“I want to give you something,” William said suddenly.Evelyn frowned as they walked through the quiet city park, the sky dimming into dusk. A fine mist that had hung in the air since afternoon had finally become rain, gently soaking the leaves and the stone-paved path beneath their feet.William slowly reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a cream-colored envelope, slightly creased at the corner. He held it out to Evelyn.“What is this?” Evelyn asked, eyeing the envelope before accepting it with hesitation.“A letter,” William replied. “A long time ago. I wrote it after you left my life—when we didn’t speak for months. But… I was too afraid to send it.”Evelyn looked at him, searching for signs that this was just another nostalgic gesture. But his eyes were serious—almost fragile. He wasn’t looking for forgiveness. He was offering a part of himself that had never found its way to her before.“Read it when you’re alone,” William said. “Or don’t. If that’s easier.”---Tha
“Do you still like bitter coffee?” William asked as he gently pushed a white porcelain cup toward Evelyn. Thin steam rose from the surface, carrying the familiar aroma of roasted beans.Evelyn looked at the cup for a few seconds before nodding.“I never really liked sweetness.”William gave a small smile and lifted his own cup.They were seated in the corner of an old café that creaked every time someone opened the door. A round wooden table separated them—yet, it was the only boundary, and somehow, a bridge too.Outside, it was raining again in Paris. People passed in a hurry, umbrellas swaying in the wind.“You look calm,” William finally said. “Different from the last time I saw you in Tokyo.”Evelyn shrugged slightly.“Calm doesn’t always mean peaceful. But I’m trying to make peace.”William nodded, leaning back in his chair. His eyes didn’t leave Evelyn’s face—not because he wanted to read her mind, but because it was the one thing that still felt like home.“I want to ask you so
“Evelyn! Step back!”The voice cut through the bustle of the Parisian street that late afternoon. But Evelyn didn’t have time to turn. Her eyes were still glued to her phone screen, rereading the confirmation email for the upcoming art conference in Tokyo next week.The blaring honk of a car finally snapped her out of it—but too late.Someone had already pulled her back. A strong tug, her body jerked backward, crashing into someone’s chest. On the sidewalk, both of them caught their breath, hearts pounding.Evelyn turned.That face. That voice. That breath.“William…?”The man didn’t answer right away. His hand was still on her shoulder, making sure she was okay. His eyes were wild, adrenaline still surging from almost losing her.“Are you out of your mind?” William's voice trembled, nearly breaking. “You could have—almost—”Evelyn snapped back to the moment, slowly stepping away and pressing a hand to her chest, which felt tight and shaken. Around them, people continued walking. The
The Paris sky that morning was veiled in a thin layer of gray clouds. There was no rain, but the air carried a scent—one of a farewell waiting to happen. The car carrying Evelyn and Theo moved slowly through the familiar streets of the city, though this time, everything felt slightly different.Evelyn sat in the back seat, the window half open. Her hair fluttered in the breeze, and she let the cool air brush against her cheeks. In her lap, her passport and flight ticket to New York were neatly folded in a navy-blue folder. This wasn’t an escape, nor a closure. It was… a transition.Theo sat beside her in silence. Not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he knew Evelyn was still sorting through her thoughts.“I packed a small bag of snacks for your flight,” Theo finally said, his voice low but clear.Evelyn smiled, turning to him. “You always treat departures like mountain expeditions.”“Because your heart has always been like the mountains,” he replied. “Beautiful, but it t
“I think… it’s time,” Evelyn murmured as she stared at the email on her laptop screen. She had just received an official invitation from one of the most prestigious art institutions in New York—a major collaboration offer she never imagined would come at this moment.Theo looked up from the small worktable on the other side of their studio, holding two cups of warm tea.“Time for what? To become a legend?” he teased lightly.Evelyn chuckled, though her eyes remained fixed on the screen. She had received countless invitations since her exhibition in Paris, but this one felt different. Not just because of its scale or the institution’s prestige—but because it came at a time when she was no longer chasing validation.“The New York Institute of Contemporary Design,” she said softly. “They want me to be a co-curator and mentor for this year’s fall program.”Theo placed a cup on the table near her, then sat at the edge of the bench facing the window.“When was the last time you didn’t hesit
"I know you're not fond of overly fragrant flowers, so I picked the most neutral ones," said Theo, holding out a small bouquet of white lisianthus and eucalyptus.Evelyn turned, slightly surprised. She had just finished giving her speech at the opening of her first permanent gallery in Paris. A knee-length black dress and simple silver earrings made her appear more refined than ever—a woman who had weathered the storm and now stood in the spotlight not because of her love stories, but because of her art."Thank you," she said, accepting the flowers. Her fingers brushed the coarse linen wrapping—cool to the touch, but warm in meaning."These aren’t flowers to woo you," Theo added with his calm smile, "but to honor a woman who turned grief into design, and fractures into strength."His words silenced Evelyn for a moment.The gallery buzzed with guests. The white marble floors reflected the soft lights deliberately arranged to highlight Evelyn’s pieces. The walls were adorned with instal