Zack’s POV.
I inhaled deeply as I stepped into my gallery, letting the faint scent of varnished wood and fresh paint fill my lungs. But the feeling wasn’t the same anymore. The peace that used to greet me every time I entered these walls had vanished, replaced by a restless tension I couldn’t shake. It had been like this ever since that night when Eve had stormed in, leaving a trail of chaos in her wake—and a mark on my memory I couldn’t erase. Every corner of this gallery seemed to echo her laughter, her presence lingering in the sunlight that spilled through the high windows. Even the faint scratch of the paintbrushes against canvases seemed to whisper her name.
I tried to convince myself I’d be fine once we met again in Xenonia. The idea had seemed comforting at first, almost foolish
