How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Epilogue

A final thank you to my many readers who have encouraged me. Thank you for the compliments in the form of votes, comments, messages, and recommendations. All of this was for you. 

{Kate's Point of View}

One year, one album, and one tour later, I was still collecting lost memories. They would return, but it was never very often. Once every few months I would have a dream that seemed vaguely familiar. I would smell a certain smell that made me nostalgic for something I could not place. But after so much time to create new memories, I hardly even missed the old ones.

It almost seemed impossible how much changed in my life over the course of a year. People came in and out of my life at a rate I never could have imagined. I found myself taking advantage of new opportunities and being given chances to follow my instincts. I felt equally at the mercy of my surroundings and complete control at all times. But the most important lesson I learned was that people are meant to be constantly evolving. It didn't matter who I was before, it mattered who I was going to be.

Taking risks, learning, experiencing, loving, observing, speaking, living, apologizing, standing up, trying, failing, trying again. Evolving.

____________

I walked in the Givenchy store with all of the confidence I had acquired over the past year. When the door swung open, I pulled my sunglasses off my face and quickly dropped them in my handbag. By the time I looked up again, a sales associate was already hovering near a mannequin displaying an impeccable dress. His eyes flickered for a moment, as if he were trying to place from where he knew me.

"Bienvenue," he said with an aloofness that was intriguing.

"Hello," I smiled.

"Are you shopping for something specific today?" he offered in English that was dripping in a divine French accent.

"No," I shook my head.

"If you need anything, my name is Philippe."

"Thank you," I said.

My heels clacked noisily across the floor as I wandered from the women's clothing to the men's in the other half of the store. I breezed by the new t-shirts for spring that were made of soft cotton. I reached out and touched the lapel of an expertly tailored suit jacket. I admired a glass case of leather wallets. I felt the fur of a classic bomber. The clothing was lovely.

I wasn't just shopping for the sake of looking; I had an objective in mind. I needed a gift that was something small and novelty. A keychain was too frivolous; a pair of sneakers was the wrong taste. As I felt the material of a simple button down shirt, something caught my attention: a scarf.

The scarf was stunning. It was charcoal with the smallest hint of blood orange in a subtle pattern. I felt the soft textile between two fingers. The very softness of the scarf felt like a compliment.

"It's Italian silk," the French accent said. Philippe walked around and unwrapped the scarf from the display spool. "And it's the perfect size. You can wrap, drape, or tie it."

"It's lovely," I said, touching the fabric again.

"This particular pattern is only available here in this store. This Givenchy store was given an exclusive. May I ask who this is for?"

"My boyfriend," I smiled.

"Ah," Philippe grinned. "A lucky man to have such a beautiful woman."