Zero Minutes

“Riley, this grief isn’t normal. This doesn’t align with what psychology says about recovering from a seven-year grief.”

Julian Stewart tilted the black umbrella forward slightly to shield my shoulders from the rain. He raised his left wrist, his gaze lingering on his custom watch for two seconds.

“What you just said lacks logic. Feudal superstitious concepts like hell shouldn’t appear in your emotional expressions.”

I looked at his cold, rational face, my fingers digging tightly into my palms.

He didn’t understand my sarcasm at all, or rather, he didn’t care. To him, I was merely a bug that had to be fixed for grieving on my sister’s death anniversary.

“Is that so? Maybe I’ve just been too tired lately.”

I uncurled my fingers, letting the rain wash away the pale marks left by my fingernails on my palms.

“Since you’re tired, you should strictly follow the schedule I set for you.”

Julian naturally wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His grip was neither too firm nor too light—just enough to keep me controlled under his umbrella.

“The temperature has dropped to fifty-seven degrees Fahrenheit. With your poor health, staying outdoors for another three minutes will increase your chances of catching a cold by forty percent.”

I said nothing. I merely stared at the photo of Chloe Hudson’s smiling face.

Seven years ago, when the news of the plane crash came, I fainted from crying multiple times. It was Julian who broke my every day down into minutes. What time to wake up, what time to eat, what time I was permitted to cry—everything was written into the schedule.

I used to think that was his way of holding the world together for me, but now I realize those minutes weren’t salvation—they were just a division of his time. While I was shoved into the gaps in his time, he was saving his actual life for another living person.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stewart, you’re here to visit your sister again this year.”

The cemetery caretaker walked over in a raincoat, holding a broom in his hand. He watched Julian shielding me from the rain, his eyes filled with emotion.

“It’s been seven years, yet Mr. Stewart frees up his time every year on this exact day to accompany you. There are very few young men these days who can do so much.”

Julian nodded and spoke, his tone polite yet distant. “I’m her husband. It’s the best I can do. Riley is emotionally fragile and requires companionship.”

After the caretaker left, the backup phone in Julian’s pocket vibrated. He didn’t step away from me and simply put the call on speaker.

My mother-in-law’s sharp voice came through, mixed with the sound of the rain. “Julian, why are you still there in that godforsaken place? The living are more important than the dead! Those at Southside are waiting for you. Don’t make the child wait!”

I turned to look at Julian. His expression remained unchanged as he raised his hand to check his watch.

“Mom, I know what I’m doing. We still have ninety seconds left in the cemetery.”

“You’re the only one who spoils her! Visiting a dead person year after year… Would visiting her for seven years bring her back to life?”

My mother-in-law, Jane Stewart, sneered on the other end before hanging up.

“That’s just Mom’s temper. Don’t take her words to heart.” Julian put his phone away, smoothly adjusted the collar of my trench coat, and added, “An important business partner has family in the Southside whom I need to pick up on the way. That’s part of my itinerary.”

Looking at his unbothered, honest eyes, I felt disgusted. Even when he lied, he covered it up with such flawless logic.

A business partner’s family. So that was the code name he gave my biological twin sister and his illegitimate son.

“Mr. Stewart, the car is warmed up.”

His assistant, Greg, walked up the steps under a black umbrella and handed over a dry tissue.

“You have twenty-five minutes until your next schedule. Traffic reports indicate slight congestion on the Southside freeway, so I suggest leaving immediately.”

Julian took the tissue and offered it to me. “Riley, clean your hands. It’s time for us to go.”

I didn’t take the tissue. Instead, I stuffed my mud-stained hands straight into my coat pockets.

“You go ahead. I’d like to stay with Chloe a little longer.”

Julian frowned. “This isn’t in today’s plan. When you’re feeling emotionally down, you need to keep warm, not stay in the rain.”

“I said, I’d like to stay a little longer.” I looked straight into his eyes and kept my tone calm.

He stared at me silently for a few seconds before sighing and compromising. “I’ll grant you an extra five minutes. In five minutes, Greg will send you to the car on time.”

With that, he turned around and walked down the steps, his leather shoes tapping rhythmically against the puddles.

Greg stood three steps away from me, like an emotionless countdown timer. “Ma’am, you have four minutes and thirty seconds remaining.”

I turned back around to face the cold tombstone once more.

“Chloe, your dear Julian is on his way to pick you up. I hope that in the toddler’s gym down in the Southside, he can keep time just as precisely.”