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A MILLIONAIRE ABANDONES HIS LOVE: HE FINDS HER WITH A YOUNG MAN IDENTICAL TO HIM 25 YEARS LATER... The cold of the Parisian winter pierced Amélie Rousseau's coat as she nervously walked towards the platform of the Gare de Lyon. Suitcases slid on the concrete floor, railway announcements echoed above the heads of the hurried travelers. Her heart pounding, she tried to follow Henri Dubois, her face still marked by the tears she had shed. Her fingers clutched the worn fabric of his jacket as if it could keep the world from collapsing around her. "Henri, wait..." she pleaded in a trembling voice. He stopped abruptly, his back stiff and his shoulders tense, without turning around. The silence between them had become as icy as the air around them. Finally, he turned around, his once tender blue eyes now shards of ice. “Amélie, it’s over. I’m leaving for London, and I’m not coming back.” She felt the ground give way beneath her feet. Her hands were shaking, and a bitter taste rose in her throat. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to gather her thoughts for one last attempt.