Five peaceful days passed in absolute silence. I slept better than I had in years. I rediscovered how nice it felt to make coffee without hearing complaints about the noise, and I reconnected with friends Julian had slowly isolated me from.

(by: best-food.ciifood.com/)

On the fifth evening, the intercom buzzed. It was Marcus at the front desk. “Chloe, Julian’s downstairs. He says he’s been trying to call you for days because he’s ‘ready to talk,’ but none of his calls are going through. He wants to come up.”

“Send him up, Marcus,” I replied calmly.

 

A moment later, the heavy oak door rattled with a familiar arrogant knock. I unlocked it and pulled the door open. Julian stood there adjusting his leather jacket, wearing the same smug, patronizing smirk of a man convinced he still held all the power. “Hey,” he said confidently while stepping forward as if he owned the place. “I think you’ve learned your lesson, and I’m finally ready to talk about our future…

Part 2

Julian tried walking past me into the foyer, but I stayed planted firmly in the doorway, blocking him. His smirk slipped slightly.

“What’s going on, Chloe? Let me in. It’s freezing out here.”

“You don’t live here anymore, Julian,” I said casually, resting my hands against the doorframe.

He laughed sharply in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Stop playing games. Look, I know you’re upset that I needed some space, but it was necessary for my mental health. You’re being dramatic.”