Chapter 4

"Yes," I nodded.

A relieved breath escaped him, though a flicker of guilt still crossed his face. He reached for my hand.

"Vesper, you're always so understanding. I knew I could count on you."

The second his fingers brushed my wrist, I pulled my hand back.

Julian froze. "You...?"

His phone buzzed with a string of new messages from Elodie.

"Julian, hurry! It really hurts!"

"I'm so scared by myself."

"You promised you'd protect me."

Julian glanced at his phone and started to panic.

"I have to go," he said, rushing to the bedroom. "Elodie can't handle this alone."

Five minutes later, he came out with a suitcase.

"Vesper, I'll go to the new pack and get everything settled. You just come straight over when you're done packing."

"Okay."

Julian got to the door, then turned back. "Vesper, I love you. We'll be together again soon."

I looked at him and said nothing.

The door closed, and the apartment fell into a dead silence.

I continued packing, my movements robotic and calm.

The next morning, a notification popped up on my phone. Elodie's new social media post.

It was a photo.

Julian, wearing an apron, busy in a kitchen.

The table was set with a beautifully roasted leg of venison and all sorts of side dishes.

The caption: "It feels so good to be taken care of. I'm so lucky to have a mate who can cook like this."

I stared at the picture, and my heart felt like it had been slammed against a wall.

My mind went back to a winter three years ago.

I was working on a gene-modification experiment and accidentally exposed myself to a trace amount of silver dust.

Wolves are naturally sensitive to silver. Even a tiny bit is poison.

I had a fever for two days and couldn't eat anything.

"Julian, can you make me some herbal broth?" I asked, weak in my bed. "The recipe my grandmother taught you."

"Vesper, I'm busy right now," Julian answered without looking up. "Just eat something else."

"But I can't keep anything down," my voice was faint. "Just one bowl, please?"

"Later. I'm dealing with something important."

Then he stepped outside, pacing the garden for forty minutes while he took a call.

Through the window, I saw him talking to Elodie, his expression soft, smiling occasionally.

"Elodie, you're having trouble at work? Don't worry, I'll help you figure it out."

"The pack politics over there are complicated, let me break it down for you..."

Forty minutes later, he came back inside and tossed a few boxes of instant soup from the convenience store onto the bed.

"Have this for now. I really don't have time."

I stared at the cheap, processed food, my heart turning to ash.

And now, for Elodie, he was personally cooking a gourmet roasted venison.

So he knew how to cook.

He just didn't want to cook for me.

For the next month, I handled the end of our ten-year life together like a business transaction.

Dividing the property, transferring the shares, separating the bank accounts.

I signed every document without hesitation.

I packed up all of Julian's personal belongings and shipped them to him.

Including the photos I once treasured.

On day 28, Julian called.

"Vesper! When are you getting here?" he asked, his voice excited. "Elodie is so excited to meet you. She said she hopes you can teach her how to make Venison Antler Rice. It's her favorite."

Venison Antler Rice.

A traditional Silver Crest dish. It's complicated, and takes six hours to stew.

"I don't know how," I said flatly.

"What? How could you not know? Didn't your grandmother teach you?"

"I forgot."

Julian's tone turned sour. "Vesper, don't be like that. Elodie isn't well. What's the big deal with you helping her out a little?"

Help her out. The way I'd been helping him for ten years?

"Julian, my flight is tomorrow," I said, ignoring his question, and hung up.

Day 29. Neutral Zone Core City International Airport.

Thirty minutes before boarding, I got a voice message from Julian.

"Vesper, sorry, Elodie's wolf is suddenly unstable today, she can't come to pick you up. Just grab a cab to the house when you land. I sent you the address."

I listened to the message and replied with two words: "Doesn't matter."

Ten minutes later, he called me.

"Vesper, what's with the attitude?" he snapped. "Elodie is genuinely not feeling well. Don't be angry just because she can't pick you up."

"I'm not angry."

"Then what's with your tone? Do you have a problem with Elodie?"

I sat in the boarding area, watching the planes outside the window.

"Julian, I've been understanding for ten years. This is nothing new."

Silence on the other end.

He sighed, his voice softening. "Look, I'll make it up to you when you get here. I promise."

After hanging up, I leaned back in the chair and let out a long breath.

Ten years. In a few days, I would be home. And after the severing ceremony, it would all finally be over.

Finally, the boarding announcement came.

I grabbed my backpack and walked toward the gate.