After our reconciliation, my relationship with Julian Croft entered a strange period of calm.

I changed all the habits he once despised.


I no longer spent sleepless nights when he chatted too long with business partners. I stopped questioning him about every late-night meeting. I even ignored the occasional unfamiliar perfume on his shirts.

Just like now, when I found a lipstick in his Tesla's passenger compartment that clearly wasn't mine. Charlotte Tilbury in "Pillow Talk" – exactly the shade Sienna Vance always wore.

I simply took it out and placed it in the center console, even thoughtfully replacing the cap to keep it from rolling around.


Julian's face darkened. Without warning, he slammed the brakes and swerved onto the highway's shoulder. The tires screamed against the pavement as I lurched forward.

On his face – the one magazines called "Silicon Valley's sexiest brain" – weariness crept across his sharp features. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his usual dominance giving way to restlessness.


"That's Sienna's lipstick," he said, offering an explanation he would have once considered beneath him. "Last night's dinner with Mr. Vance ran late. I had to drive her home after discussing the merger. She's just a business partner, an investor's daughter. Nothing more."

He paused, clearly waiting for my questions or tears.

"Whether past, present, or future," he enunciated each word like reading a contract, "there will never be anything between us beyond business."

My silence seemed to unnerve him.

His composed mask cracked, revealing uncertainty he didn't even recognize. "Aurora, what do I need to do for you to believe me?"

"I do believe you," I calmly met his gaze. "And I'm not angry."

Like a punch landing on cotton, Julian's expression went blank.

"Then why haven't you said a word the entire drive?"

I glanced at my watch, calculating the time until my therapy appointment. "Didn't you once say you hate worthless small talk?"

"We're running late. Just drop me at the next intersection."

I just wanted to end this conversation, completely missing how Julian's face darkened.

"You always get off at the Starbucks two blocks from the office," his voice turned cold, his gaze dissecting me. "This is still two miles away. If not work, where exactly are you going this early?"

As suspicion clouded his eyes...

*Ding.*

A call notification lit up the console with a distinctive ringtone—Sienna Vance.

Julian's sharp gaze instantly softened. He unnaturally averted his eyes. "Work call. I need to take it."

He immediately dropped his suspicions and unlocked the door. "You can get out here."

I nodded and unbuckled my seatbelt. Before answering, he called after me.

"Don't rush," his voice softened, almost coaxing. "Watch where you're going."

He paused, gathering his thoughts.

"That Michelin three-star you've always wanted to try—Alinea—I made reservations. I promised I'd never miss another anniversary."

"Happy seventh anniversary, Aurora. See you tonight."

My hand froze on the door handle.

On our last anniversary, he'd abandoned me for Sienna.

The bone-deep pain I'd felt then now caused strangely no ripples in my heart.

"Take your call," I said softly. "Don't keep her waiting."

After all, Sienna's calls never could wait.

Neither could my therapist.

As for the anniversary...

This year, next year, every year after—I would be absent.