Chapter 3
Ten minutes later, Julian's car pulled into the garage. "I'm here. Come on down," he said.
Julian's black Bentley was parked outside the apartment building, the windshield wipers moving at their slowest setting.
He was standing by the car, smoking. The tip of his cigarette flickered in the rain. When he saw me coming, he immediately put it out.
"I got your favorite latte," he said, opening the car door for me.
The car was filled with notes of orange and cedarwood, and the AC was set to my favorite temperature, just the way I liked it.
The seat heater was already on, and in the cup holder sat an oat milk latte with half sugar, waiting for me.
"There's a blanket in the back," Julian said as he leaned in to buckle my seatbelt, his lashes casting soft shadows across his glasses. "You always get carsick."
The car drove into the rain, with the GPS quiet. He obviously knew the route by heart.
While waiting at a red light, his right hand tapped the steering wheel without thinking. "The villa's by the sea," he said.
Out of nowhere, Julian said, "If you have trouble sleeping, you can listen to the sound of the waves."
Raindrops traced lines down the window, and his profile stood out sharply against the flickering neon lights.
"The master bedroom faces south. You'll get fourteen hours of sunlight every day," he added.
I traced the raised pattern on the cup sleeve. "How long have you been planning this?" I asked.
The windshield wipers suddenly sped up, his Adam's apple bobbing. He said, "Not long. As long as you like it."
He was always like this, quietly doing everything for me, never saying a word about all he did.
As the car turned onto the coastal road, the villa ahead was aglow with lights.
Every window shone brightly, like a lighthouse in the night, waiting for a ship to return home.
"Welcome home, Miss Reed," Julian said.
After dinner, my phone buzzed.
It was Sienna. She sent me a photo of herself wearing my silk robe.
The belt was loosely tied, showing off the rose tattoo on her inner thigh.
[Hazel, your husband says I look way sexier in this robe than you do.
[Hazel, your husband's got such a great body.
[He said this robe is the most comfortable, so I made sure not to take it off.
[Look how much he's enjoying himself.] In the photo, Leroy's hand was resting on her waist, his wedding ring glinting under the lights.
Leroy's voice came through, slow and languid in the audio. He said, "Quit messing around. Move your hand."
In the background, I could hear the faint sound of fabric shifting.
I bit my lip so hard the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth.
Another message popped up.
[He says you two have never even hooked up.
[Hazel, are you just a prude or what?
[Hazel, your husband's tie is surprisingly sexy wrapped around my thigh.
[He says it's way more fun than tying it around his neck.
[Want to see what happens next?]
Suddenly, a video popped up. The camera wobbled, panning across the messy bed, and then Leroy's slender hand slid into the frame.
His wedding ring caught the dim light, flashing cold and sharp.
He held his palm out, and Sienna grinned as she dropped her lipstick into his hand. "Come on, help me fix my lipstick," she teased. Leroy's deep laugh rumbled in the background.
I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned white, and another message popped up. [He says you never even let him near your lipstick.
[Are you disgusted by him or something?]
Julian grabbed my phone, turned it off, and buried it deep in the couch cushions.
He rested his hand against my cold cheek. "Should we go get your things now?" he asked.
I nodded blankly.
Thirty minutes later, we stood at the door of the Carter residence.
The passcode was still my birthday, but the smart system in the entryway showed the last time the door had been opened was two weeks ago.
The whole house felt like an exquisite tomb.
My skincare products were neatly arranged in the bathroom, and every item in the closet was organized by color.
The design drafts in the study were covered with a thin layer of dust. Leroy hadn't been back for ages.
But there was no sign of any other woman at all.
"That asshole Leroy. How could he do this to you?" Julian muttered.
"He took her to a hotel.
"At least my bed's still clean," I murmured to myself.
Julian pulled me close, his breath coming in harsh bursts and his voice shaking. "Hazel, he doesn't deserve you. He's nothing but a monster."
Only then did I realize that he was crying.
This man, always so gentle and polished, now let his tears fall hot against my neck, burning with a pain that scared me.
When I was packing the last box, my hand found a velvet box deep in the nightstand.
Inside were the cufflinks I'd given Leroy for our anniversary last year. He hadn't even opened the package.
The date on the label burned into my memory. It was the same week he took Sienna to Eurilia.
"Let's go," Julian said.
He took the box, placed it in the suitcase, and held my hand firmly. He said, "The ice cream shop's probably open now."
As the elevator descended, Sienna sent another message.
This time, it was an ultrasound pic. [So, Hazel, which do you think Leroy wants, a boy or a girl?]
Julian slipped my phone into the inside pocket of his suit.
"I'll get you a new number tomorrow," he said.
He paused, then added, "Chocolate or mint flavor? I remember you liked it with crushed nuts."
I glanced at his eyes, still red in the elevator mirror, and suddenly smiled, "Both. This time, you're joining me."