“Why has my husband grown so cold? Why doesn’t he even care about me anymore?”
Evelyn Stone stared blankly out the living room window as a light rain trickled down the glass. Her mind was in turmoil, her heart filled with questions. Julian used to come home with a smile and a warm hug. But now… even the familiar sound of his key turning in the door had vanished from her life. Three years. Three years of marriage she once believed was perfect—now reduced to a torturous riddle. She sat at the edge of the sofa, a cup of untouched tea in her hands. Her fingers trembled as she reached for her phone. More than ten times she had tried to call her husband today. But as always—no answer. “Is there another woman who’s made him forget about our marriage?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes began to well up. Dark thoughts haunted her. She tried to shake them off, but reality stung like salt in an open wound. Unanswered messages. Silent nights. These weren’t just coincidences. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening shattered the silence. Evelyn jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. “Julian!” she cried. A tall man in a rain-drenched black coat stood motionless in the doorway. His face was cold. No smile. No longing. Just a lifeless stare that pierced her soul. Evelyn rushed forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I missed you so much, Julian.” But his body didn’t respond to her embrace. Within seconds, Julian pushed her away. Harshly. Without hesitation. “I want a divorce, Evelyn,” he said flatly. Thud. It felt as though the earth split open beneath her feet. “W-what?” Evelyn stepped back. Her breath caught in her throat. “Divorce? Why so suddenly? Just yesterday, you told me you loved me. That I was the only one who could make your heart truly happy.” Julian stared at her with eyes void of emotion. The warmth from before was gone. “I was wrong. You’re not the woman I want. I made a mistake marrying you. You’re not the one I’ve been searching for.” “What do you mean?” Evelyn’s voice shook. “Why are you saying this?” Julian turned and began walking toward the stairs. But before he could go further, he called out. “Selena, come in!” Evelyn spun around—and in that moment, a woman in a tight red dress sauntered into the room with a smug smile. Without shame, she clung to Julian’s arm like she belonged there. “Baby… I’m freezing,” Selena purred seductively. Julian smiled at her. “You’ll be warm soon enough.” Crash! The teacup slipped from Evelyn’s hand and shattered on the floor. But the pain in her chest was far sharper than any piece of broken porcelain. “You… you have another woman?” Her voice was barely more than a breath. Julian nodded. “Yes. She’s the woman I’ve been looking for. Her father is a man who’s helped me more than anyone else. I’ve been searching for her for years… and unfortunately, I married the wrong woman in the process.” Selena laughed haughtily. “Honey, why are you being so cruel to her? Look—she’s trembling.” Evelyn stepped forward, eyes locked on the woman before her. “You knew he was married, and you still walked into our home?” Selena sneered. “Our home? Oh, sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself. This place doesn’t belong to you anymore.” Julian added coldly, “Evelyn, I’ve already prepared the divorce papers. Just sign them. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Evelyn clenched her fists. “After everything… after I stood by you, helped you rise, supported you through your worst days… this is how you repay me?” Julian said nothing. His expression remained blank. Tears began to fall down Evelyn’s cheeks. But she refused to break—not in front of the two people who had shattered her dignity. “You know something?” Evelyn’s voice was soft but sharp. “You might think you’ve won because you’ve found your ‘perfect woman.’ But one day, when you realize that love isn’t about status or inheritance… that day will be the worst day of your life.” Julian turned to her with a sneer. “You’re being too dramatic.” “And you’re a coward,” Evelyn snapped back. Selena tugged on Julian’s arm. “Let’s go, darling. I’m bored. Let her cry by herself.” Julian nodded. Without another word, he took Selena’s hand and walked out of the house—the home he once shared with Evelyn. She stood frozen. The sound of their footsteps growing distant made her heart feel even emptier. Evelyn stared at the closed door, then turned to the mirror in the living room. Her hair was a mess, her eyes swollen. But beneath all that pain… a fire slowly lit within her. “I’ll make you both regret this.”That morning in Paris, the sky was a pale blue. The sunlight filtered through the windows of Evelyn’s new gallery, softly reflecting off the glass walls and light gray marble. The sound of footsteps echoed quietly through the rooms, now filled with works of art, most of them centered around the theme of "the journey home"—to oneself, to hope, to the courage to love.Evelyn stood in the center of the main exhibition hall. A simple white dress wrapped her body, her hair casually pinned up. She stared at one of the large pieces she had titled "The Step Home", an abstract painting of textures made from layers of earth, water, and fragments of dark blue that evaporated into light."Why has your work become softer lately?" a voice came from behind.Evelyn turned and smiled. William stood there, wearing a light gray suit and a thin scarf around his neck."Because I've finally stopped painting from the wounds," Evelyn replied quietly. "I’ve started painting from peace."William walked closer
