Read Forget for Free Online

gray pain. I’ve just watched a sunset, and then seconds later, the sun rose again—its glorious oranges and yellows highlighting the sky took away the ache nestled inside my chest.
    Even if it’s momentary, I’m thankful for the reprieve.

Dear Me? Dear Nobody? Dear, I don’t know who the hell I’m talking to . . .
    Cheers to the first entry in my journal.
    Millie hoped this would be a cathartic release for me, but I’m skeptical.
    I’m in Paris and four days have passed in a blur. I miss home. I miss Millie. I miss my sister and nephew. Skyping with Ember and Teddy every morning has helped ease my anxiety and homesickness. They’re either just getting home or still closing up at my sister’s boutique in Venice Beach. And I love how Teddy has been dominating our chats with knock-knock jokes. Chatting with Jamie and Lindsay through texts or brief phone chats has also helped.
    I’m happy to report that when I think about Millie, tears prick my eyes only half of the time. I keep imagining what her life was like when she lived here. God, I bet she was a force to be reckoned with back then. No wonder Christophe fell in love with her.
    Being in Paris, all by myself, isn’t such a lonely experience. It’s refreshing in a way. Every day is a new adventure filled with delicious tastes, lively sounds, and vibrant culture.
    I’ve been traveling most destinations by foot, only using the métro to get from one district to the next. Everywhere I look is a new possibility to explore, a new experience to be had. It’s indescribable, the way this city has charmed me. I’m thoroughly seduced by her. The music, the decadent food, the blooming flowers, and the crooked streets lined with exquisite architecture . . . I want to live and breathe it all.
    Audrey Hepburn was right—“Paris is always a good idea.”
    I guess it’s time to discover another side of this gorgeous city.
    Millie, if you’re reading this, I miss you like crazy, and I’m starting to understand why you loved this city so much.
    More later,
    -B
    Irritated, I toss my journal on the nightstand.
    Millie would be disappointed in me. My first entry and all I do is recap my time in Paris. A journal is supposed to be used for your inner thoughts, your true feelings, but I’m a total coward. There is nothing cathartic about writing down the Top Ten Highlights of your day.
    Note to journal users: Try to be stronger than me.
    Instead of berating myself, I promise to do better next time, focusing my brainpower on something else, something way more fun, like Paris.
    Baby steps, Brooke. It’s all about the baby steps.
    I find a cozy spot on the terrace connected to my suite. It’s been my routine to start each day with a cup of espresso, a sugary pastry, and looking throughMillie’s bucket list. There is no order in my approach. I simply pick whichever item tickles my fancy. Today, I plan to accomplish lucky number thirteen.
    12. Visit Gerard Mulot on Rue de Seine. Order one salted caramel macaroon to eat there and take a box of various flavors back to the hotel. Believe me, you won’t be disappointed and you’ll thank me later for the to-go box.
    13. Go to Au Fait in Canal Saint-Martin. It’s an English-inspired pub that has the best Bloody Mary you’ll ever taste. Once you get there, drink at least two, and then ask for Alexandre. He has something for you.
    14. Shop at Chanel on Rue Cambon and don’t leave without a bottle of perfume.
    I smile after reading numbers twelve and fourteen. The macaroons were the single best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. And shopping at the original Chanel store, the so-called mothership, was downright insane. I’ve never considered myself a fashionista, but the mirrored staircase and iconic pictures inside the boutique would make any girl giddy. Since my style revolves around bohemian chic, I didn’t plan on buying anything besides perfume. But I stayed spontaneous, ignoring price tags and my nagging habit of choosing