The Fixer's Resignation Chapter 2

I packed everything quietly, walked out the revolving door, and got into his car.

The sweet perfume in the car was identical to Nia's.

I rolled down the window, letting the wind rush in.

The late autumn wind felt like dull knives on my face, but I felt no pain.

Julian rested his eyes in the back seat, his tone lazy and intimate.

"Done? As expected, no trouble you can't solve."

I laughed low. After a long time, I looked at the café seat where I had sat for ten years.

Then, I spoke softly, my voice devoid of emotion.

"Julian, let's get a divorce."

This was the first time in ten years I called him by his full name.

Usually, I called him Julian. In public, Mr. Sterling.

Since we were parting ways, I should be formal.

He froze, then smiled, tapping his finger on the file.

"Nora, stop it. The Gala is in three days. I plan to introduce you formally."

His voice was full of indulgent confidence.

"Is that sincere enough? We aren't like those flings."

Actually, the first time Julian said he would make me public, I believed him.

The second time, I hesitated.

But love pushed me to keep hoping.

I lost count of when I stopped believing him.

I turned and met his beautiful eyes.

Eyes I drowned in for ten years. No wonder so many girls fell for them.

But this time, I just smiled.

"I can't wait anymore. Ten years is too long."

I placed the two copies of the divorce agreement on his lap.

This time, I didn't look back.

Pain shot through my ankle. I stumbled.

My four-inch heels twisted, and I fell onto the cold ground.

My tight cashmere dress restricted me, making it hard to get up.

Rip. The hem tore.

I hissed and kicked off the torture devices.

Ten years.

Julian said he liked elegance, so I learned deportment and wore heels everywhere.

He liked clean hands, so I maintained my manicure while cooking for him.

He liked my hair up, so I never wore it down.

Ten years. 120 months. 3650 days.

I swallowed my grievances, thinking I was the exception. The miracle who made the prodigal son return.

I walked barefoot, memories flooding back.

It was the darkest winter of my life.

My father went bankrupt. Debt collectors blocked our door. Mom was in the hospital. Medical bills crushed me.

I worked days, studied nights in the hospital hallway, thin as paper.

The collectors found the hospital. They pushed me, demanding money, spitting in my face.

That was when I met Julian.

He stood before me in a tailored coat.

"How much does she owe?"

His aura silenced them. They named a figure.

Julian didn't bargain. He gestured to his assistant.

The assistant paid them off calmly.

He shielded me.

In that moment, the noise and despair were muted.

I looked at his back like it was the only light in the dark.

So when he said, "Nora, stay with me," I grabbed him like a lifeline.

I stayed for ten years.

I thought I found a safe harbor. I didn't know the storms of the next decade would come from him.

A familiar voice interrupted me.

"I knew you were here."

I turned. Julian stood under the streetlight.

He didn't speak. He picked me up and grabbed my shoes.

I froze, forgetting to struggle.

"We are divorced."

I whispered, reminding him, or myself.

"I know." He put me in the car.

"But you are still my employee. I need you to handle something."

"Nia is pregnant. Two months. The breakup contract is void."

As the engine started, he added, like ordering a secretary.

"Prepare a room. Pick her up next week."

I stared at the city lights blurring past.

When sadness hits its peak, you lose your voice.

Pressure crushed my chest. Breathing was hard.

He never took anyone to the penthouse by the river.

He said that was our home.

My nails dug into my palm. I remembered being pregnant at twenty-five. Shaking holding the test.

He glanced at it and said, "Get rid of it."

He said we weren't ready.

It wasn't that he didn't like kids. He just didn't like my kids.

Cold wind blew in. I closed my eyes.

Nia was right.

I really had to bring her back personally.