Graham and I had known each other for ten years; he had always known my boundaries.
After so many years in this industry, he knew exactly how to maintain a professional distance from other women.
But now, he had repeatedly crossed that line.
In that case, our marriage was over. And so was the collaboration between Sterling Designs and the Aethelgard Tower project.
The Aethelgard Tower, which I designed for Sterling Designs, was a five-hundred-million-dollar contract that could have reshaped the company's future, but at this moment, that didn't matter anymore.
When I woke up the next morning, Graham hadn't sent a single message or made a single call.
I wasn't even angry anymore.
After my check-up confirmed nothing was seriously wrong, I went straight home—to the modern, ocean-view villa Graham and I had bought last year.
Seven years ago, when we had just graduated, we huddled in a tiny design studio, sharing a single sandwich.
Five years ago, when we got married, we were married in a small chapel and celebrated with a single cake.
Now, I was left to lick my wounds in this vast, empty house.
I figured I'd get used to it.
I was reviewing the divorce agreement sent by my lawyer when Graham finally came home.
He carried the cloying scent of an unfamiliar perfume. The smell was overpowering.
Graham had extremely sensitive skin and was allergic to most chemical fragrances. He despised perfume more than anything.
For his sake, I’d spent years avoiding scented lotions and picking my shampoo as carefully as I picked my design materials.
Apparently, that rule only applied to me.
When he saw me lying on the sofa with a tablet, he froze.
"Chloe drank a little too much celebrating her new tattoo last night and fell, so I took her home first. It got late, and her place is far, so I just found a hotel nearby. I didn't have time to pick you up from the hospital."
I nodded, scrolling through the documents on my tablet, and replied casually, "Okay, got it."
Graham opened his mouth but was momentarily speechless. My flat response clearly wasn't what he expected.
After a moment's hesitation, he stepped closer, his gaze lowered.
"It's Saturday, you shouldn't be working. I was planning to take Chloe to the cliffside resort in Big Sur. Do you want to come with us?"
Seven years ago, on my birthday, Graham and I had taken a photo together in front of a poster of the Big Sur coastline.
He had promised that once we secured the Aethelgard Tower project, he would take me to the real Big Sur and we would take the exact same picture in front of the cliffside hotel.
Later, the house got bigger and the company grew, but he just got busier. He would always soothe me with gentle words.
"Juliana, this is a critical time for the company. I can't just leave. You're the most understanding person I know. You get it, don't you?"
I did get it.
So I stopped mentioning Big Sur and threw myself into helping the company grow.
But when Chloe wanted to go, he somehow found the time.
I opened the next work email and replied in the same flat tone, "Three's a crowd. I'm not interested."
To my disgust, he quietly let out a sigh of relief.
"Alright. I just came back to grab a few things. You'll have to eat lunch by yourself. We'll have dinner together tonight."
"Also, Aethelgard Tower is our key to breaking into the international market. I've already invited the media for a press conference on Monday. Haven't you always wanted to stand by my side in public as the Chief Designer? Monday is your chance. Are you ready..."
