Year Five The Perfect Goodbye Plan novel Chapter 37

“There’s really nothing left for me to think about.”

Silvia let out a faint laugh and lowered her gaze. The truth was, she’d already made up her mind before she even left for home.

She nodded politely to the two of them, signaling she was ready to leave with Kent.

There was a serene calmness in Silvia’s eyes, her hair tucked neatly behind one ear, but her whole demeanor radiated an unmistakable chill—an elegant sort of distance that pushed others away.

It was as if she’d already started to drift beyond their reach, and that thought left Shipley’s heart sinking with a quiet sense of loss.

Vianne noticed, her expression tinged with sympathetic concern. “Silvia, are you upset?”

Before Silvia could answer, Vianne continued, “Shipley didn’t come to the gallery with you earlier, but only because he’s been so busy. Now that his project’s finally done, he had some free time, so he came with me instead. Please don’t go befriending people just to rile Shipley, okay?”

She looked all sweetness and understanding, the picture of gentle concern. But Silvia could see the smug satisfaction flickering in Vianne’s eyes, no matter how well she tried to hide it.

It was exhausting. Silvia glanced away, her gaze settling on Kent.

He simply looked back, his eyes cool and unreadable, almost as if nothing here could touch him.

Strangely, that made Silvia feel steadier—like she had solid ground beneath her feet.

Kent met her gaze, lowering his head slightly, his eyes lingering on her face. Their eyes met for just a moment before they both looked away.

Silvia smiled faintly to herself. She’d been worried Kent might be annoyed by all this, but someone of his stature? He’d never let these petty things trouble him.

Vianne’s voice came again, soft and frail. “Silvia, I just think girls shouldn’t let themselves be tempted by little gifts. After all, it’s just a painting—who knows what the person who gave it to you really wants?”

Just a painting? Silvia wanted to laugh.

Thank goodness that painting hadn’t ended up in Vianne’s hands to be wasted.

“It’s just an art show,” Silvia replied, her tone even. “But you make it sound so important—maybe the gallery should’ve hired you to handle their publicity.”

Her eyes slid over to Shipley, who frowned as if disapproving of her bluntness.

“And anyway,” Silvia continued, “maybe the person who gave me the painting has ulterior motives. But someone who can’t even be bothered to put in a little effort for me—isn’t that even more worthless?”

Though his tone was comforting, there wasn’t the faintest trace of warmth in his eyes.

...

After leaving the gallery, Kent drove Silvia home.

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Are you alright, Miss Ashford?”

Silvia lowered her head, not answering. Instead, she changed the subject. “Thank you for the painting, Mr. Parsons.”

To Silvia, this painting meant more than she could say. She’d treasure it.

Kent saw how carefully she touched the canvas, and his mood seemed to lift, too.

“If you really want to thank me,” he said, “come with me somewhere this Sunday.”

“Alright,” Silvia agreed without hesitation.