Chapter 3

By the time the car pulled up to my building, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

On the ride over, Gaby kept talking to distract me.

Leo drove silently, occasionally reaching over to brush a stray hair behind her ear.

He quietly turned the heater up two degrees.

Watching them in the rearview mirror...

I thought of Julian from years ago.

He used to be like that, too.

Back when I worked late and got a fever, he would scold me for not taking care of myself.

But he would still drive through a blizzard to my office, holding fever reducers and hot soup.

He had severe anxiety, which made him obsess over order and schedules.

But back then, he would hold my wrist gently and say, "Don't do this to yourself again."

I didn't know when, but all that warmth had been redirected to someone else.

Now, he remembered Chloe’s favorite things.

He was willing to wait fifteen minutes for her.

He spent time planning surprises for her.

While all I got was "be independent" and "don't be late."

The elevator dinged.

I unlocked the door and walked in. Julian was sitting on the sofa, an hourglass resting on the coffee table in front of him.

His voice was flat, empty of emotion.

"Do you realize what you did wrong?"

"You know how much effort I put into you. Just calculate how many hours I've spent waiting for you tonight."

His eyes fell on the white gauze wrapped around my knee.

After a brief silence.

He pushed a file folder and a velvet box toward me.

"I edited your presentation. Review it tonight."

He looked away. "And that white gold necklace you were staring at the other day at the mall. I bought it for you."

I opened the box.

A white gold chain.

It was the exact same one Chloe was wearing.

I didn't touch it.

His jaw tightened slightly.

"Dinner is on the table. Eat it."

I stared at the necklace.

Deep down, I knew I never wanted the necklace.

But this was always how he handled things.

Whenever I was at my breaking point, he would assume the posture of "I've already done my best" and throw some material compensation at me.

In the past, I would have accepted it.

I would tell myself his anxiety wasn't his fault, that he couldn't control it.

That his harshness was because he saw me as family.

I had swallowed all the bitterness.

But this time, I didn't even look at the box.

I walked over to the dining table.

The food was ice-cold.

I picked up my fork and began to eat, bite by bite.

Julian was scrolling through his phone, occasionally letting out a soft chuckle.

Usually, to break this kind of icy silence, I would find something to talk about.

The weather, a funny work story, the stray cat downstairs.

But now, I had nothing to say.

The sand in the hourglass finally ran out.

Julian walked over to the table.

Without a word, he picked up my half-eaten plate and dumped it straight into the trash can.

It made a heavy, dull thud.

"This is your punishment. If you can't keep your word, it won't be as simple as losing a meal next time."

"Maya, if everyone had no principles like you, the world would be in chaos."

He spoke as if he were stating an absolute law of the universe.

I watched the grease stain spread on the trash bag.

He turned toward his study.

"I haven't forgiven you tonight. Don't be late tomorrow."

"Julian," I called out.

"The breakup I mentioned earlier? I meant it."