Chapter 5
Lilian smiled sweetly. "Julieta, I'm trying to help. You've been through six rounds of IVF and still have no baby. Holding onto all of this is only making it worse.
"Emerson told me it's post-traumatic stress. You need to let go and stop forcing things. Why not clear it all out? Out of sight, out of mind."
The words hit Julieta like a slap. Emerson had told her everything. The IVF attempts, the trauma. All of it.
That trauma went back to her childhood, when a neighbor kidnapped and assaulted her. Her ovary ruptured. She nearly bled out on the operating table.
It was the shadow that had followed her for years, and she'd trusted Emerson with it. Only him.
He'd promised to keep it safe, promised nothing would ever hurt her again. He'd lied.
The strength drained out of her. Even standing felt impossible.
She turned to leave, and there he was.
Emerson stood frozen in the doorway, still holding the cake he'd brought for Lilian. He'd heard everything.
Guilt flickered across his face. But he didn't stop Lilian. Didn't defend Julieta. Didn't say a word.
She expected to feel rage. Instead, all she felt was a hollow, mocking numbness.
"Julieta—" he started.
Her head was pounding. She cut him off. "Lilian's right. Better to clear it all out. I'm fine. There's nothing to talk about."
Back in her room, she didn't waste a second. She called George Owens.
He picked up immediately. "Mr. Owens," she said flatly, "when can we sign? Sooner is better. I'm ready whenever you are."
George didn't sound surprised. "Ms. Summers, the contract is ready. Come by tomorrow at two. Does that work?"
She forced herself to sound steady. "I'll be there."
"Julieta, where are you going?" Emerson appeared in the doorway, gift box in hand, watching her intently.
She didn't look up. "Apothecary stuff."
Her flat tone clearly bothered him. But he knew he'd screwed up, so he tried to smooth things over, awkwardly changing the subject.
He opened the box and pulled out a ring. "You said you lost your wedding ring. Had this custom-made for you. Try it on."
He reached for her hand, but she barely glanced at the diamond before pulling away.
"Just leave it. It won't fit," she said.
"How do you know? You haven't even tried it." His eyes went cold. "It was made for you. If it doesn't fit, I'll have it fixed."
His jaw tightened. "Or is there something else going on?"
Julieta carefully packed away the last of her herbs, brushing past him. "You're reading too much into it.
"I work with herbs every day. A ring gets in the way. Leave it aside. It doesn't matter."
Emerson couldn't understand why it didn't matter anymore and why she could do everything with a ring before and not now.
Before he could push further, Lilian's voice floated in from the living room, reminding him about the art show.
He swallowed his frustration. "Lilian's exhibition opens tonight. She can't manage alone, so I'm going to help. I'll be back late.
"If you're tired, go to bed. Don't wait up."
He grabbed his coat and was gone.
Once the door clicked shut, Julieta calmly started packing.
There was nothing left worth keeping here. Just her clothes and her herbs. Everything else could stay.
But packing was harder than she'd thought. Five years of marriage meant their lives were tangled together in every corner.
After the wedding, she'd filled this house with warm, cozy things, hoping that if she made it feel like home, maybe they'd actually become a family. Maybe they'd learn to love each other.
Now, sorting through it all, she realized how many couple-themed items had quietly accumulated. Matching mugs. Paired towels. Side-by-side pillows.
She didn't want any of it. So she packed it all up, sealed the boxes, and tucked them away in the storage room.