Late autumn, one year later. It was the closing gala of London Design Week.Ryan stood in a quiet corner, clutching a martini that had long since lost its chill. The past year had not been kind to him. The dark circles beneath his eyes and the faint creases in his Savile Row suit gave away his exhaustion.A subtle stir rippled through the crowd as Claire entered, arm-in-arm with Ethan.She wore a minimalist, emerald-green velvet gown — a colour Ryan had always disliked, calling it too "sombre". Yet now, that deep green made her look like a proud pine standing tall in winter: cold, noble, and breathtakingly untouchable.Feeling like a drowning man grasping at straws, Ryan instinctively stepped forward and blocked their path."Claire," he rasped, his voice so hoarse it was almost unrecognisable.Claire stopped. She didn't pretend not to know him, nor did she show even a flicker of resentment. She simply released Ethan's arm with polite grace and gave Ryan a slight nod, her tone as calm a
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