“I know. I’m a saint.” Vivian grabbed her keys from her pocket. “Now get in the car before I change my mind about liking your wife.”
Your wife.
The words hung in the air between us.
Julien looked at me.
I looked at him.
And for just a second, just one brief, fleeting second, something passed between us. Something that wasn’t about cosmic destiny or universal plans or any of the spiritual things I usually believed in.
Something simpler.
Something like... gratitude.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“For—” He paused. “For defending me. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did,” I said. “You’re my husband.”
He winced.
“Too soon?”
“Way too soon.”
“Noted.” I smiled. “But it’s still true.”
“Get in the car,” Vivian called. “Both of you. Before I commit a felony in front of witnesses.”
We got in the car.
Julien in the front passenger seat.
Me in the back, surrounded by my duffel bag and carry-on and all the chaotic energy I’d brought into his perfectly ordered life.
As Vivian pulled out of the airport, I caught Julien’s eye in the rearview mirror.
He was still looking at me with that same confused, slightly awed expression.
Like he was trying to figure out a puzzle he hadn’t known existed.
And I thought,Maybe the universe didn’t just send me to him because he needs chaos.
Maybe it sent me because he needs someone who will see past the control and the schedules and the color-coded calendars.
Someone who will see him.
The real him.
The one who was scared and exhausted and trying so hard to hold everything together.
The one who deserved to be defended.
Even from his own sister.
