Time moved quietly. Days became months. Months folded into a year.
Both Curtis and Allie had drifted into their own worlds — separate yet somehow still in orbit, their lives beating to the same invisible rhythm. Each, unknowingly, carrying a piece of the other.
By now, Curtis Harper had everything most people only dreamed of. Financial freedom. Reputation. The kind of success that turned heads and drew handshakes.
He'd been set for life long before he even realized it. A stacked portfolio, solid investments — he could have retired tomorrow and lived comfortably for decades.
So when he handed in his resignation at KAIA, his colleagues were shocked but not surprised.The office buzzed with rumors, questions, and quiet goodbyes.
"Are you sure you're ready to leave the game, Harper?" Mr. Rodgers asked with a wistful grin, shaking his hand.
Curtis smiled. "I'm not leaving the game. Just… changing the rules."
Mr. Rodgers nodded approvingly. "You'll always have a desk here, if you ever miss the chaos."
Even Nadine, ever-poised and collected, stopped by to wish him well."I hope you find what you're looking for, Curtis," she said softly, her tone free of bitterness.
He thanked her sincerely. They both knew that chapter had closed. Curtis poured himself into something smaller, simpler — a boutique financial management and investment advisory firm, run out of a cozy brick building near the park.He took on only a handful of clients — enough to keep him busy, not enough to lose himself again. His days found new rhythm. Early morning walks with his golden retriever, Milo. Afternoons spent playing golf with Jonah, who was now dating someone new and annoyingly in love. Evenings at home, cooking for one, jazz humming softly from a record player.
The old Curtis — the one obsessed with perfection and control — would've hated the stillness. But this Curtis welcomed it.
Because within that quiet, he felt her. Her laughter in the clink of coffee cups. Her energy in the warmth of strangers' smiles. Her memory stitched into his every small act of kindness.
She had changed him in ways she'd never know.
He now said thank you more often.He looked people in the eye.He allowed himself to make mistakes — to laugh at them, even.
It wasn't anything she'd told him to do.It was simply who she was — and who he'd become because of her. Sometimes, he'd stop by Coppa, sitting at their old table by the window, his crossword untouched, just watching the city move. Other days, he'd volunteer at the senior center or join local fundraisers. Little things that made him feel connected — to life, to people, to her.
At night, when the world quieted, he still thought of her.
What would've happened if he'd woken up before she left? If he'd asked about her family? Her favorite color? Her fears?
He replayed it all — every moment, every choice. If only he'd known why she needed the money. If only he'd tried harder to understand.
He never judged her. Not for a second. He only wished he'd told her that.
And so, even as he built a new life, her memory stayed — not as a wound anymore, but as a whisper. A part of him still hoped that one day, somehow, fate would bring her back.
And if it ever did — he wouldn't run. He'd ask her everything he never did. And this time, he'd hold on.
Across the ocean, in the city of lights and rhythm — Tokyo — Allie Kelley was thriving.
Her world had expanded beyond anything she'd imagined.
At Rouge, she had climbed the ranks with astonishing speed — from a behind-the-scenes coordinator to the General Manager. Her innovative ideas and fearless approach had transformed the club into one of Tokyo's most exclusive entertainment landmarks.
Rouge shimmered under her leadership — a blend of modern luxury and artistic soul. Every event was flawless, every client satisfied. And behind every success story, there she was — confident, composed, radiant.
Her name began circulating in hospitality circles. Local magazines called her the young visionary behind Rouge's golden era.
When people praised her brilliance, she'd smile humbly. But in her heart, she knew where it had started — with him.
Curtis Harper.
She still remembered the nights she'd ask him the silliest business questions, and he'd patiently explain the logic behind every answer. She'd applied those lessons here — his words echoing in her mind each time she faced a challenge.
She'd laugh at herself sometimes. Guess you're still teaching me, Harper. Kazuki was still around — still the playful neighbor, still finding excuses to stop by with new songs or snacks. He'd never given up trying to win her over, though now it was more teasing than pursuit. They'd grown into genuine friends, almost like siblings.
"Allie-chan, you work too much," he'd say, flopping onto her couch uninvited.
"And you talk too much," she'd reply, throwing a cushion at him.
They balanced each other in a strange, comfortable way.
Her circle of friends had grown too — artists, managers, and musicians she'd met through Rouge. But even in a crowded room, a quiet emptiness lingered inside her.
Sometimes, late at night, she'd sit on her patio, Tokyo glowing beneath her, and think of home — of her mother's laughter, Raffi's jokes, Clarisse's voice over the phone.Her mom was finally cancer-free. Raffi was about to graduate. Clarisse was still the same — warm, chaotic, lovable.
Life was good. But part of her heart still felt… unfinished. There were nights she'd allow herself to wonder.What if she hadn't run that night?What if she'd stayed and listened instead of reacting out of fear?
She regretted it deeply now — not the choice to leave, but the silence that came after.
She'd been so afraid of love, of dependence, of repeating the same pain her father left behind. And yet, somehow, she'd ended up hurting the only man who made her feel safe enough to trust again. She still loved him. More than the pain. More than the distance.
Even if she would never see him again, he'd carved his place inside her — the part that believed in hope, in second chances, in healing.
She often wondered if he'd changed, if he was happy. Did he ever think of her the way she still thought of him?
Then she'd shake the thought away and return to her work, convincing herself it was better this way. He was a chapter closed. A beautiful one, but closed.
Or so she told herself.
Rouge's fame exploded. It became a cultural hotspot — featured in travel magazines and international press.
Allie's face, poised and confident, appeared alongside the article titles: "The Visionary Woman Behind Tokyo's Most Exclusive Club."
She barely thought about it, assuming the features were local. She didn't know that one of those glossy pages — with her photo smiling beside the Rouge logo — would soon cross an ocean, land on a mahogany desk in Manhattan…
…and catch the eye of a man who'd been waiting for a sign all along.
After all this time, fate it seemed, was finally ready to play its next card.