"It's good to see you again, Eva," he murmured, his breath grazing the shell of her ear.
She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze over the rim of her sunglasses. "You too," she said softly. She slid into the booth opposite him, tugging her hoodie tighter around her shoulders. "How have you been? I've been following your work from Paris. They love you there."
"Girl! They love me everywhere!" Brian declared, flicking his wrist in a mock diva wave.
Eva laughed under her breath. "Of course they do," she murmured, reaching for the steaming cappuccino that had just been set down. "I'm surprised France hasn't offered you citizenship."
"Oh, they tried," he quipped, fanning himself dramatically.
She reached across the table, her hand brushing his. "Thank you for doing this, Brian. I can't thank you enough. From the moment you saved me at that award ceremony, you've been my anchor."
He turned his hand to clasp hers fully, his thumb tracing small circles over her skin. "There's nothing to it," he said gently. "You're a phoenix, Eva. They tried to burn you down, but look at you—still glowing, still impossible to forget."
"So," Eva said after a moment. "You said you got an update on Leo?"
Brian straightened. His hand slipped from hers with one last squeeze before he leaned back against the booth. "Ah… yes. It came out of nowhere actually. Middle of the night, I get this call. Said if I knew how to contact you, I should leave a voicemail on the number he called from."
Eva's brow furrowed, the shadow of exhaustion deepening around her eyes. "That's it?" she asked. Hope was a dangerous drug—one she'd sworn off long ago, yet one she kept relapsing on every time Leo's name surfaced.
Brian nodded grimly, tapping his phone against the table. "I ran it through every backdoor system I could. It's a burner."
She exhaled a shaky laugh, rubbing her temples. "Still… it's the first lead in years, Brian. I'll take it. Hell, I'd follow a breadcrumb into a damn war zone if I thought he might be there…So I heard Daniel got married."
"Is that all you heard?"
Eva sighed dramatically. "Oh, Brian. I am not that petty. He can marry whoever he wants."
Brian's brow arched above his sunglasses, his disbelief a theatrical masterpiece. "Even if she's your best friend?"
"Even if she was my best friend," Eva corrected coolly. "I was wondering why she stopped picking my calls…"
"You know," he said, stirring his latte, "it's honestly infuriating to gossip with an emotionally mature person. I was ready to sit here and unleash my award-winning 'that bitch!' monologue."
"Daniel became fair game after the divorce," she murmured. "It is what it is." She shrugged.
"Fine. Be evolved and gracious," he said, rolling his eyes heavenward. "But for the record, if I ever run into her, I'm 'accidentally' spilling red wine on her blouse."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Eva murmured, a faint, brittle smile tugging at her lips. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, careful to keep the gesture casual.
"So… are you staying with me, or are you hitting a hotel?"
Eva shook her head, stirring her coffee absentmindedly as if the motion could anchor her thoughts. "No… I'll just stay at the house."
"The one you got after the divorce? Are you sure? I mean… the memories. That house—will you be okay? I can stay with you. I don't mind."
"I'll be fine," she said gently. "I need the memories. They're like… fragments of a world I'm starting to forget." She pressed her fingertips against her forehead for a brief moment before continuing.
"I used to remember every detail of his face. The little swirl in his hair. The dimple when he sucked on his lower lip. But now… now I'm scared I'll mistake another boy for him and convince myself it's Leo."
He reached across the table, covering her hand with his, thumb brushing over the back in small, deliberate circles. "Eva…"
She shook her head, eyes unfocused. "I wonder what he looks like now," she whispered. "Or—God—if he's even still alive." Her exhale trembled, a small gust of despair.
"Stop talking like that," he said. "Come on! He's fine. I promise. And I'm sure he's in the hands of someone… nice." He tried to smile, tapping his fingers nervously against the wood.
Even Brian, with all his charm and bravado, couldn't hide the flicker of doubt in his eyes. His forced cheer was a thin veil over a worry he couldn't shake.
*****
Standing before the door, keys trembling in her hand, she felt the past coil around her.
She turned the key, the metallic click sharp and final in the heavy silence. One step inside, and the tears came, sliding down her cheeks before she could blink them away. The living room was untouched, staged in a perfection that mocked the chaos of memory.
This house was a museum of what had been, of everything she could no longer claim, and of the future that had been ripped away.
Her fingers trailed over the edge of the hallway mirror, the cool surface pressing against her skin. She saw herself reflected there—a woman hollowed by loss, trembling with a fragile hope that her son might still be out there, waiting for her.
Then she remembered the day they bought the house.
She was barely unpacked when she found out she was pregnant. They danced barefoot in the empty living room, toes skidding over cardboard and bubble wrap, laughing. Daniel had lifted her in the middle of the floor, spinning her until she gasped from dizziness, and then, steadying her against his chest, whispered,
"We're going to be parents." She had pressed her face to his shoulder, breathing him in, memorizing him, memorizing the moment.
And then… someone, somewhere, decided that wasn't allowed.
In one brutal, merciless night, it all came crashing down. She lost her husband, the man who had anchored her to joy; her reputation, painstakingly built over years of sleepless nights and broken compromises; and her son, the heartbeat she carried even when he wasn't in her arms.
If she had even an ounce of foresight—consulted a psychic, read a warning in the stars—she would have made different choices. She would have protected Leo, no matter the cost.