"This chair is still about to break," William muttered, tapping the creaky wooden armrest.Evelyn chuckled softly, sitting beside him on the balcony of their old apartment, now empty. The only light came from the moon filtering through the open curtains, casting a gentle glow on the dusty floor and peeling walls."I always loved sitting here," Evelyn said as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the wind gently brushing past them. "Back then, whenever the world felt too heavy, this balcony became our quiet escape."William glanced at her."And sometimes the place where we argued too.""Especially when you claimed your espresso was better than my tea," Evelyn replied with a teasing smile.The Parisian night air was soft, carrying the scent of recent rain. In the distance, the city traffic hummed like a lullaby. Above them, a rare spread of stars glimmered faintly—seldom seen in the city, but tonight it felt as if the universe itself had made room.The apartment was being cl
"Are you sure you want to use this color?" Evelyn pointed at the half-finished painting displayed in the center of the gallery. Faded blue and muted gold stood out among the otherwise warm palette.William, holding a brush, turned and raised an eyebrow."Blue is the wound. Gold is the healing. We're talking about reconstruction, aren’t we? We have to be brave enough to place the wound at the center."Evelyn paused for a moment, then nodded."You're right. You’ve finally learned art well."William gave a crooked smile."I learned from the best."They were inside a contemporary art hall on the outskirts of Paris, the venue for a charity exhibition titled “Reconstruction and Forgiveness.” The event was initiated by an international art foundation to raise funds for a floating gallery for victims of natural disasters. Evelyn had been appointed as creative director—and, surprisingly, she suggested William’s name as co-curator.Though many were shocked by their collaboration, no one could d
"I want you to hear this not as someone who loves me, but as someone I once hurt," Evelyn said quietly, her eyes fixed on the cup of tea cooling in front of her.They were sitting in a small garden behind the gallery where they'd spent the afternoon. The Paris air was overcast but warm, as if the city itself understood that this conversation wasn’t an ordinary one. Sparrows flew low between the trees, and the wind carried whispers that sounded almost like prayers.William simply nodded, giving space. No pressure. No interruptions."I once chose to walk away... not because I didn’t love you. But because I thought loving meant letting go," Evelyn continued, her raspy voice nearly swallowed by the breeze. "And when Haruki came along, I didn’t know whether I was trying to heal… or just erase your traces."William watched her silently. There was no anger, only a sadness long settled—like ripples on a lake long after the stone has sunk."I’ll never forgive myself for letting Haruki get so c
"You're still walking too fast," William muttered, half-jogging to catch up with Evelyn along the narrow sidewalk.Evelyn turned her head, half-smiling. "You were the one who invited me, and now you're falling behind."The Parisian sky that afternoon was gray but dry. A cool breeze slipped through the falling leaves. They stopped in front of an old building with large windows and a classic wooden door.Evelyn paused, her gaze falling on the small sign above the door: Galerie Lumière."This place..." she whispered, the words catching on a memory that pressed sharply against her chest.William nodded. "My first exhibition. And… the first time I realized that art means nothing if I can't share it with someone."Evelyn stepped inside slowly. The gallery was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of shoes against wooden floors and the glow of warm hanging lights.There were no visitors. William had arranged for a private viewing, just for the two of them.On the walls hung photos from yea
“The direction to the exhibition earlier… we passed this street, right?”William’s voice held a trace of uncertainty as they walked along a narrow cobblestone path on the outskirts of Paris. The rain was light, not heavy, but enough to overwhelm Evelyn’s small umbrella as droplets began to slip through her hair and the edge of her jacket.Evelyn sighed, glancing around. No taxis. No phone signal.“We’re… lost, aren’t we?” she asked calmly, though her tone carried a hint of tired laughter.William turned to her and chuckled. “Lost—in the most literal and cinematic sense.”The rain fell harder. The narrow street shimmered, and the old hanging lamps between buildings cast shadows that made the scene feel like a noir film—unscripted, moody, real.Evelyn moved closer, trying to fit under William’s umbrella as hers had already been ruined by the wind.“Do you still wander aimlessly like this?” she asked, eyes on the wet stones beneath their feet.William took a beat before replying, “No. Th