Chapter Three

Over the next week, the distance between Julian and me grew into an ocean.

True to his word or rather, true to Clara’s instructions Julian completely withdrew all physical support. When I struggled to reach heavy platters on the top shelf of the kitchen, he stood by and watched, reminding me that "stretching was good for my recovery." When I woke up gasping for air from a nightmare about the car crash, he didn't wrap me in his arms like he used to. Instead, he sat at the foot of the bed and recited a rigid breathing exercise Clara had printed out for him.

"Inhale for four seconds, hold for four, exhale for four," Julian said in a flat, clinical voice.

I sat against the headboard, sweating and trembling, staring at the man who used to hold me close and whisper that I was safe.

"I don't need a formula, Julian," I choked out, wiping tears from my face. "I just needed my husband."

Julian sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nora, Clara explained that giving you emotional comfort during an anxiety attack only reinforces the panic response. You have to regulate your own nervous system. You can't depend on me forever."

"You're right," I whispered, pulling the duvet over my knees. "I can't."

He didn't catch the double meaning in my words. He simply picked up his pillow and blanket. "I'll sleep in the guest room tonight so you can practice self-soothing."

After the bedroom door clicked shut, I reached under my pillow and pulled out my notebook.

*Day 22.*

My visa approval for the United Kingdom had arrived in my email hours earlier. Professor Vance had already secured an apartment for me near the design studio in Kensington. Everything was moving forward seamlessly.

The next afternoon, Julian announced that we were having dinner at an high-end French restaurant downtown to celebrate Clara’s clinic launch.

"I don't think I should go, Julian," I said, adjusting the lapels of my silk blouse. "It’s a formal event for Clara’s colleagues. I'll only be a distraction."

"Nora, you are coming," Julian said sternly. "Clara specifically invited you. She wants to see your progress. Plus, it’s high time you stopped hiding from society."

When we arrived at the restaurant, the atmosphere was lavish. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and soft piano music filled the air. Clara was the star of the night, wearing a backless red satin dress that commanded the attention of every guest in the room.

As soon as we walked in, Clara glided over to us, a bright, triumphant smile on her face.

"Julian! Nora! You made it!" Clara chimed, stepping close to Julian and resting her hand naturally on his forearm. "Julian, thank you so much for funding the clinical research wing. We couldn't have done it without your corporate grant."

"Anything for a worthy cause, Clara," Julian replied, his voice soft and full of admiration.

I watched Clara’s hand on Julian’s arm. Julian didn't pull away. In fact, he leaned in slightly as she spoke, completely oblivious to how inappropriate it appeared for a married man whose wife was standing right beside him.

"Nora," Clara turned to me, her eyes glittering with a subtle, sharp arrogance. "I noticed you’re wearing long trousers again. I thought we discussed stepping out of your comfort zone?"

"I dress for my own comfort and style, Clara," I said coldly. "Not for your clinical experiments."

Clara’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she gave a small, condescending laugh. "Oh, defensive mechanism. That's completely understandable for someone with your level of trauma."

A voice suddenly broke in from behind us.

"Trauma or not, Mrs. Vance happens to be dressed with impeccable elegance."

We all turned. Standing there was Marcus Hayes, the country's most renowned architectural mogul and the principal head of Hayes Global. Beside him stood Maya, looking stunning in an asymmetrical black gown.

"Mr. Hayes?" Julian blinked in surprise. Marcus Hayes was a man even Julian's conglomerate worked hard to impress.

Marcus ignored Julian completely and walked straight up to me, a warm, respectful smile on his face. "Nora! It is an absolute honor to see you again. Maya told me you were in town! I was just reviewing the blueprints for your old museum project in Chicago—absolute genius. The spatial geometry was years ahead of its time."

I smiled warmly, feeling a rush of pride that had been buried for years. "Thank you, Mr. Hayes. That project was very dear to me."

"We miss your brilliance in the industry, Nora," Marcus continued genuinely. "In fact, I heard rumors you might be returning to active practice soon. If you ever decide to take on projects locally or internationally, Hayes Global would be honored to partner with you."

Julian stood frozen, his brow furrowed. "Mr. Hayes... Nora hasn't worked in three years due to her physical disability and nerve damage. She isn't capable of taking on high-stress corporate projects."

Marcus turned his gaze onto Julian, his eyes cool and assessing. "Disability of the leg does not mean disability of the mind, Mr. Vance. Nora's brain is an architectural treasure. It’s a pity if those around her only see her limitations instead of her genius."

Clara’s face tightened. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, as a mental health professional, I always advise taking things slow—"

"With all due respect, Miss Clara," Maya interrupted smoothly, taking a champagne glass from a passing waiter's tray, "Nora was a global award winner while you were still studying basic psychology. She doesn't need to take things slow just because you diagnostic tools say so."

Clara's cheeks flushed crimson. Julian stepped forward, looking annoyed. "Maya, that was completely uncalled for. Clara is trying to help Nora."

"Is she?" Maya countered, raising an eyebrow. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like she's trying to keep Nora in a box while sitting on your arm."

"Maya, that's enough," Julian snapped, his face darkening.

"It's fine, Maya," I said softly, touching my friend's hand. I turned to Marcus. "Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Hayes. I assure you, my mind is clearer than ever."

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Julian remained visibly agitated. He kept casting glances at me, clearly unsettled by Marcus Hayes's high praise of my talents.

When we finally returned to the penthouse that night, Julian threw his car keys onto the foyer table with a loud clatter.

"What was that tonight, Nora?" Julian demanded, turning to face me. "You let your friend embarrass Clara in front of the entire venue!"

"Clara invited Maya's sharp response by overstepping her boundaries," I replied calmly, unfastening my earrings.

"Clara is a professional who cares about your recovery!" Julian shouted, losing his temper for the first time in months. "She spends her valuable time worrying about your mental health, and you treat her like an enemy! And what was Marcus Hayes talking about? Returning to practice? You can barely walk down the street without getting anxious!"

I stopped. I turned around and looked at Julian.

"Julian," I said, my voice eerily quiet. "Do you truly believe I am useless without you?"

Julian paused, breathing heavily. His tone softened slightly, but the overwhelming arrogance remained. "Nora, I didn't say you were useless. But let's be realistic. You saved my life, and I am forever bound to take care of you. I am your debt-collector and your provider. You cannot survive out in the real world on your own. You need me."

I stared at him. *You cannot survive out in the real world on your own.*

He really believed that. He believed I was a broken bird stuck in his golden cage forever, forced to endure his emotional emotional detachment and Clara's subtle humiliation because I had nowhere else to go.

"I see," I whispered.

I turned and walked toward the guest room.

"Where are you going?" Julian called out. "Our bedroom is this way."

"I'm sleeping in the guest room," I said without turning back. "I need to practice self-soothing. Isn't that what Clara advised?"

I closed the door, locked it, and pulled out my tablet.

I opened my flight reservation portal.

*Departure Date: October 14th. Seat 2B. Direct Flight to London.*

*Countdown: 21 days.*