Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Rosemary was staring at her like she'd seen a ghost, "You like someone and you let them play the merry widower for three years? Man, your love is really something else!"

Yolanda nodded in agreement, "True that. But why is he so hell-bent on having you move back in? After all, you've got to move out again in three months. It's totally pointless."

Rosemary was clueless and couldn't care less about digging deeper.

Out for dinner, Rosemary ordered a ridiculously spicy broth that made her sweat buckets, but it was a seriously refreshing kind of torture.

At night, worried that the guy would pull another stunt, Rosemary just shut her phone off. The next morning she got up at the crack of dawn, packed her stuff into the car, and moved to her newly rented place.

After sprucing up her outfit a bit, she headed to her soon-to-be workplace.

Heritage Revive Studio.

Oswald, the head honcho there, was well into his sixties, not the tallest dude around, but his jaw dropped when he saw Rosemary!

"You're the 'Rose', the restorer?"

Rosemary nodded politely, "Yep, that's me."

Throughout the years, Rosemary didn’t take on many projects, but the ones she did were tough as nails, so she had quite the rep in the industry.

But she didn’t want to bask in the limelight, so she never used her real name. Her stage name was a no-brainer - just "Rose".

Before this, Oswald had never met her in person, only seen the masterpieces she'd restored. Her skills were top-notch, her technique impeccable. Some of her work was so on point that even the old-timers in the biz doubted they could match it, but Rose nailed it every time. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

In Oswald’s mind, he had pictured Rose to be someone around his age, not a young lass!

"I've seen your restoration work. You're really going places for someone so young!"

Rosemary chuckled, "You flatter me. There's a lot I still need to learn."

While chatting, Oswald walked her over to a vacant spot, "This is your workstation. Hans." He called someone over, "Grab a few pieces for our new colleague to get acquainted with."

As a restorer, identifying the era, origin, and authenticity of cultural relics was bread and butter stuff. Normally, he would waive the entry assessment for someone he personally invited, but Rosemary was not what he expected, better stick to the protocol.

Hans quickly brought over a few relics from different periods, carefully laying them out on the table. Seeing this, the rest of the studio crew gathered around, murmuring, "Didn't they say a pro was joining today? Why's it just a young girl?"

"Probably someone padding their resume, thinking they could snag some prestige working here, but got caught by a tough nut like Oswald who wants to test her."

“I heard in order to get her recruited, Oswald has personally asked for others’ help. Looks like he’s gonna be disappointed!”

As they chatted, Rosemary had already identified the pieces on the table - era, origin, and even some intricate details and quirks, spot on.

Hans was surprised, "That was fast."

As Oswald's protege, he'd been in the game since graduating from college nearly a decade ago, and to be honest, even he couldn't identify them as quickly.

Oswald nodded in approval, acknowledging Rosemary's theoretical chops, but as for her practical skills, they'd have to see her in action.

Since he'd never seen Rosemary's restoration work firsthand, he didn't dare to give her an authentic piece to work on, so he asked Hans to bring over a fake, a practice piece for her to restore.

"Don't take it personally; it's just how we do things around here. Those relics are priceless and irreplaceable, so we're a bit extra cautious when it comes to picking the right person."

Rosemary got it. Restoration work could be a lengthy and monotonous process, and since everyone had low expectations for Rosemary - she looked more like an apprentice than a master - interest fizzled out and people dispersed.

It wasn’t until closing time, when they saw the finished product of her restoration, that everyone was gobsmacked.

Someone murmured wistfully, "When I started here, it took me three days to fix that shard."

Everyone was dazzled by Rosemary's speedy yet superb restoration skills, all except Oswald. He was peering at the restored shard in his hands through his reading glasses, silent for a long while. If one watched closely, it was easy to find his fingers trembling uncontrollably.

Oswald looked up at Rosemary, his eyes holding a complex mix of emotions, "What's your connection with Rosalind?"

At that name, Rosemary's eyes flickered dramatically, but it was a fleeting moment missed by all.

After a brief silence, she replied, "Heard of her, but never met her."

Rosalind, once the brightest star in the restoration field, a jack-of-all-trades talent whose craftsmanship was described as “transcendent, divinely inspired”. Anyone in the biz knew her name, but she vanished shortly after making a splash.

For years, her whereabouts remained a mystery.

Oswald pressed on, "But your technique, it's like it was cut from the same cloth as hers."

"My grandpa was also a restorer; I learned from him."

Oswald's face darkened slightly, and then he just nodded, not prying further, though clearly disappointed. Regardless, Rosemary's talent was undeniable. Oswald introduced her to everyone formally, "This is Rose, our new colleague."

Hans was shocked, "Rose? The one I've heard about? But shouldn't that be an elder? How could it be a young girl, and such a looker at that?"

Oswald shot him a look that told him to zip it.

"Don't mind him, Rose."

Rosemary just smiled. Oswald went on to introduce the rest of the team. The studio was a cozy bunch, just eight or nine folks, all down-to-earth and genuinely complimentary, nothing like the passive-aggressive vibe she used to get at the Templeton Group.

Rosemary was digging it, especially since it was her passion. After work, the studio gang decided to grab a meal together, a Heritage Revive Studio tradition. Whenever a new member joined, they would all go out for a welcoming feast.

It was a seafood joint, and right across from it was this fancy restaurant. Up on the second floor, by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Archer Winters was taking a smoke break and casually glanced down.

He cocked his chin up a bit and nudged Maxwell, "Hey, check it out. Isn't that Rosemary over there?"

Maxwell lifted his gaze following Archer's nod and, sure enough, spotted Rosemary down there, yukking it up with a few folks.