Too Late to Love Me

Julian's hands went still. He gave nothing away.

"Go take a bath," he said gently, just as he always did.

Vivienne passed him her coat without attempting a conversation. They had never spoken like an ordinary married couple. She went straight to the bathroom, then to her study, where Julian had already placed a mug of warm milk on her desk.

Every day followed the same script. Every detail was perfect, except for the one thing a marriage needed: affection.

Julian took her coat toward their bedroom to have it pressed. Something in the pocket caught against his arm. He pulled out an airline ticket and a man's tie.

"Do you still need these?" he asked.

Vivienne glanced up. After a few seconds, she said, "Throw them away."

The tie looked expensive, but Julian didn't ask questions. He nodded, returned to the bedroom, and opened a storage cabinet instead of the trash can. It was packed with beautifully wrapped gift boxes and a thick stack of plane tickets. He added these two items to the collection without thinking.

He knew what they meant. Vivienne had flown overseas to see Elliot Vale. She had bought every gift for Elliot, only to bring it home unopened because, for one reason or another, she hadn't been able to give it to him.

Julian closed his eyes.

Vivienne Sterling was the golden girl of Larkmoor high society: brilliant, accomplished, born into money. Julian had secretly loved her since childhood. When the Sterling family approached the Harts about a strategic marriage three years earlier, he'd said yes without hesitation.

He had devoted himself to being the perfect husband, even knowing another man occupied her heart.

Elliot Vale. Her childhood sweetheart, an accomplished pianist. She had loved him for years without ever confessing. In college, she'd been ready to tell him until Elliot announced that he wanted them to remain best friends forever, with nothing between them ever changing.

She'd swallowed her confession. Apparently even Vivienne Sterling could feel insecure in love.

After graduation, Elliot moved abroad. The Sterlings arranged her marriage to Julian.

Julian stared into the cabinet. He had counted the tickets so many times that he knew the number by heart: ninety-nine. Ninety-nine trips abroad to see Elliot. Ninety-nine gifts bought in the hope that she might finally declare her love.

Three years into their marriage, she was still waiting for Elliot. And Julian was still waiting for her.

How long could he keep watering a seed that refused to grow?

He closed the cabinet and went to bed alone.

At dawn, the routine began again. Julian got up to prepare breakfast. This morning, though, Vivienne came downstairs at seven thirty, much earlier than usual.

"Where did you put my things?" she demanded.

He had no idea what she meant. He'd found only the ticket and tie. But if something could make the usually unshakable Vivienne this frantic, there was only one explanation. Elliot must have given her something else.

"The suit had an ink stain," Julian said, flustered. "I threw it away."

Vivienne couldn't stand dirty clothes. Normally she discarded anything badly stained.

Now her expression turned glacial. "Who gave you permission to throw away my belongings?"

In three years, he'd never seen her lose her temper. They weren't close, but they had always been courteous. At last, emotion broke through her composed face. It was fury.

"Where did you throw it?"

Julian went pale. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. The trash was collected just now, so it's probably at the dump by now—"

Before he could finish, she spun around and rushed out.