I don't sleep.At 6 AM I'm showered, dressed, and sitting at our kitchen island like I'm waiting for a job interview. Or an execution. I've made coffee in our fifteen hundred dollar espresso machine, the one Julian bought because it's what they use at his favorite café. My hands are steady as I pour. I've had four hours to get steady.Four hours to decide who I'm going to be when he walks through that door.The sun rises over our penthouse balcony, painting everything gold. It's objectively beautiful. I spent three years perfecting this space, this view, this life. Choosing the right shade of white for the walls. The right texture of linen for the curtains. Everything calibrated to reflect success, taste, arrival.I want to burn it all down.At 6:47, Julian appears. He's already dressed for work, charcoal suit, light blue shirt, no tie yet. He looks perfect. He always looks perfect. That's part of his power, I think. Looking like someone who couldn't possibly be doing anything wrong.
Last Updated : 2026-03-04 Read more