"When did you get up?"
"Just now. When you were texting him back."
She bent down to pick up her phone, the movement a little frantic. The second she had it, she pressed the power button. The screen went black.
"I wasn't planning to go see him."
"Then why won't you reply to him?"
"I was thinking about how to answer."
"Thinking about how to keep it from me?"
Julia lifted her head and looked at me, the whites of her eyes shot through with red. "Theodore, do you have to talk to me like this?"
"Then how do you want me to talk?" I set my water glass on the coffee table. "You say there's nothing between you and him, but he texts you in the middle of the night and you don't dare answer in front of me. You say the eight million was just a favor, but every post he puts up is thanking you. What am I supposed to think?"
Julia stood up, her voice dropping low. "We've been married three years. When have I ever lied to you?"
"You're lying to me right now."
She said nothing.
I looked into her eyes. "Julia, do you still love him?"
I waited a long time.
Long enough that I thought she wouldn't answer at all.
"I'm not that fickle," she said.
I laughed.
It was a brilliant answer. Not "I don't love him," but "I'm not that fickle." Meaning she had loved him, but didn't now. Or rather, didn't love him quite as much.
But you spend eight million buying back an old estate for a man you "don't love," you stay up half the night waiting for his messages, and that's called "not being fickle"?
I didn't call her out on it. I picked up my glass and went back to the bedroom.
Lying in bed, I heard movement in the living room. She was on the phone, her voice kept low, but I still caught a few words.
"...Keep the keys. I'm not coming."
"It's fine. Don't read too much into it."
"Get some rest."
After she hung up, the living room was quiet for a long while. Then I heard her footsteps come to the bedroom door, pause, and walk away again.
She didn't come in.
I barely slept. Just before dawn, I heard the door close. I got up to look. Julia's car was gone.
Where had she gone?
I checked my phone. Oliver Simmons had posted again, a voice clip this time. I played it.
Her voice had a sob in it. "Julie, are you really not coming? I want to see you."
Posted fifteen minutes ago.
Julia had been gone fifteen minutes.
I sat on the edge of the bed, and all at once it felt absurd. Three years married, and she had never once left in the morning without a word to me. Everything strange she did came back to Oliver.
The phone buzzed again. Not mine. Julia's other phone, the one she'd left behind.
I picked it up and looked.
Over twenty unread messages flashed on the screen, all from Oliver. The latest was a voice clip. I played it.
"Julie, I was the one who wronged you back then. I shouldn't have gone abroad. I regret it, I really do. You still care about me, don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have bought the old estate."
The clip ended, and right behind it came a text.
"Didn't you say the biggest regret of your life was not holding on to me? I'm back now. Can you... give me one more chance?"
I put the phone down.
The biggest regret of her life.
The day we married, during the wedding toast, she'd smiled and said one thing. "I have no regrets left in this life."
So that hadn't been true.
The doorbell rang.
I went over and opened it. A man stood outside, his eyes red.
Oliver.
He saw me and froze for a second, then forced out a smile. "Theo, is Julia home?"
"No."
"She promised to come help me look over the house today. I've been waiting a long time, and she won't pick up her phone." He glanced past me into the apartment. "Could I come in and wait for her?"
