Julian came back that evening. He wasn't supposed to. They were separated in all but address, yet he kept returning to the penthouse like a ghost haunting his own life.
Nancy was on the balcony. The wind was howling tonight, whipping around the high-rise and masking the sound of the city below. She was holding her phone, staring at a food delivery app, trying to find something that wouldn't make her stomach turn.
Because of the wind and her own anxious thoughts, she didn't hear the glass door slide open.
"Who are you waiting for?"
Nancy jumped violently. Julian was standing right behind her. He snatched the phone from her hand before she could lock the screen.
He looked at the screen. It was just a menu for a noodle shop. But his eyes were wild, irrational.
"Is this why you were packing so fast?" he demanded. "Is there someone else?"
Nancy stared at him. "You asked for a divorce yesterday. Why do you care?"
"I care about my reputation," he snapped. "I won't have my wife running around with some low-life while we're still legally married."
He was jealous. It was absurd, but he was jealous. He looked at her with a possessiveness that made her skin prickle.
If he thought she was moving on... maybe he would let her go faster. Maybe he wouldn't look too closely at her changing body.
Nancy straightened her spine. She looked him in the eye.
"Yes," she said. "There is someone."
The air left the balcony. Julian's hand tightened around her phone until the plastic case groaned under the pressure.
"Who?" The word was a growl.
"His name is Jack," she lied. The name came from nowhere. "He's... nice. He listens to me. He doesn't treat me like a transaction."
Julian stepped closer. He crowded her against the railing. He was so angry he was vibrating.
"Jack," he mocked. "Does Jack shop at Walmart? Does he drive a Honda? Is that what you're worth, Nancy? Average?"
"He's kind," Nancy said, her voice shaking. "Something you wouldn't understand."
"Kindness doesn't pay the bills," Julian spat. "You think some mediocre nobody can give you what I gave you?"
"You gave me nothing but a checkbook and a cold shoulder!"
Julian grabbed her shoulders. His grip was bruising. For a second, she thought he might kiss her. His gaze dropped to her lips, hungry and furious.
The smell of his cigarette smoke hit her.
Her stomach lurched. The nausea was instantaneous and overwhelming.
Nancy shoved him away, hard. She clamped a hand over her mouth and ran for the bathroom inside.
Julian stumbled back. He watched her run. He didn't see a sick woman. He saw a woman repulsed by his touch.
"Fine!" he roared after her. "Go vomit! Am I that disgusting to you now?"
He kicked a terracotta pot near the door. It shattered, sending soil and shards across the deck.
Inside the bathroom, Nancy retched into the sink, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm taking the Hamptons house off the table!" Julian yelled through the door. "You and Jack can live in a box for all I care!"
Nancy rinsed her mouth. She looked at her reflection. Her lip was bleeding where she had bitten it.
"Good," she whispered. "Hate me. Please, just hate me."
She heard the front door slam.
She walked back out to the balcony. She knelt down and began to pick up the pieces of the shattered pot. A sharp edge sliced her finger. She watched the blood drip onto the dark soil, bright red and undeniable.
Later, in his car, Julian dialed his private investigator. "I want a name. Jack. Associated with Nancy. Check her call logs, her gym, everything." He stared at the phone. "If he exists, I want him buried." But deep down, the lack of any digital trail for a "Jack" in the preliminary reports his security team ran earlier gnawed at him. Was she lying? Or was she just hiding him that well?
