My Lie

I lied. Today I made up a story about loving a man back in Boston. Forgive me, but I think it was a better option than trying to turn the sketchy French man down. It started out as an innocent conversation. Sitting in the Jardin de Luxembourg, he asked me the time and I politely told him wrongly-- forgetting to use military time. He asked where I was from and we briefly chatted. Then he asked me if I was in love. I emphatically said, "YES!" He asked me if I had ever cheated on my love and I said, "no." He suggested that my "love" had been with other women. I said, "No. He would never!" After asking one more time if I cheat, he realized this blonde Americaine was not going to give him what he wanted, he rudely walked away saying nothing. I find myself thankful for the lie-- what if I had told him the truth?!