---- Chapter 21 Months turned into a year. The news of Bennett Randolph giving up his empire was a nine-day wonder in the financial world, then faded. Kelsey heard about it from Sophie, who had read it in an old business journal. "Can you believe it?" Sophie had said, her eyes wide. "He gave it all up." Kelsey felt a flicker of surprise, nothing more. It felt like reading about a stranger. The man she had been married to, the life she had lived, it all belonged to another lifetime. She had mourned that life, and now she was done. What he did with the ashes was his business, not hers. She was busy. Her little gallery in Le Marais was flourishing. She had a knack for discovering new talent, for nurturing artists who had been overlooked. Her life was full, her days measured in the scent of oil paint and the joy of a successful opening. Her relationship with Judd had grown slowly, organically. It was built on a foundation of shared laughter, late-night talks, and mutual respect. He never pushed, never demanded. He was just... there. A steady, warm presence in her new life. One evening, after a particularly successful gallery event, she found him on the small balcony of her apartment, strumming ---- his guitar. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "| have to tell you something," she said, her voice quiet. He stopped playing and turned to face her. "I'm all ears." She told him everything. About Bennett, about Aria, about the lies and the betrayal. She laid bare the ugly, painful story of her past, expecting him to be shocked, maybe even repulsed. He just listened, his expression calm and steady. When she was finished, her voice choked with the last of the old tears, he simply took her hand. "He was a fool," Judd said, his voice firm. "A weak, selfish man who didn't deserve you. None of that was your fault, Kelsey. You know that, right?" A knot she hadn't even realized she was carrying, a tight, hard knot of shame and self-blame, finally loosened. She felt a wave of warmth, of relief, so profound it was like coming up for air after being held underwater for a very long time. "Thank you," she whispered. She leaned into him, and a smile, real and radiant, touched her lips. "So," he said, a playful glint returning to his eye. "| was thinking. There's this old black-and-white movie playing at the Cinémathéque tomorrow. You, me, and a giant bag of popcorn. ---- What do you say?" She felt a blush rise to her cheeks. It had been a running joke between them. His love for old movies, her protest that she was a "serious art person." "| don't know," she teased. "Is it in French? Will | have to read subtitles?" 4 He laughed, pulling her closer. His proximity still made her heart do a little flip, a pleasant, fluttering sensation she was just getting used to. She tried to pull away, to keep up the pretense of their casual friendship, but he held her fast. "Is that a yes or a no, Jensen?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "It's a maybe," she said, her voice a little breathless. He finally let her go, a satisfied smirk on his face. They walked back inside, shoulder to shoulder. The late summer night felt endless, full of a quiet, promising magic. The painful memories of her past were fading, replaced by the simple, profound joy of the present. A new life. A new purpose. And maybe, just maybe, a new love. Judd was a constant, steady presence, a quiet melody in the new symphony of her life. And Kelsey found herself, for the first time in a very long time, looking forward to whatever ---- came next.