"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...