Chapter 3

The next evening, I waited until Julian had finished working before bringing up the phone call.

"I want to talk about Lianne."

Julian looked up from his laptop. He didn't avoid the subject.

"Okay."

His calm response put me slightly at ease. I sat across from him, careful not to make it sound like an accusation.

"I didn't have a problem with you helping her when she first came back to New York. But that problem is over, and you're still talking. And it's not just casual conversation anymore."

Julian watched me for a moment.

"You heard the call last night?"

"I was walking past your study. I wasn't trying to listen."

"I didn't say you were."

He closed his laptop and gave me his full attention. That was how Julian approached problems--calm, focused, willing to discuss them.

It was one of the reasons I still believed we could work this out.

"I know you two have a history,"

I said.

"I've never asked you to pretend it didn't happen. But she's back in your life now, and the two of you are talking about the past. About what might have happened if you hadn't broken up. To me, that's no longer helping an old friend."

A faint line appeared between his brows.

"Iris, nothing has happened between us."

"I know."

"I haven't touched her. I'm not planning to get back together with her."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

He paused.

"Lianne is becoming someone you share private emotions with again,"

I continued.

"The way you make time for her, the way you respond to her, the way the two of you keep going back to what you had that's what makes me uncomfortable."

Julian leaned back, as though reconsidering what I was actually saying.

"So you think I'm being unfaithful?"

"I think we need to be clear about boundaries."

"Our boundaries are already clear."

That stopped me for a moment.

Julian continued,

"The agreement is explicit. During the marriage, we're both required to remain sexually faithful. I haven't violated that."

Three years ago, when we signed that agreement, the clause had seemed perfectly reasonable.

Back then, we hadn't even built a real life together yet.

But now he was using the terms of a three-year-old contract to explain our marriage.

"Julian, we've been married for three years."

"I know."

"Then you should understand that I'm not checking whether you've breached a contract."

Confusion finally showed on his face.

"Then what do you want me to do? Cut off all contact with her?"

"I didn't say that."

"You're saying the contact crosses a line, but you're not asking me to stop speaking to her."

"Because I want you to understand the difference yourself."

He looked at me as if the answer were too vague to be useful.

A tiredness settled over me.

"If I'd once been deeply in love with another man,"

I said,

"and he came back years later, and I started helping him with personal problems, talking about our relationship, wondering what might have happened if we'd stayed together would you honestly consider that normal?"

Julian didn't answer immediately.

After a few seconds, he said,

"If you told me clearly that nothing was happening between you, I'd trust you."

It wasn't the answer I wanted.

What mattered more was that he wasn't being dismissive. He wasn't trying to provoke me.

He genuinely believed what he was saying.

To Julian, loyalty seemed to have a clear boundary. As long as nothing physical happened, as long as he had no intention of leaving our marriage, everything else remained within a range that could be explained.

What troubled me existed before that line was ever crossed.

"I'm not trying to control you,"

I said.

"I just need you to understand that she isn't an ordinary friend. Your history means the two of you need clearer boundaries."

Julian was silent for a moment before nodding.

"Okay. I'll be more careful. I'll cut back on any contact that isn't necessary."

His tone was practical, almost as if he had arrived at a workable solution.

I looked at him.

"Do you understand why this bothers me?"

Julian reached across the space between us and took my hand.

"I understand that you're uncomfortable with the way things are now. I'll handle it."

After that, Julian clearly considered the conversation finished.

But lying beside him that night, I understood something I hadn't before.

He had agreed to change his behavior.

He still didn't understand why that behavior could hurt our marriage.