Did I?
Saturday comes and goes like a slap. For the first time since we settled into this strange, beautiful rhythm, Julian doesn’t come with me to see my mother. No text explaining. No apology. Just Claire again, telling me there’s an acquisition, and everyone’s working around the clock.
Everyone.
Except it doesn’t takeeveryoneto send a text. Even if he is busy, even if they are swamped. It takes seconds to text me, a minute to make a phone call. But in the time from the airport to the penthouse, I went from worthy of his time and attention to not.
I tell myself not to spiral. I tell myself this is temporary. That work has always been his pressure point. That this is what he warned me about.
But by Sunday morning, the quiet feels deliberate.
So on Monday morning, I decided I’m done waiting.
I go to Northwell with his favourite lunch in my hands because if I’m standing in front of him, he can’t disappear. He can’t avoid me if I’m real and present and breathing the same air.
His floor smells like leather and cologne and ambition. Nothing has changed, and somehoweverythinghas.
Claire looks surprised to see me.
“Julians in a meeting,” she says carefully. “He should be finished soon.”
I nod and take a seat, trying to keep my breathing steady. The office door opens before I can overthink it, and a woman steps out. She’s not dressed for business. She is in a bodycon dressthat looks painted on, sky-high heels that enhance her long, lean legs, and her black, glossy hair falling perfectly down her back. She is absolutely stunning, young and confident in the way she moves, the way she takes up time and space. Confident, how women are when they know they're wanted.
Claire mutters something under her breath. “This is what happens when Richard North gets involved.”
Richard.
My stomach drops because I didn’t know Julian was working with his father again.
The woman’s gaze lifts and locks onto mine, and recognition flashes through my mind.
She’s the one, the woman from the first gala. The one Richard had introduced. The one he’d baited Julian into dancing with while I sat at the table feeling invisible.
She smirks as she passes me, and my skin crawls.
Claire clears her throat and gestures toward Julian’s office. “You can follow me in.”
Julian doesn’t look up when I enter. He says something sharp to Claire, clipped and annoyed, and when she clears her throat and tells him I’m here to see him, he doesn’t even turn his head.
“Tell her I’m in a meeting.”
That’s it... That’s the moment something inside me snaps. I don’t wait for permission. I step forward and drop the bag of food directly onto the stack of papers on his desk. The sound is louder than it should be.
He finally looks up.
I don’t give him time to speak; I turn and walk out.
I hear voices behind me, his and Claire’s, but I don’t listen. I can’t. If I stop moving, I might break completely.
I run straight into Caleb at the elevators.
He takes one look at my face and stills. “Lucy,” he says quietly.
I’m holding myself together by force of habit alone. By muscle memory. Through years of practice.
“He’s just busy right now,” Caleb adds gently. “This acquisition...”
The look I give him and the shouting coming from Julian's office cut off his words.
