His sleeves were rolled up.

He looked tired.

But when he saw her, he immediately stepped aside.

"Grace."

She stopped.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then she said:

"You're still here."

Julian nodded.

"Yes."

"Why?"

He looked at her.

Then he answered honestly.

"Because I don't know where else to go."

Grace's heart tightened.

She looked away.

"Julian..."

He shook his head.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me."

She looked at him.

"Then what are you asking?"

Julian swallowed.

"Nothing."

He stepped back.

"I just wanted to say..."

He hesitated.

Then he said:

"I'm glad you're well."

Grace stared at him.

For a moment, she could not speak.

Then she nodded.

"Thank you."

She turned toward the counter.

Julian moved aside.

And for the first time, they stood in the same room without trying to hurt each other.

That evening, Grace sat on the porch.

She watched the ocean.

The wind was cold.

She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

Then she heard footsteps.

She turned.

Julian stood at the edge of the garden.

He held a paper bag.

Grace looked at him.

"What are you doing here?"

He stopped immediately.

"I was passing by."

She glanced at the bag.

"What's that?"

"Soup."

Grace blinked.

"Soup?"

He nodded.

"Margaret said you weren't eating enough."

Grace stared.

Then she laughed softly.

"Margaret talks too much."

Julian smiled faintly.

"Apparently."

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Grace looked at the bag.

"Thank you."

Julian placed it on the garden wall.

"I'll leave it here."

He turned.

Grace watched him.

Then she said:

"Julian."

He stopped.

She hesitated.

Then asked:

"Do you know how to cook?"

He looked back.

"No."

Grace raised an eyebrow.

"Then how did you make soup?"

Julian looked embarrassed.

"I didn't."

She laughed.

For the first time in months, she laughed with him.

And the sound nearly destroyed him.

Because he had forgotten how beautiful it was.

Grace opened the door.

"Come inside."

Julian froze.

She looked at him.

"Just for dinner."

His eyes widened.

"Are you sure?"

Grace nodded.

"But don't make me regret it."

Julian smiled.

"I won't."

He stepped inside.

The cottage was warm.

The kitchen smelled of lavender and fresh bread.

A small table stood beside the window.

Two chairs.

Two plates.

Two glasses.

Julian looked at the room.

Then at Grace.

"Thank you."

She looked away.

"Don't thank me yet."

She pointed toward the sink.

"Wash your hands."

Julian laughed softly.

"Yes, ma'am."

And for the first time in six months, he felt as though he had come home.

Dinner was awkward.

Julian burned the vegetables.

Grace overcooked the pasta.

They argued about the amount of salt.

And when Julian tried to open a bottle of wine, Grace stopped him.

"I'm pregnant."

He froze.

Then looked at the bottle.

"Right."

Grace smiled faintly.

"Water will do."

Julian nodded.

He poured two glasses.

Then he looked at her.

"How are you feeling?"

Grace hesitated.

"Tired."

He nodded.

"Anything else?"

She looked at him.

"Sometimes, I feel sick."

Julian's expression changed.

"Have you seen the doctor?"

Grace raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Julian."

He swallowed.

"Of course."

She watched him.

Then said:

"You don't have to look so frightened."

He looked at her.

"I'm not frightened."

Grace smiled.

"You're terrified."

Julian stared at his glass.

Then whispered:

"Yes."

She said nothing.

He continued.

"I've never been afraid of anything."

Grace looked at him.

"And now?"

He lifted his eyes.

"Now I'm afraid of being the man who hurts you again."

Grace's heart tightened.

For a moment, she wanted to reach for his hand.

But she didn't.

Instead, she said:

"Then don't be."

Julian nodded.

"I won't."

After dinner, Julian washed the dishes.

Grace stood beside the counter.

Watching him.

He was terrible at it.

He dropped a spoon.

Spilled water.

And nearly broke a glass.

She laughed.

He looked at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He smiled.

Then she said:

"You know, you used to have people do this for you."

Julian nodded.

"I know."

"And now?"

He looked at the sink.

"Now I understand why you liked it."

Grace frowned.

"Why?"

He turned toward her.

"Because it feels good to do something for someone you love."

She stared at him.

The words were simple.

But they were the first thing he had said in years that sounded like the truth.

When Julian left, Grace stood in the doorway.

He looked at her.

"Thank you for dinner."

She nodded.

"You're welcome."

He hesitated.

Then said:

"Can I come back?"

Grace looked at him.

Her heart pounded.

She thought about the past.

The loneliness.

The anger.

The years she had spent waiting.

Then she thought about the future.

The children.

The possibility of something different.

She swallowed.

"Not tomorrow."

Julian nodded.

"Of course."

"But..."

He looked up.

Grace's voice softened.

"Maybe next week."

Julian stared at her.

Then smiled.

A small, fragile smile.

"Next week."

He walked away.

And Grace closed the door.

But this time, she did not feel as though she were shutting him out.

She felt as though she were protecting something.

Something fragile.

Something new.

Something that might one day become love again.

Chapter 8: The Woman He Forgot to See

The following week, Julian arrived at the cottage carrying a small wooden box.

Grace opened the door.

She looked at it.

"What is that?"

Julian smiled faintly.

"Something I made."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You made something?"

"Yes."

"Should I be worried?"

He laughed softly.

"Probably."

Grace stepped aside.

"Come in."

Julian entered.

The cottage smelled of cinnamon.

A kettle hummed on the stove.

And on the table sat two cups of tea.

He looked at them.

Then at Grace.

"You're expecting me?"

She smiled.

"Don't get used to it."

Julian laughed.

For the first time, the sound came easily.

He placed the wooden box on the table.

Grace opened it.

Inside were two tiny wooden horses.

One white.

One brown.

Their edges were smooth.

Their manes were carved with delicate detail.

Grace stared.

"They're beautiful."

Julian looked embarrassed.

"My father taught me how to carve wood when I was a child."

She looked at him.

"You never told me that."

He nodded.

"I know."

Grace touched the white horse.

"Why these?"

Julian swallowed.

"I thought the children might like them."

Her eyes filled with tears.

For a moment, she could not speak.

Then she whispered:

"Thank you."

Julian looked at her.

And for the first time, he understood that the smallest gestures could carry the greatest weight.

Grace sat beside the window.

Julian sat across from her.

For several minutes, they talked about ordinary things.

The weather.

The clinic.

The bakery.

Then Grace looked at him.

"How is the company?"

Julian hesitated.

"Fine."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Fine?"

He nodded.

"I've stepped back."

Grace stared.

"What?"

Julian looked at her.

"I canceled the merger."

Her eyes widened.

"Julian, that deal was worth billions."

He nodded.

"I know."

"Why?"

He looked at her.

Then said:

"Because I realized I was building a life I didn't want to live."

Grace's throat tightened.

She looked away.

Julian continued.

"I don't expect you to come back."

She looked at him.

"I don't expect you to forgive me."

He swallowed.

"But I want to be there for the children."

Grace nodded.

"They deserve that."

Julian looked at her.

"And you?"

She hesitated.

Then whispered:

"I deserve more than what you gave me."

He closed his eyes.

"I know."

She looked at him.

"Do you?"

He opened his eyes.

"Yes."

He leaned forward.

"Grace, I can't change the past."

She said nothing.

"But I can change the man who made it."

The words hung between them.

Grace stared at him.

For a moment, she wanted to believe.

Then she whispered:

"Show me."

Julian nodded.

"I will."

That evening, Grace walked Julian to the door.

He stopped.

Then looked at her.

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded.

"What?"

He swallowed.

"Do you still love me?"

Grace froze.

The question was simple.

But the answer was not.