Chapter 3

A black-tier membership at this establishment couldn't be bought with money alone; it required high-society referrals.

The manager bowed nervously. "I am so sorry, Mr. Vance. I will ask this lady to leave immediately."

"Apologize to my girl first!" Julian snapped, his temper flaring.

The manager quickly turned to Zoe, bowing repeatedly.

"My sincerest apologies, Miss. I am so sorry for interrupting your evening. I will handle this right now."

Zoe tilted her chin proudly, giving me a smug, triumphant look.

So what if I was his lawful wife? She was the one who had his favor.

The manager turned to me with a cold face.

"Ma'am, the exit is that way. Please leave. And please refrain from harassing other guests in the future."

He stepped in front of me, gesturing firmly toward the doors.

Over his shoulder, I watched Julian wrap his arm around Zoe's waist, whispering comforting words to her, kissing her hair.

A long time ago, he used to comfort me like that.

Things really do change.

Chloe came looking for me after I had been gone too long. Seeing the manager trying to throw me out, she lost it. She whipped out her own VIP card and threw it right in his face.

"You think Julian Vance is the only member here? Do you have any idea who she is? She is that man’s legal wife!"

The manager panicked, sweating profusely.

"I am so sorry! I had no idea! But... Mr. Vance always comes here with Miss Zoe... we all assumed..."

They assumed Zoe was his partner.

Chloe was about to curse him out, but I caught her sleeve.

"Forget it, Chloe. It's not his fault."

Chloe’s eyes welled with tears. "Vivian, look at you! And that bastard Julian is still—"

"Don't talk about him," I whispered, cutting her off. "Let’s just eat. Please. After all..."

After all, my days were numbered. Every dinner with a friend was one fewer I had left.

Chloe hugged me tightly, breaking into quiet sobs.

I found myself wondering: when my funeral came, would Julian cry like this for me?

When that day arrived, Julian, would you regret everything you did today?

A week later, during a severe thunderstorm, I collapsed at home.

With poor blood flow, my body was giving out.

When the paramedics arrived, I hazily saw Julian’s silhouette through half-closed eyes.

His voice broke, terrified. "Don't sleep! Vivian, please don't sleep!"

Those words sounded so familiar. Years ago, when I took that bullet for him, he had screamed the exact same thing, begging me to stay awake.

Did Julian love me? Of course he did.

We grew up together. We were each other's longest companions.

When we were kids, a loud clap of spring thunder scared me so badly I jumped into his arms. That was how he learned about my deepest phobia.

"Afraid of a little thunder, scaredy-cat? Don't worry, I'm tough. I'll protect you."

He knew I feared storms, so every time the sky turned dark, he stayed by my side.

If the forecast called for thunderstorms, no matter how busy he was, he canceled everything just to sit with me through the night.

He promised me: "No matter where I am, if it storms, I will cross heaven and earth to be with you."

Because of that promise, I hadn't been afraid for a very long time.

Tonight was another storm. The terror of thunder kept me awake.

I sat in the dark living room waiting until midnight. But when the first boom of thunder cracked across the sky, Zoe posted a video on Ins—a multi-million-dollar private fireworks display celebrating her birthday.

In the glow of the fireworks, I caught Julian's familiar side profile.

This city was so vast. One half was drenched in rain and lightning, while the other was bathed in calm starlight.

Drowning in thunderclaps and an erratic, skyrocketing pulse, I collapsed inside my bedroom closet.