Love and challenges

## second chapter of Crownless king is now released ##

Ethan sat by the window, staring at the rain trickling down the glass. The gray sky reflected his thoughts—dull, endless, and heavy with memories. His latest manuscript sat untouched on the desk, pages scattered like remnants of a life he no longer recognized.

Sophia was everywhere. On television, in magazines, in the quiet moments between breaths. He had stopped trying to escape her presence; she was a ghost haunting him in broad daylight.

Clara knocked softly on the door. "Ethan?"

He turned, forcing a small smile. "Hey."

She hesitated before stepping in, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. "You didn't eat breakfast. Thought you might need this."

He accepted it, the warmth seeping into his palms. "Thanks."

Clara sat across from him, her blue eyes scanning his face. "You're not sleeping again, are you?"

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I try."

"Nightmares?"

"Memories," he corrected.

She nodded. "You could go see her, you know."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Why would I?"

Clara looked away. "Because you still care."

A bitter chuckle escaped him. "Caring doesn't change anything. She left. And now she's everywhere—except here."

Clara traced the rim of her cup. "You never even tried reaching out, did you?"

Ethan's silence was answer enough.

She sighed. "Then maybe you should stop torturing yourself and move on."

"Move on to what, Clara?" His voice was tired, hollow. "I've lost everything. My career is crumbling, my words are meaningless, and the only person who ever made me feel whole is just a stranger on a screen now."

Clara flinched but said nothing.

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Sorry. That wasn't fair."

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. I just… I hate seeing you like this."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sound of rain against the window filled the silence.

Then Clara leaned forward. "Come with me to Paris."

Ethan blinked. "What?"

"I have a concert there next week," she said quickly. "I'll be staying for a while. You need a change of scenery. Get out of this place, breathe a little."

Ethan shook his head. "Clara—"

"Don't say no," she interrupted. "Just think about it."

He exhaled slowly. Paris. A city full of dreams, of possibilities. A city where Sophia lived.

Would he really be able to avoid her there?

Would he even want to?

---

A week later, Ethan found himself standing on a balcony overlooking the Seine River, a cup of coffee warming his hands. Paris felt different—alive, buzzing with an energy that London never had.

Clara had been right. He needed this.

But even here, Sophia's presence loomed over him.

He saw her face on a billboard near Champs-Élysées, her latest album cover staring down at him like a challenge. He heard her music playing from a café nearby, her violin weaving through the city like a whisper from the past.

And then, fate decided to mock him even further.

It happened at Le Jardin Café, a quiet little spot near the concert hall. Clara had invited him for lunch, insisting he try their famous croissants.

He was stirring his coffee when he heard the voice.

A voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Excuse me, do you have a table for two?"

Ethan froze.

Slowly, he turned—and there she was.

Sophia.

Standing mere feet away, dressed in an elegant black coat, her violin case slung over one shoulder. She looked different yet exactly the same—her eyes still held the same warmth, but there was something else there now. Something unreadable.

She hadn't seen him yet. She was speaking to the waiter, her fingers tapping against the strap of her bag.

Ethan's heart pounded.

Should he say something? Walk away? Pretend he hadn't seen her?

Clara, sitting across from him, had also noticed. She touched his hand lightly. "Ethan…"

Too late.

Sophia's gaze lifted—and met his.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, she whispered, "Ethan?"

His throat tightened. "Hey, Sophia."

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

The waiter cleared his throat. "Madame?"

Sophia blinked, breaking eye contact. "Uh… a table outside, please."

She was going to ignore him.

Ethan felt a sharp stab in his chest.

And then, just before she turned away, she whispered, "I didn't think I'd see you again."

Then she walked past him, her scent lingering like a cruel reminder of everything he'd lost.

Ethan stared at his untouched coffee, his hands trembling.

Clara sighed. "Well. That was… unexpected."

Ethan exhaled shakily. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

He forced a smirk. "Peachy."

She rolled her eyes. "Liar."

Ethan glanced outside. Sophia was sitting at a table, sipping her tea, her gaze distant.

He wanted to go to her.

Ask her why she never called. Why she never answered his letters.

But he didn't.

Because he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

---

That night, Ethan wandered the streets of Paris alone.

He ended up near Pont des Arts, the famous bridge where lovers locked their promises in metal and threw the keys into the river.

Once, he and Sophia had talked about coming here together.

Now, he stood alone, watching the water shimmer beneath the streetlights.

He heard footsteps behind him.

Then a soft voice. "You're still dramatic, I see."

Ethan turned.

Sophia stood a few feet away, her arms crossed. She looked… hesitant. Unsure.

"Did you follow me?" he asked, half-smiling.

She shrugged. "You always loved this bridge. Thought I might find you here."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"How have you been?" she asked.

He let out a dry laugh. "How do you think?"

Sophia lowered her gaze. "I saw your books."

"Did you ever read them?"

She hesitated. "No."

He scoffed. "Figures."

"I wanted to," she said quickly. "But… I was scared of what I'd find."

Ethan exhaled sharply. "And what exactly were you scared of, Sophia?"

She bit her lip. "That you still hated me."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "I could never hate you."

Another silence.

Then Sophia whispered, "I'm sorry."

Ethan looked at her, searching for the truth in her eyes. "For what?"

"For everything."

The words hung between them, fragile and uncertain.

Ethan swallowed hard. "Did you ever miss me?"

Sophia's eyes glistened. "Every single day."

His chest ached. "Then why didn't you come back?"

Sophia looked away. "Because I was afraid you wouldn't wait."

Ethan let out a bitter chuckle. "And yet here we are."

She took a step closer. "Ethan, I—"

"Don't," he interrupted. "Not yet."

Sophia flinched but nodded.

For a long time, they just stood there, the city humming around them.

Then, finally, Ethan whispered, "Let's just… walk for now."

Sophia smiled, just barely. "Okay."

And so they walked.

Side by side.

With a million things left unsaid between them.

But for the first time in years, Ethan felt like maybe—just maybe—it wasn't too late.

Not yet

## second chapter of Crownless king is now released ##