Chapter 4 Shadows of Yesterday

The days that followed were supposed to be peaceful.

Eva threw herself into her work, losing hours wandering through Paris with her camera in hand, capturing fleeting moments-a street musician lost in his melody, an elderly couple sharing a quiet moment over wine, the golden glow of the Seine at sunset. She told herself that she was fine. That running into Nathaniel had been nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence.

But the past had a way of lingering, slipping through the cracks she had carefully sealed.

She saw him everywhere now.

At a rooftop restaurant in Le Marais, seated across a table from an older man in a suit, discussing business with the ease of someone who had mastered control. On the steps of the Palais Garnier, walking alongside his sister, Isabelle, their hushed conversation laced with tension. Even in a fleeting glimpse across the river near Pont Alexandre III, his silhouette unmistakable against the backdrop of the city lights.

It was as if Paris itself refused to let her forget.

And deep down, she hated that part of her didn't want to.

A Gathering of Ghosts

A week after their unexpected encounter, Eva found herself at an exclusive gallery event in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The exhibition was hosted by Antoine Laurent, a renowned art curator and a longtime acquaintance.

She had barely stepped inside when she felt a hand brush her elbow.

"Eva," a smooth voice greeted her.

She turned to find Antoine, dressed in a tailored gray suit, his dark hair neatly styled. He was effortlessly charming, his presence commanding attention in the room.

"You made it," he said with a slow smile.

"Of course. You know I can't resist a good exhibition."

Antoine studied her for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "And yet, I sense something different about you tonight."

Eva shook her head, letting out a small laugh. "You always read too much into things."

"I read what's there." He offered her a glass of champagne, and she accepted, allowing him to lead her toward one of the larger displays.

The gallery was filled with Parisian elites-artists, collectors, critics. Eva recognized a few faces but kept to herself, letting Antoine steer the conversation. He spoke about the featured artists, the growing shift in contemporary photography, and his plans for future exhibits.

It was easy to lose herself in the moment-until she felt it.

A presence.

A familiar weight in the air.

She turned her head, and her breath caught.

Nathaniel stood across the room, engaged in quiet conversation with Daniel Moreau, one of his closest associates. He was dressed in a sleek black suit, his posture relaxed yet commanding. Even from a distance, she could see the sharp focus in his eyes, the way he carried himself with unshaken confidence.

But then-he looked at her.

And for a moment, the entire room faded away.

There was no gallery. No exhibition. No guests.

Just him. And her. And the unspoken history stretching between them.

Antoine, sensing the shift in her demeanor, followed her gaze. His lips curved into something resembling amusement.

"Ah," he murmured. "So that's why."

Eva snapped out of her trance. "What?"

Antoine took a sip of his champagne, his eyes flicking back to Nathaniel. "Leclair. I didn't realize you two were... acquainted."

She swallowed. "We're not."

He let out a quiet chuckle. "Could've fooled me."

Nathaniel murmured something to Daniel before excusing himself. He moved with the kind of precision that made Eva's pulse quicken. Within seconds, he was standing before her and Antoine.

"Laurent," Nathaniel greeted smoothly, nodding at Antoine before shifting his gaze to Eva. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Eva tightened her grip on her glass. "You do seem to say that a lot."

Antoine's eyes danced between them, interest flickering across his face. "This is getting interesting."

Nathaniel ignored him. "I need to speak with you," he said to Eva.

She hesitated, but Antoine gave her a teasing nudge. "Don't keep him waiting," he said with a smirk.

Nathaniel led her through the crowd and toward a quieter section of the gallery, away from prying eyes.

When they stopped, she crossed her arms. "What do you want, Nathaniel?"

His gaze was unreadable. "You're avoiding me."

She let out a sharp laugh. "Avoiding you? You think I have the time to go out of my way to avoid you?"

"I don't think. I know."

Eva opened her mouth, but no words came. Because he wasn't wrong.

She had spent days pretending he didn't exist. Pretending their history didn't weigh on her like an anchor.

Nathaniel took a step closer, his voice lower now. "You don't have to run every time we cross paths."

"I'm not running."

He arched a brow. "Really? Then why does it look like you're about to bolt right now?"

Eva exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "This is ridiculous. We don't owe each other anything, Nathaniel. Whatever we were... it's over. It has been for a long time."

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

She took a breath. "Let's just... stay out of each other's way."

For a long moment, he simply looked at her, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then, he gave a slow nod.

"If that's what you want."

It wasn't.

But she couldn't admit that.

Without another word, she turned and walked away, ignoring the heavy feeling settling in her chest.

An Unwanted Reminder

The night was colder than she expected as she stepped out of the gallery, wrapping her arms around herself.

She had nearly made it down the steps when a voice stopped her.

"I never understood why you left."

Her breath hitched.

She turned to find Isabelle Leclair standing nearby, her sharp features softened only slightly by the glow of the streetlights.

Nathaniel's sister had always been an enigma-polished, poised, and fiercely loyal to her family. But there had once been a time when she and Eva had been close.

Too close.

"I didn't leave for no reason," Eva said carefully.

Isabelle tilted her head. "Then what was it?"

Eva swallowed hard.

She could have given her a dozen answers. Could have said that things had become too complicated, that the weight of it all had been too much. But the truth was messier than that.

And some wounds never fully healed.

Instead, she forced a smile. "Some things are better left in the past."

Isabelle studied her for a long moment before sighing. "You should know-Nathaniel isn't the same man he was back then."

Eva hesitated. "Neither am I."

Isabelle's lips twitched. "Then maybe you should stop treating each other like ghosts."

Before Eva could respond, Isabelle turned and walked away, disappearing into the Parisian night.

Eva stood there for a long time, the weight of the conversation pressing against her ribs.

She had spent so long running from the past.

But it seemed the past wasn't done with her just yet.