"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...