Chapter 7: Ashes of a Broken Bond
I remained silent. Julian’s perfect jawline twitched, a nervous tic, as if it were a faulty hologram. His phone kept buzzing—first calls, then video invites, and finally a barrage of texts, each one bombarding him like missiles. The tension in the room thickened, palpable.
“You’re not going to answer that?” My voice was cold enough to frost vodka.
Without a word, Julian picked up his phone, turned it off, and set it back on the bedside table. He reached out and touched my forehead. “Still warm. Just sleep, I’ll watch over you.”
I lie back down, closing my eyes. An hour passed before my breathing steadied, growing even in its rhythm.
Silently, Julian picked up his phone again, tiptoeing to the balcony. I could barely hear him as he dialed a number, speaking in hushed tones.
“Are you alright? Don’t be afraid. I’ll come right away…” His voice was low, laden with something I couldn’t quite place.
Then, without another word, he returned to the room, grabbed his coat, and left.
I quietly opened my eyes. I hadn’t slept at all. But did I expect anything different? Changed men were like spoiled fruit; they only rotted further.
At 4:30 AM, Julian returned. Seeing me still asleep, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. He touched my forehead again, finding that my fever had broken. He went to the bathroom, and a moment later, emerged in a bathrobe. He lay down next to me, his arm casually draping over my waist.
I lay still for a while, then gently removed his arm and sat up. I looked at him in the dim light. His face was still handsome, with his sharp jawline, sexy Adam’s apple, and those lips… but the sight of the bite marks on his collarbone made me feel as though I had been stabbed in the chest.
He was so dirty… In that moment, a dark urge filled me, one so fierce that I wanted to smother him with a pillow.
When Julian woke up, I had already gotten out of bed. He made his way downstairs, where I had prepared breakfast for two.
“You should rest more,” he said, his eyes filled with concern. He reached for my forehead, but I dodged his touch. “Just a cold,” I said, shrugging it off. I took off my apron and sat down.
He looked a little awkward, but seeing that I wasn’t angry anymore, he let the matter drop. He sat down across from me.
“I want to discuss something,” I said, my voice calm, though my mind was anything but.
“What is it?” he asked, sipping his juice.
“I want to quit,” I said, watching his face closely.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Quit? Are you serious?”
I nodded. “I’ve worked long enough. I’m tired. I want to experience the easy life of being a rich woman.”
He stared at me, assessing whether I was being serious or not.
“Are you sure you’re not joking?” he asked, still uncertain.
“Yeah,” I replied with a small smile. “What, you think I’m a masochist who wouldn’t enjoy life?”
He paused for a moment, then nodded, agreeing to my request. “Stay home then. We can take the chance to have a child.”
I smiled, but it was empty, devoid of warmth. Oh, honey, you want a broodmare while you screw your sweetheart? Rot in hell.
“I’ll submit my resignation this week,” I said, pushing the thought away. “I’m going to Europe with Sherry. I haven’t traveled for a long time.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Her law firm allows that?”
“Yeah, she made time for me,” I replied with a smile.
Julian’s throat tightened. There was something unspoken in his gaze, but after a moment, he spoke again, his tone adopting the weight of boardroom negotiations. “I’ll arrange everything. Just enjoy the trip.”
I let the silence stretch, savoring it like taffy. Enjoy the final act, dear husband.
The gash on my forehead throbbed, a shameful neon reminder. I extended my medical leave and began sorting through my things, slowly moving them to the new house. Julian didn’t notice a thing.
Even when I took our wedding photos to the yard and burned them in front of him, he didn’t even look up from his phone. If he would just take a moment to glance out the window…
I stood in the fading light of the sunset, my gaze fixed on his oblivious face. I didn’t look away until the lighter burned the tips of my fingers. A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I watched the flames curl around our frozen grins, the photos twisting and blackening. They turned to ash.
A wave of suffocation washed over me, my vision blurring with the heat of tears. I stared at the blackened remnants in my hands.
“What are you burning?” Julian asked, his voice finally breaking through the silence.
I blinked away the tears, trying to calm the storm inside me. “Nothing. Just some… useless rubbish,” I said, my voice betraying none of the emotions roiling beneath the surface.
