I saw Julian again two weeks later.

At a café near his campus. Those days, he'd cut off all contact.

Finally, one of his students reached out to me.

"Mrs. Wright! Please come back, okay…?"

"The lab's been so tense lately, I thought the AC was broken."

"I swear, Professor Wright would never cheat. He's practically got 'not interested' written on his face. Flirting with him is like winking at a statue."

The student—a sweet kid named Ethan—had always been friendly to me.

I agreed to meet Julian. Not for reconciliation. Just to discuss logistics.

He was already there when I arrived. Sitting by the window, sleeves rolled to his elbows, staring at his coffee like it owed him money.

He looked thinner.

"You wanted to talk about the apartment?" I sat across from him.

"Claire."

"The apartment, Julian."

He exhaled. Pushed a folder toward me.

"I'm giving you everything. The apartment, both cars, the savings account."

I didn't open it. "I don't want your guilt offerings."

"It's not guilt. It's what you deserve."

"What I deserved was a husband who came home."

That landed. I watched it hit him—the flinch he couldn't hide.

"I know," he said quietly. "I know I wasn't… I got lost in the work. In the lab. In—"

"In Lily Evans?"

His eyes snapped to mine. "Nothing happened with Lily."

"Her hair tie was in your pocket."

"She put it there. I didn't notice until you found it." His voice was tight, controlled—the way it got when he was trying very hard not to lose his composure. "I should have handled it better. I should have told her to stay in her lane months ago."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because she's unstable. And I was trying to manage it without making it worse."

"And managing her was more important than managing us?"

He had no answer for that.

I stood up. "Split everything fifty-fifty. I don't want charity."

"Claire—"

"I'll have my lawyer contact yours."

I left without looking back. My hands were shaking the entire drive home.