Just back from Bali. It was a brilliant holiday. Yes, of course it sometimes clashes with your ex. After all, there is a reason we split up. And three weeks in each other's vicinity, is quite a lot. Oh well, a fight always clears the air. And sometimes other tensions too... Usually I don't look forward to traveling back, but this time it was different. After 3 weeks it really was time to get back. My ex was flying straight to Amsterdam. But I was flying to Paris first, for the half-yearly Salon de la Lingerie, thé trade fair where the lingerie industry gets together, catch up with each other and show their new collections. Next to this one, there is also the INterfelliere, the new fabrics trade fair. In other words, Paris is at least on my agenda twice a year.

But this time, there was something else too: 'They' would be there. They would be in Paris too. Of course, not completely coincidental, but we had a great excuse: Me, the lingerie trade fair. They, Maison Objet.

The alarm clock went off at 5 AM, followed by a long cab-ride to get to Bali Airport. Thankfully all went well. There was a little concern there, whether the flight was actually still on, as it was storming in the West of Europe. That would've been a bit of a bummer... but fortunately it only was a 'what if'....

Boarding-time! Despite the 12-hour flight, I was really excited! On my way to a new adventure. My ex however, was a little moany, he wasn't looking forward to getting back to work. In a supportive way, I complained along with him, but little did he know... He apparently wasn't done and was still stuck in his complaining-modus, because his next subject to moan about, were the Air France stewardesses. They were not particularly 'eye-candy'. I actually can't disagree with him. I remarked that on the other hand, the steward was quite a looker. And he had to agree on that one. Anyway, probably gay, so we dived right back in our reading material.

The steward came by a little later for drinks. I had to know for sure, gay or straight? I looked at him just a little too long, with a smile that was just a little too much like a big grin. I think my eyes spoke volumes as well. In response he placed his hand on my shoulder. Hmmm. This feels quite hetero to me? Out of the blue, my ex remarked; "I think it's mutual?" So the vibe must have been quite clear. When the steward came by for the next 'beverage'-round and when he complimented my ex on his beautiful wife, it was crystal to both of us. My ex was humble enough to explain that we were not together, and the blushing face of the steward was quite the little gift. Lots of glances followed. Such a delightful flight! Those twelve hours literally flew by... suddenly I couldn't see him anymore. So, this must have been his 'sleep-time'. I couldn't suppress the naughty thought to crawl into bed right next to him. In the aviation world this really is a mortal sin, so the thought was enough...And this gave me the chance to catch up on some sleep too. I woke during the landing. A familiar warm hand was resting on my shoulder: Could I please fasten my seatbelt? With pleasure. The twinkle in our eyes betrayed our real thoughts, but we remained well behaved. Incredibly slow I fastened my seatbelt. Just a little too tight.

Touchdown. I grabbed my things and headed for the exit. As expected, and secretly hoped, he was there to thank the passengers and to wish them a save journey home. I again got a lovely warm hand from him, with contents. His number.

My ex laughed with amusement. And? He asks. What are you going to do? When does your colleague arrive? Well, that's the thing. My colleague will officially arrive on Sunday, from Amsterdam. But my ex thinks she will be arriving tomorrow already. So, I am sticking to that story. So tonight, you'll be free and in Paris? Uhhhm yes. Who knows! He continues: I can't imagine it after such a long flight, getting up early and considering our jetlag. I agree. It really is madness. But the real crazy thing is: It's not possible to rest up. Because I will see THEM tonight... Oh, if only my ex knew. And if only the steward knew who he gave his number to...

To be continued.


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