Pont Neuf

I waited for him at the Pont Neuf under a street lamp. I had spent several hours there looking at the tourists marvel at the magic of this bewitched city, ignoring Place Dauphine to buy locks to seal their love. I hated that tradition, I hated that it had almost claimed the Pont des Arts, and I hated the tourists most of all. Yet, I had chosen that spot for the background irony, a place where people seal their love was the place where I was going to end mine. If that could be called love, that is. 

It was late already, and cold on a weekday. All in all, that never guaranteed that the city would be deserted, but it did give a good chance. I lit a cigarette and stared at the Seine. It had been running high for weeks, to the point that the service on the RER C was interrupted. It was soothingly quiet. He did not take much longer. I had told him it was important and that I would not stand it if he was late again. 

He arrived, as usual, from the Rive Droite. This was something where we crashed, as stupid as it seems, but I have always found that routines help me clear my head and, for me, that meant always passing by Saint Michel. He looked handsome under the street lights. He always did, that's probably why I started dating him in the first place. He wore one of his work suits, those that he had tailored and cost a small fortune. He looked incredible in them, but I never liked the fact that he spent so much money on clothes. He stopped few steps before arriving at where I was standing. 

"You look different tonight. And I had never seen you smoke."

I took a drag from the cigarette leaving lipstick stains on it. I looked dangerous, he meant. I was wearing my new coat, one that I had bought specially for the occasion. Red. Sharp high heels and thighs so thin that I could feel the humidity of the Parisian streets on the skin of my legs. 

"People change." I threw the cigarette towards the river. 

"You said you wanted to talk."

"You are getting boring and annoying." I went straight to the point, I didn't feel like having a long conversation and that was one of the reasons why I was meeting him in the street. 

He got closer, one hand on the parapet. "Are you breaking up with me?"

I almost felt bad for him, his pained expression as if I had taken something vital from him. I laughed. He was so predictable. 

"No, I'm not breaking up with you. If I broke up with you, you'd go and annoy me further or go and find someone else to bore to death."

He stared at me, calculating. 

"Instead, I will do it so you do neither ever again." 

I reached up to kiss him goodbye and he automatically reached down. It was easy to push him over, he had not expected it. He lost footing and fell into the water on his back. He didn't even have time to shout before the current dragged him downriver, much faster than it would have seemed, more dangerous than the surface let see. I stared at him as he fought against the river, helplessly. When I couldn't see him anymore I lit another cigarette and walked towards Place Dauphine, my steps resonating on the cobblestones, leaving the past by the river.