Chapter 25
It was late autumn when Katherine received the invitation.
An elegant white envelope embossed with silver lettering. The Nash Foundation was hosting a charity gala—its first major event since the internal shake-up. She hadn’t attended one of their events in years, not since the days when she was expected to smile at Julian’s side like furniture dressed in heels.
She placed the envelope on the counter and left it unopened for days.
But curiosity is a quiet force. One night, after a long day and a glass of wine, she finally slid the card out.
Her name was printed at the top, personally addressed.
Noah found her staring at it.
“You’re not actually thinking of going, are you?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Part of me wants to see what’s changed.”
He studied her. “Just make sure you’re going to observe. Not to reopen anything.”
Katherine smiled. “That chapter is closed. Bolted shut. But maybe it’s time to walk through the last room I once lived in—and walk out on my own terms.”
The night of the gala, she wore deep emerald satin. Elegant but effortless, her hair swept back, her presence striking. The kind of woman people noticed—not for scandal, not for pity, but for power.
When she stepped into the venue, heads turned. Conversations paused. For a second, the room recalibrated itself around her.
She didn’t flinch.
She just smiled.
The speeches began. The orchestra played. Waiters passed champagne and tiny desserts.
And then, across the room, she saw him.
Julian.
Dressed in a black tailored suit, his posture calm, his gaze unreadable.
He saw her too.
For the first time in years, they were face to face—no signatures between them, no broken marriage, no obligation. Just two people standing on opposite sides of a life they once shared.
He didn’t approach immediately.
He waited until she was alone at the edge of the ballroom, looking out at the skyline through tall windows.
Only then did he walk over, slow and measured.
“Katherine,” he said quietly.
She turned. “Julian.”
There was a long pause.
“You look… well.”
“I am.”
He nodded, glancing out the window. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t expect you to.”
She looked at him steadily. “I didn’t come for you. I came for myself.”
Something in him cracked, just a little.
“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he said. “But I do want you to know… I see it now. Everything you were. Everything you gave. I’m sorry I only learned to value you in your absence.”
Her voice was gentle, but firm. “And I’m sorry it took losing everything for you to finally see me.”
She didn’t say it with venom.
There was no anger left.
Only truth.
“I hope,” he said after a moment, “you find the happiness I never gave you.”
“I already did,” she said softly. “And I didn’t have to find it, Julian. I built it.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
Graceful.
Complete.
Free.