The car rolls to a gentle stop in front of the cozy little café Evan loves so much—Art Coffee, the place that smells like roasted beans and wet paint, the place he always returns to when he needs warmth.
I step out, the cold air brushing against my cheeks. In my hand, the bouquet and the gift—exactly what Evan ordered secretary Arem to bring. I press the familiar mask onto my face, the quiet, obedient façade I've perfected so well it almost feels like another skin. One deep breath… and I walk inside.
The café is as warm as always, light spilling from the windows, every wall dressed in new paintings. My gaze drifts slowly, searching, until it lands on his painting—the one Evan painted that day.
I stop.
I stand there, staring like a man whose heartbeat has suddenly lost its rhythm.
God… I love him.
Every line, every color he touched.
Everything he leaves behind becomes precious to me.
Soon…
Soon, he'll be mine.
Completely mine.
A familiar voice snaps me out of my trance.
