27 Calls 2 Wristbands 1 Empty Anniversary Chapter 05
Chase was the first to react. He stepped forward, hands raised. Peacemaker mode.
“Alright, Julian. We came here to drink. Let’s not make this ugly.”
Maddie tugged at Julian’s sleeve. But the gleam in her eyes gave her away.
“Julian, stop fighting. Please.”
Julian glanced at the envelope. A cold smirk.
“Looks like Sophie’s the one making a scene. Really grown, haven’t you? Threatening me with divorce.”
He flipped through the papers. Smacked them back onto the table. His gaze locked onto me, icy.
“You even signed it.”
“You’re determined to force my hand. Is that it?”
I met his eyes. Calm. “I’m serious.”
A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You think you can go through with a divorce? You’re the one who threw yourself at me. Remember?”
Julian and I met in college.
He was the guy on campus. Untouchable. Harvard undergrad, Wharton MBA. His family had run a Wall Street asset management firm for a century.
I’d always been drawn to people who were brilliant. I grew up in an ordinary middle-class family in Ohio. My dad taught high school history. My mom taught elementary music. I got into NYU on scholarship.
Then came a campus competition. I ended up on his team by sheer chance.
Julian took the lead. Of course. I was nobody. Quiet. Did the work.
Watching him analyze tasks, map out plans—I fell. Hard.
After that, I chased him.
I engineered every “coincidental” meeting on campus. Just to make him notice me. Remember my name.
He was cold every single time. I didn’t care.
In four years of college, plenty of girls chased him.
All of them gave up eventually. That wall of his was too thick.
I was the only one who stayed.
My roommate Lauren always joked—if I put that kind of persistence into anything else, I’d be unstoppable. Why waste it on one guy?
I was naive back then. I figured if I could succeed at anything I put my mind to, then I could definitely win Julian over too.
Maybe the universe took pity on me.
Right before graduation, I ran into him on campus. Same routine. I wasn’t even hopeful anymore. I just wanted him to see me one last time. So he wouldn’t forget me after graduation.
I turned to leave. Julian called my name. Asked if I’d be his girlfriend. Said he knew how I felt.
For twenty-two-year-old me, it felt like the universe had dropped a miracle in my lap.
When he took my hand, it didn’t feel real.
I couldn’t believe I was actually with Julian.
Then we walked across campus. Everyone stared. Disbelief written all over their faces. That’s when it hit me. I was Julian’s girlfriend.
After we got together, not much changed. He was still distant, still cool. We just spent more time together. There was physical closeness.
But tenderness? Thoughtfulness? Almost none.
I told myself it was just his personality. I believed I could change him someday.
Then we got married. Maddie came home. And I learned the truth: Julian was capable of tenderness. Just not with me.
Maddie caught a cold. He drove her to the hospital, handled the paperwork himself. She said she was tired. He showed up at her apartment with takeout.
In two years of dating and five years of marriage, I could count on one hand the times he’d done anything like that for me.
Coachella finally snapped me awake.
Julian didn’t love me.
This marriage was over.
Someone in the room muttered under their breath. “She already signed. Doesn’t matter if she’s bluffing. All Julian has to do is sign, and it’s done.”
The words pulled me back.
I looked at Julian. My lips curved. The smile didn’t reach my eyes.
“That’s right. Sign, and everyone gets what they want.”
I paused. My gaze swept over the group behind him—the people who’d never once looked at me with respect. Maddie. Tripp. Chase. All those old-money friends who’d treated me like furniture for five years.
“Once it’s signed, send it to my assistant. After all—” I stopped. Made them wait. Then my eyes found Julian’s again. “Your parents made me sign that prenup. It’s still valid. I don’t want a cent of your money. So don’t bother stalling on the asset division.”
A crack appeared in Julian’s expression. The first real one.
I didn’t wait for his answer.
I turned. Pushed open the heavy wooden door. Left behind the sweet stench of perfume, the whispered mockery, and the man who’d spent five years grinding me into dust.
Manhattan’s night air hit my face. Early autumn. Cool.
Five years.
It was the first time I could really breathe.