All Chapters of One Year With Mr.Kingland: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The gallery was alive with soft lighting and quiet conversation. Selena stood in front of a large-scale city model, a genuine laugh escaping her lips as Alexander pointed at one of the ridiculous structural choices.“You architects are terrifying,” he said, grinning. “You look at empty land and immediately start imagining things that don’t exist yet.”Selena tilted her head, still smiling. “That’s called vision.”“No,” Alexander replied, watching her with quiet amusement. “That’s called hope.”A waiter passed carrying champagne flutes. Alexander took two from the tray and handed her one. Selena accepted it with a small smile. “You know,” he said, glancing toward the massive waterfront model behind them, “Matthew would hate this entire design.” She laughed softly. “Because it’s expensive?” “Because it kind of carries something emotional.” “Buildings can be emotional?” Alexander looked around the gallery slowly. “The good ones are.” Her smile faded just slightly at that. Maybe b

Selena’s phone lit up on the coffee table.She was sitting on the floor of the library, back against the couch, surrounded by half-finished sketches and empty coffee cups. The rain tapped steadily against the tall windows. The mansion felt too big and too quiet around her.**Alexander:** Tell me you’re not still working.She smiled before she could stop herself and typed back.**Selena:** Some people actually work for a living.**Alexander:** Rude.**Selena:** True.**Alexander:** Normal people sleep, you know.**Selena:** Normal people also don’t redesign hotel structures for fun at 1 a.m.**Alexander:** There it is.**Selena:** What?**Alexander:** You sound happier when you talk about architecture.She stared at the message for a long second. Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. The simple observation landed somewhere soft and unguarded inside her chest.**Selena:** Maybe I am.The three dots appeared, disappeared, then appeared again.**Alexander:** You deserve rooms with sunlight

The art exhibition had been stressful . Three hours of walking through galleries filled with installations that made Selena forget about the mansion, Matthew, about the distance she had been maintaining. She'd forgotten her phone at the penthouse. It was a small thing, but it meant she had to go back before meeting Alexander for dinner. The elevator ride up was quiet. Soft jazz played through the speakers. Selena was still thinking about one of the pieces—a series of mirrors reflecting distorted versions of the viewer. How it made you realize how different you looked depending on the angle and on who was looking. She used her key code to enter the penthouse suite. The lights were dimmed. There was a jacket thrown over the back of the sofa—Matthew's. And Victoria's heels, discarded carelessly by the entrance like she owned the space. Selena's stomach tightened, but her face didn't change. She could hear them. Low sounds from the bedroom—Victoria's laugh, a gasp and moans. Matthe

The penthouse felt different when you weren't pretending it was just a temporary place to avoid thinking.Matthew sat on the edge of the bed—Victoria's bed, still smelling like her perfume and his own failure—and stared at his phone. The screen was dark. He'd turned it off about an hour ago because Victoria kept calling, and he didn't have the energy to answer the same question in different ways.He had slept maybe two hours. The whiskey had worn off around 4 AM, which meant he'd spent the last four hours sober and aware of exactly what he'd done.The city sprawled beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows like an accusation. All those people living lives that didn't revolve around making mistakes and then paying for them.He finally turned his phone back on.Forty-three missed calls. Thirty-one from Victoria. Twelve from Richard Thompson (his attorney, probably panicking about something). Nothing from Selena. He hadn't actually expected anything from Selena, but the absence of her name sti

The guest house had good light. That was the first thing Selena noticed when she decided to convert the small cottage—originally designed for family visitors who never came—into her own studio. The windows faced east, which meant morning sun without the harsh afternoon glare that would wash out colors. There was a long wall perfect for pinning designs. The kitchen could become a small meeting space. It was exactly the right size for someone building something real. She didn't ask Matthew for permission. She called a contractor, had them assess the space, and three days later, construction began. New electrical outlets, proper lighting rigs, climate control for the design materials. By the end of the first week, she had a studio. Matthew noticed. She could tell by the way he'd pause when walking past the guest house, watching the progress through the windows. But he didn't say anything. And she didn't explain. The online course launched on a Tuesday. Selena had spent two months de