesthesia effect. She failed to think, or at least react, as everything moved too quickly for her mind to click accordingly.

“Maddie!” Her husband's voice snapped through the phone.

But she was motionless. The only thing she could hear was the engine revving loudly, a very brisk honking, tires screeching insanely, followed by a heavy impact on her body that sent her straight down the warm asphalt where she fell heavily on her tummy.

Her wallet, her cellphone, and her little shopping bags were all down with her, scattered around her. Cold and fear engulfed her and everything became gray in her barely opened eyes. She wanted to move but she couldn't, for she could feel almost nothing.

No, this wasn't real. Her breath was shallow, sunlight glowing on her like a beautiful promise of another day in paradise. But it wasn't any kind of utopia. It was hell, for death lurked around her like the face of hell she didn't know until today.

“Marc,” she faintly uttered, and tears fell gently across her face.

Marc felt like he was slowly dying as long as he wasn't there to hold her, and to feel her breathing and well. He ran like a mad man, jostling past anything and anyone while shouting her name like his own talisman, only to see blood surrounding his wife.

“No, no, no, no! God, no!” he cried.

Excruciating pain seared through him as he fell down on his knees, panting heavily in a shocked manner.

“Maddie? Maddie? Maddie?” He tried to lift her head slowly, to take her into his arms.

“Marc…” She was still breathing.

“I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here.” He was gargled, his wit too scattered to even think straight. 

“Hold me…” Maddie whispered.

He held her tight.

“Don't talk, sweetheart, okay? You're gonna be fine,” Marc uttered in horror, warm blood smeared in his hands.

Ambulance! It suddenly crossed Marc's mind. He needed to rush her to the hospital. People had gathered by now, gasping and murmuring in French.

“Qu'est-il arrivé?”

“Putain de Merde!”

“Mon Dieu!”

“Elle est morte.”

“Can somebody please call an ambulance!” Marc yelled frantically. “Appeler une ambulance!” he repeated.

“Marc... Forgive me,” Maddie uttered with difficulty. She choked and blood flowed out of her mouth.

“God, Maddie, no.” He shook his head, tears flooding his eyes.

“I love you. I always will.” Her breath quickened, and he died a million deaths watching her.