Chapter 9
+ 5 Points
I laughed–truly laughed. Not out of politeness or nerves, but from a place of genuine amusement. It was the kind of laugh that shook my shoulders and made the bouquet in my hands tremble. The man standing by the chapel’s archway looked entertained.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, grinning.
“Me,” I said through my laughter. “You. This whole situation.”
He stepped closer, hands resting in his pockets. “So… is that a yes?”
I shook my head, smiling. “No. Absolutely not.”
His brow lifted. “No?”
“I’m fine on my own,” I said with a calm smile. “I’ve spent most of my life looking after
Chapter 9
+ 5 Points
others. I never got the chance to just be selfish, to explore, to enjoy being young and free. So now… I want that. On my own.”
“Sounds like a speech you’ve practiced a few times.”
“Maybe” I admitted with a shrug. “But it’s still the truth.”
He tilted his head. “So you’re married?”
“Divorced,” I corrected. “Recently. After twenty years of being loyal. Of staying quiet. And in the end, I was left with nothing.”
He studied me for a second. “And now you don’t want to fall in love again?”
“No,” I answered firmly. “I don’t need it. I’m not even sure I believe in it anymore.”
“That’s a shame,” he said, voice softening. “Because you feel like the right person for me.”
I turned to really look at him. There was something disarming about him–maybe the way his grin never overshadowed the gentleness in his eyes. He was playful, but not mocking. Curious, but not forceful.
“You always say that to women walking down the aisle alone?”
He laughed. “Just once. Today. To you.”
I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Well, that makes me feel special.”
“You are,” he said without hesitation.‘
We walked, aimless but in sync, until we ended up near a park. The breeze danced through the trees, and we found a bench by a flowerbed. We sat like old friends, not strangers who’d met less than fifteen minutes ago. Conversation flowed naturally. We joked about the weather, the food, and how ridiculous it was to marry yourself.
“You know,” he said as I took a sip of water, “you’re surprisingly fun for someone who just turned me down at the altar.”
“I didn’t reject you” I replied. “I declined gracefully!”
“Oh, right, he teased. “Huge difference.”
We sat in a comfortable silence, watching a laughing couple ride past on bicycles.
“I feel like I know you,” I said suddenly, narrowing my eyes.
“You think we’ve met before?”
“I’m not sure… maybe.” I studied his face. “There’s just something familiar about you.”
He looked back at me, equally curious. “Strange how we’ve talked all this time and never even shared names.”
I blinked. He was right.
“Well then. I’m Penelope.”
“Julian,” he said with a smile.
The name triggered something in my memory, like a light switch flipping on. I stared at him.
“Wait a second…” I leaned in, trying to focus. “Julian… Wilde?”
His grin widened. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
I gasped. “You’re Julian Wilde? Valedictorian Julian? Genius Julian?”
“The one and only!”
“Oh my God,” I said, covering my mouth. “You were top of our batch. People swore you memorized every textbook.”
“I didn’t,” he said with a chuckle. “But yeah, that was me.”
“You were a year ahead of me!”
“And you were hard to miss,” he said, his voice softer. “Everyone knew Penelope. The girl who won that national design contest. Your sketches were on the hallway bulletin board for months.”
I smiled at the memory, distant and dreamlike. “Wow… I haven’t heard anyone mention that in years.”
“I always wondered what happened to you” he said. “You were destined for big things.”
“I got married,” I said, almost whispering. “When I was young, I thought it was the right decision. But I let it all go.”
He was quiet for a moment. “And now?”
“Now I’m here. Alone. Starting over.”
Julian nodded thoughtfully, then reached into his coat and handed me a business
“Maybe this is yu
I looked down at it:
Julian Wilde
Creative Director Studio Élan
Milan
My eyes widened. “You’re a creative director?”
“We’re looking for a designer,” he said nonchalantly. “for a capsule collection. We’ve been scouting for a fresh perspective–then I recalled your work. You always stood apart..
I stared at the card. “You’re offering me a job?”
“I’m offering you a chance. A fresh start–if you want it.”
Around us, the city moved on–buses
”
This didn’t feel like a coincidence. It felt like destiny catching up.
I smiled. “You know… I was actually thinking about staying in Milan a little longer.”
“Good,” he said. “Then maybe next time, you’ll walk down that aisle… with someone beside you!”
I laughed again, lighter this time. “Don’t push it, Julian.”
He raised a brow. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
And so we sat–two old schoolmates, two people with stories unfinished–maybe, just maybe, about to write a new chapter together.
