My husband took it upon himself to search for my Parisian “lover” on the internet. It took him all of two minutes to find Thibault, including pictures and video! Apparently, he’s a banking big shot in Paris. Unfortunately, he didn’t outrun the march of time either. I’m a little pissed at my husband for instantly aging the dreamy French god I’ve held in my mind all these years.

Excuse me while I try to find the teacher he had a crush on in the 5th grade. Two can play this game. Bastard.