The park was quiet except for the rustling of leaves and the gentle chirping of birds. Sophie stepped out of the car, clutching Lucien's lunch in her hands. Her heels crunched softly against the gravel path as she made her way toward the pond Ettiene had mentioned.
As she walked, the beauty of the place struck her. The pond's surface shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the surrounding trees like a perfect mirror. Benches lined the cobblestone pathway, and a light breeze carried the faint scent of blooming flowers. It was serene, almost too serene, for the emotions stirring inside her.
She spotted Lucien sitting on a wooden bench near the water's edge, his back turned to her. His posture was rigid, his broad shoulders hunched forward as though he carried the weight of the world. His hands rested on his lap, fingers clasped tightly together.
Sophie hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. Despite her growing resentment over the forced charade, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. She approached cautiously, clearing her throat softly to announce her presence.
Lucien turned his head slightly, his sharp profile catching the light. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, and for a brief moment, they softened.
"You're here," he said quietly, his voice rough.
Sophie nodded, holding up the lunchbox. "Genevieve asked me to bring this to you. You missed lunch."
Lucien's lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile, but it quickly vanished. He gestured to the spot beside him. "Sit."
She hesitated before lowering herself onto the bench. The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as Sophie handed him the lunchbox. Lucien opened it mechanically, but he didn't touch the food. Instead, he stared at the pond, his expression distant.
"This was her favorite place," Lucien said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Amelie used to come here to clear her head. She said it was the only place that made her feel truly at peace."
Sophie's chest tightened. She didn't know how to respond, so she simply listened.
"She loved the sound of the water," Lucien continued, his eyes fixed on the pond. "She said it reminded her of home, of simpler times." He let out a bitter laugh. "I never really understood what she meant until I lost her. Now, this place feels like the only connection I have left to her."
Sophie shifted uncomfortably. She could see the raw pain etched into Lucien's face, the kind that came from carrying a loss too heavy to bear. For a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to be loved so deeply that someone couldn't let go even after death.
"I... I didn't know her," Sophie said softly, choosing her words carefully, "but she must have been special."
Lucien turned to her, his gaze searching her face. "She was more than special. She was everything."
The intensity of his words made Sophie's throat tighten. She glanced away, focusing on the pond. "What happened to her?" she asked, though she already knew some of the answer.
Lucien's jaw clenched, and he looked down at his hands. "It was an accident," he said, his voice strained. "Or at least, that's what everyone thinks."
Sophie's heart skipped a beat. "Thinks?"
He hesitated, as if debating whether to say more. Finally, he shook his head. "Forget it. It doesn't matter now."
They sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of unspoken truths hanging between them. Sophie could feel the tension in his posture, the way his hands gripped the edge of the bench.
"She loved magnolias," Lucien said suddenly, his tone softer. "Whenever we passed by a flower shop, she'd stop to admire them. I bought her a bouquet once, and she acted like it was the greatest gift in the world."
Sophie smiled faintly, despite herself. "She sounds... kind."
Lucien nodded, his eyes glazing over with memories. "She was. Too kind for this world."
The vulnerability in his voice made Sophie's heart ache. For a moment, she forgot about her own pain, her own confusion. All she could see was a man who had lost someone he loved more than life itself.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this," Lucien said abruptly, his voice laced with frustration. "You're not her."
The words stung, but Sophie swallowed her pride. "Maybe because you need someone to listen," she offered.
Lucien looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back against the bench, closing his eyes. "Maybe."
They sat there for what felt like hours, the sun dipping lower in the sky. For the first time since stepping into Lucien's world, Sophie felt a glimmer of understanding—a fragile connection between two broken souls trying to navigate the chaos around them.
When Lucien finally stood, Sophie followed suit, brushing off her skirt. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he said, his tone softer than before.
She nodded. "Take care of yourself, Lucien."
As she walked away, Sophie couldn't help but glance back at him, still standing by the pond, his silhouette framed by the fading light. For all his strength and cold demeanor, Lucien was a man trapped in his own sorrow, haunted by memories he couldn't escape.
And as much as Sophie wanted to run from it all, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was now part of his story—whether she liked it or not.