Chapter 5 Whispers of the past

The rain had started again. A slow drizzle at first, misting the streets of Paris in a silver sheen, before it gradually transformed into something heavier, a rhythmic patter against the rooftops and glass windows. Eva pulled her coat tighter around her, the damp air clinging to her skin as she walked through the narrow streets of Montmartre.

She hadn't meant to come here-not really. But something had drawn her to this part of the city, to the winding cobbled paths that led past small galleries and cafés, to the artists with their easels set up under dim streetlights, sketching hurriedly before the rain washed their canvases clean.

Her fingers curled around the strap of her camera bag, the weight of it grounding her as memories pressed against her mind like an unwelcome tide. Montmartre had always been a place of passion and inspiration for her-a place she had once roamed freely with her camera in hand, capturing the heartbeat of Paris in stolen moments.

And once, it had been their place. Hers and Nate's.

She exhaled sharply, pushing the thought away.

Eva ducked into a quiet café, shaking the water from her hair as she stepped inside. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries greeted her, the soft murmur of conversations filling the space. She found a seat near the window, her eyes drawn to the world outside-the rain-soaked streets, the glow of old-fashioned lamplights, the way Paris seemed to shimmer even in the storm.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her camera, absently adjusting the lens before lifting it to capture the world beyond the glass. It was a habit, second nature now.

"Still hiding behind the lens, I see."

The voice sent a chill down her spine.

She lowered the camera slowly, her fingers tightening around it as she turned. And there he was-Nathaniel Leclair, standing just a few feet away, his tall frame casting a shadow over the table.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The café, the rain, the quiet hum of the city-it all faded into the background as she met his gaze. Those deep, unreadable eyes. The ones that had once held so much warmth, so much love. Now, they held something else.

"You seem to have a habit of appearing when you're least wanted," she said, her voice even, though her heart hammered violently against her ribs.

Nate tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his expression. "And yet, you're still here in Paris."

She set her camera down, leveling him with a look. "That doesn't mean I came here for you."

His lips quirked at the edge, as if she had just confirmed something for him. "No, but you haven't left either."

A slow burn of irritation curled in her stomach. "Why are you here, Nate?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he countered smoothly, sliding into the chair opposite hers without invitation. "But I already know the answer."

She exhaled sharply, her fingers curling into her palm beneath the table. "I have work to do."

His gaze flicked briefly to her camera before returning to her face. "Of course. Still chasing images of fleeting moments?"

Eva felt the sting in his words, the subtle accusation woven into them. "And you? Still buying and selling people's dreams?"

The tension between them thickened, their words laced with old wounds, with memories neither of them wanted to touch.

"You never did understand, did you?" Nate murmured, his voice quieter now, almost introspective.

"Understand what?"

His jaw tensed. "Why I left."

A sharp laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "Oh, I understood perfectly. You chose money, power, and a life without me."

His eyes darkened. "That's what you think?"

She lifted her chin defiantly. "It's what I know."

For a moment, he just watched her, his fingers tapping lightly against the surface of the table. "Eva, there are things you don't know. Things I couldn't tell you back then."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "And let me guess? Now you expect me to listen?"

"I expect you to at least consider that not everything was as it seemed." His voice was firm, but there was something else beneath it-something she couldn't quite name.

She stared at him, searching for the lie, for the manipulation she had come to associate with him. But what she found instead was...uncertainty.

It unsettled her.

"Then say it," she challenged. "Tell me why you left."

His expression was unreadable. "Not here."

Eva narrowed her eyes. "Convenient."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "It's not convenient. It's complicated."

"It always is with you," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, without another word, Nate reached into his pocket and slid something across the table toward her. A business card.

"I'll be at this address tomorrow night," he said. "If you want the truth, meet me there."

Eva glanced down at the card but didn't touch it. When she looked back up, Nate was already standing, his piercing gaze holding hers one last time before he turned and walked away.

The café felt colder without him there, the air heavier.

She looked down again, staring at the card as a war raged inside her.

To go...or not to go?

The answer should have been easy.

But it wasn't.

And that scared her most of all.

That night, sleep eluded her.

Eva sat on the small balcony of her rented apartment, a glass of wine in hand, as she stared out at the rain-drenched city. Her thoughts spun in endless circles, memories from years ago bleeding into the present, muddying everything she thought she knew.

She had spent so long convincing herself that Nate's departure had been simple-just another betrayal, just another lesson in why love was never safe.

But tonight, for the first time in years, doubt crept in.

What if she had been wrong?

What if there was more to the story than she had let herself believe?

The city stretched before her, shimmering beneath the soft glow of streetlights. Somewhere out there, Nate was waiting.

And despite every rational thought screaming at her to forget him, to leave the past buried where it belonged...

She knew she wouldn't.

Because she needed the truth.

Even if it shattered her all over again.