The wind had calmed, and the golden hues of the setting sun gave the scene a quiet, melancholic beauty. As they walked, they exchanged memories of high school teachers they both had, mutual friends they never realized they shared, moments that somehow linked their pasts even though they had never crossed paths.
Vincent chuckled at a memory. "I remember the art teacher—Mr. Collins—he was always so dramatic. I think he scared half the class with his temper tantrums."
Eve laughed, the tension between them easing for the first time. "Oh my God, yes! He once threw a paintbrush across the room because someone used the wrong shade of blue. Classic Mr. Collins."
It surprised him how natural it felt to talk to her—Eve had always seemed distant, an untouchable figure in the world of the elite, but here, she was just a person with her own grief, visiting her grandmother's grave. He found himself drawn to her vulnerability, to the way her laughter broke through the coolness in her voice when they talked about Mr. Collins, and the way her guard softened for a brief moment.
They eventually found themselves sitting on a weathered bench near the edge of the graveyard, overlooking a small grove of trees.
Eve pulled her coat tighter as she sat down. Her guard up just a little, though their conversation had grown warmer.
There was a quiet beauty in the moment—autumn's chill creeping in, the sun casting a golden hue over everything. Vincent wanted to hold onto that peacefulness, to forget, even for a moment, the life waiting for him beyond this graveyard.
"So, what do you do for a living?" Eve asked, curious about the man who seemed so out of place in her life.
Vincent hesitated for just a moment, but the smile never left his face. "I'm a consultant, actually. Financial management. I work with different firms to help streamline their operations." He lied. As much as he wanted to be open, a nagging voice inside reminded him that the truth about his life was something Eve could never know.
He watched her face as she processed his response. "Consultant, huh? That sounds… impressive," she said, her tone light, but her curiosity still piqued.
It was a respectable enough profession, but something about the way he said it felt rehearsed. Still, Eve didn't push further. After all, everyone had their secrets.
He said, leaning back slightly on the bench. "It keeps me busy."
Inside, the guilt gnawed at him. Vincent had lied about more than just his name. Telling her he was a financial consultant, though partially true, wasn't the full story. Yes, he had legitimate businesses, but they were all fronts for his family's operations. His day-to-day life wasn't spent in boardrooms or corporate meetings—it was spent managing the darker side of his inheritance. But he didn't want to be that person, not with her.
Despite it all, he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Something about Eve made him want to stay, even if it meant hiding the truth, even if it meant living in the moment of this half-truth they were sharing.
"And what brings you back to Chicago?" she asked, eyeing him carefully. "If you're based in New York, like you said."
His gaze drifted for a moment, as if he were choosing his words carefully. "Just visiting some old friends… and paying respects to the past, like you."
Eve nodded. The fact that they had unknowingly shared the same town, the same high school, and now found themselves back here felt almost too surreal.
His words were smooth, but there was something in his eyes—something he was holding back. But again, Eve let it slide. She wasn't ready to pry into whatever shadows lingered behind those dark eyes of his.
Instead, she sighed, looking out at the horizon where the sun was now dipping below the trees. "It's strange being back here," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I didn't think I'd ever come back after Gran passed."
Vincent nodded, understanding etched on his face. "I get it. Sometimes the past is easier to leave behind. But it has a way of pulling you back."
He realized that he liked the sound of her voice, the way her guard would briefly drop, and he could catch glimpses of the woman beneath the polished exterior. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the urge to be someone different, someone better.
The cool autumn breeze whispered around them and Eve felt a strange sense of calm. She looked at him, surprised by the depth in his words. She still had questions, doubts about Vincent's story, about who he really was, but for now, she let them go.
Here, in this quiet moment, it was enough to sit together, two people bound by invisible threads, sharing a past they hadn't known they had.