Part 3Ten Minutes to Grieve

When I got home, Julian was already back.

He saw me come in and took my bag from me. "What's in the box is for you."

Only then did I notice the long wooden box sitting in the entryway.

Inside was an out-of-print botanical guide with yellowed pages and my name custom-embossed on the cover.

It was the book I had wanted all through graduate school.

We had found it in a used bookstore once. I spent a long time leafing through it, but put it back because it was too expensive.

Julian said that once the company was steady, he would track a copy down for me.

My hand shook as I ran it over the cover. "You found it?"

"I had someone ship it from overseas." He pushed the book toward me. "Keep it if you like it."

I didn't take it. I looked up at him. "Why can Zoe reach you whenever she wants?"

He undid his cuff links and met my gaze. "Her father, Graham Whitmore, helped the company back then, and she's struggled with her mental health for years. I can't just turn my back on her."

"You said she wasn't in a good state, so you gave her the whole night. The day my grandmother was buried, I got ten minutes."

"Iris, you're not like her."

"How am I not? Julian, I want to hear you say it. Tell me what she is to you."

Julian looked at me for a moment, then reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "She's my responsibility. You're the only person I've ever seriously planned a future with, so there's no reason to compare yourself to her. She needs someone to look out for her. You don't."

I gripped the page, and the edge of the paper left a thin red line on my fingertip. "And if I said I need it too?"

"That's not who you are." He said it with certainty. "You're more mature than she is, and more level-headed."

"Do you love me for being level-headed, or for never being any trouble?"

Julian's jaw tightened. "Iris, stop turning every problem into a test of our relationship."

"Then tell me what counts as a problem."

He didn't answer. He set a key card on the table. "Zoe hasn't been doing well, so I put her in the guest apartment downstairs. She spirals when she's alone. When you're home you could sit and talk with her."

I looked at the card and didn't move for a long moment. "You've already decided?"

"It's temporary, and I'm the one who bought this place." He stopped, seeming to realize how harsh that sounded, and his voice softened again. "You're both women. Some things are easier to say to each other."

I closed the wooden box and pushed it back to him. "I don't want the book."

His eyebrows went up. "Haven't you always wanted it?"

I turned my head away from him. "I did before. Not now."

He looked at the book. His voice stayed flat. "You'd turn down even this because of Zoe?"

I said, "This isn't about the book."

His voice rose. "Then what exactly do you want me to do?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but the sudden ring of a phone cut me off.

Julian picked it up. Zoe's name was on the screen.

He glanced at me and walked out to the balcony to answer.

Before the glass door closed I heard him say quietly, "Don't be scared. I'm here."

I looked at his back and went to the bedroom.

That night, I logged in to the company system, transferred all my project access permissions to my assistant, and moved my savings out of the joint account and into my personal account.

By the time Julian came in, I had a small suitcase packed.

He looked it over. "Why did you pack so much?"

I said softly, "I want to get away for a bit."

He blinked, then laughed and pulled me in. "A trip sounds good. Tell me when you're heading back and I'll come get you."

I didn't answer. I slipped a document into the bid materials he was taking to the summit the next day.

It was a single page. Notice of Separation and Property Settlement.