"There’s a light rain in Paris today. The wind from the river is pretty strong. Almost knocked a few paintings off the wall at the gallery,"

William wrote.

Evelyn looked at her phone screen and smiled softly. She typed her reply.

> “You’ve always been romantic about the weather.”

William’s reply came quickly.

> “Maybe I’m just looking for reasons to keep asking how you’re doing.”

---

Lately, the days had felt lighter. Not because the pain had completely healed, but because Evelyn had stopped rejecting it. She had started to accept that pain and memory were parts of her—not enemies to be defeated.

Her conversations with William never touched...