Too Late to Translate Me

My girlfriend, Caroline, was a linguistic prodigy fluent in eight languages. I, on the other hand, was a complete dud when it came to foreign tongues.

Everyone in her academic circle thought we were a mismatch. But in our early days, she used to smile, ruffle my hair, and tell me my clumsy attempts to pronounce her favorite French words were the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

Then, her senior from graduate school, Oliver, returned to the States after a long stint in Paris.

At dinner, when she and Oliver started discussing a new French translation, their banter was so seamless, their pauses…