By the time we land back in Chicago, my body feels hollowed out. I’m exhausted, and I don't think even sleep will fix it. My emotions are packed tightly inside me, fragile as glass.
I promise Köhler a hotel near the facility. Tell him I’ll pick him up later and bring him in once he’s rested. He nods, already half gone, mind racing ahead to the work.
We disembark.
Graham huffs a quiet laugh beside me, something that sounds like. “More cars than just mine.”
I don’t look up.
I don’t want to.
But I feel his presence.
I take a deep breath and look.
Julian is standing beside his car.
The sight of him hits me like a physical blow.
He looks… wrong. Rumpled. Unshaven. Like someone who hasn’t slept properly in weeks. The controlled, polished man I know is gone, replaced by something raw and exposed. His suit is creased, his shoulders tight, his posture strained like he’s holding himself together by force alone.
When his eyes settle on me, his face shifts.
Relief. Pain. Fear.
Something that looks too close to love.
I shove that thought down hard and keep walking.
He moves toward me immediately.
“Lucy.”
The way he says my name is almost reverent. Like it's a heavy weight, he doesn’t trust himself to hold.
I stop a few feet away, grounding myself. “What are you doing here, Julian?”
He looks like a wild animal trying to pass as tame. “I’m here for you.”
Dr. Köhler looks between us, unimpressed. “If this is about to get dramatic, or if there’s going to be a fight over her, can someone drop me at the hotel I was promised?”
Julian steps closer, voice-controlled but sharp. “There will be no dramatics. She’s, my wife.”
Köhler’s brows lift slightly. “Interesting.”
Julian’s eyes flick over me, searching, and then his focus drops, his eyes locking on my left hand. I swear I hear him growl.
He steps closer, almost choking on his words, "Why aren't you wearing your rings?"
Something inside me snaps.
“They mean what, exactly?” I shoot back. “You were wearing yours when you were with her. What good did that do?”
His face darkens. “Lucy...”
“I am not wearing the rings you bought,” I say, my voice shaking now despite my best effort. “I won’t wear them. What’s the point?”
Köhler mutters, “See? Dramatic.”
