Chapter 246

• The evening after the unveiling felt almost sacred. I left the crowd behind, leaving the applause and congratulations floating in another world, and followed Julian to the riverbank. The city’s hum faded behind us, replaced by the soft murmur of water moving over stones and the distant cries of birds settling for night.
• He had spread a blanket near the water, simple, unpretentious, yet intentional in every detail. A small picnic lay before us—bread, cheese, fruit—and I realized how much care he had put into it. Nothing about it screamed grandeur or spectacle; it was a space built just for us, and that thought filled me with quiet warmth.
• I sank onto the blanket beside him, letting the softness beneath me cradle tired muscles. The water reflected the sunset in shifting golds and pinks, and for a moment, I felt untethered from the past, untangled from the years of tension and shadow. Julian handed me a cup of tea, the steam curling in lazy spirals.