Chapter 17 - A Quiet EncounterSpring returned to New York, bringing warm breezes and blooming cherry blossoms to Central Park.
One afternoon, while taking a brief walk between meetings, Clare decided to stroll near the lake. She wore a simple navy trench coat, her chestnut hair swaying softly in the breeze.
As she crossed a stone bridge, she noticed a man sitting on a wooden bench nearby. He was wearing a plain gray jacket, reading a book, a simple travel backpack resting beside him.
It was Ethan.
He looked different. The arrogant swagger was entirely gone. His posture was quieter, grounded, and his hair was touched with silver at the temples. He didn't look like a high-society tech mogul, nor did he look like a desperate corporate parasite. He looked like an ordinary man trying to rebuild his life from scratch.
Clare stopped walking. For a moment, their eyes met across the paved pathway.
Ethan slowly closed his book. He didn't stand up, and he didn't rush over to plead or beg. He simply looked at her with a quiet, solemn expression of profound regret and acknowledgment.
May you like
He offered a slow, respectful nod of his head—not as a former husband demanding attention, but as a man acknowledging a queen he had foolishly lost.
Clare held his gaze for three long seconds. She didn't look away with anger or bitterness. Instead, she offered a single, calm nod in return, turned gracefully, and continued walking down her path toward the city.
