Page 55 of Sebastian.

My stomach sinks at her words, all of my mistakes crashing down on me. I drag a hand down my face, overcome. “Julia…fuck…are you seriously going to divorce me?”

A bitter laugh escapes her. “You really believed I was bluffing, huh? You didn't take me seriously, and you thought you could just play games with me. Well, Seb, I've had enough of bending over backward to make your life easier and for you to always get your way.”

My voice trembles as I try to hold back my emotions. I have so much to tell her, and no time to do so. “That doesn't answer my question. Is divorce really what you want?”

Her response is heavy with resignation. “You forced my hand on this. I’ve been a loyal wife to you for so many years, moved parts of my life around to fit yours at every turn, and when I really needed you, you abandoned me. You didn’t like Roxanne so much that getting back at her was worth burning our family to the ground.”

Struck by her words, I can’t even find any of my own, so I remain silent, while my wife speaks up again. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”

Taking a steadying breath, I push forward. “I know you have divorce papers ready for me to sign.”

I’m not sure without being able to see her, but I think her quick inhale indicates surprise. “Oh, I see news travel fast. Well, that’s good. There's less for me to explain, then.” My heart aches at the distance between us, but Julia presses on. “Are you available next week for us to discuss the settlement? I'm bringing my lawyer, so you might want to bring yours too.”

No! No, no, and no!My thoughts race as I pace the room. I can't shake the feeling that this might be the last chance to salvage something from the wreckage of our relationship, and if we’re stuck in the room with lawyers and no way to connect with one another, everything might be lost.

I lean against the bookshelf in the library, absorbing the weight of her words as they cut through the distance between us.

“This isn't you, Julia,” I blurt, unable to hold back how angry and upset this is all making me. “I'm sure it's your mom pushing you to do it. Let's talk without lawyers, please. I'm confident we can find a solution if you just give me a chance. Giveusa chance.”

Her tone remains sharp, but there's a hint of vulnerability in her words. “The solution was you coming to the wedding of our son, which you didn't, and went to get a lap dance instead.”

Guilt and regret twist in my chest, and I take a deep breath before responding. “I know! Fuck, Julia, don’t you think I know that? I hurt you, and I'm so damn sorry…I want to do better. I can be better! Can we just talk one last time face-to-face without lawyers?”

Her hesitation is so clear that I can almost see the look on her face, brows drawn together as she chews on her bottom lip. When she finally answers, I can sense the internal struggle in her voice. “I...I don't know, Seb...I think we've said pretty much everything.”

Desperation pushes me to make a final plea. “If you want to divorce me, fine. I'll sign the papers for you. But please, just give me one last chance to make it right. Just one.”

The silence that follows is heavy, and I hold my breath as I wait for her response. Finally, she lets out a sigh. With that, I’m sure she’ll oblige. “I will think about it…I…I've got to go now. Good evening, Sebastian.”

I shut my eyes tight, letting the last words fill my ears. I might just be imagining things, and it might just be wishful thinking, but I think that three little unspoken words hang in the air.

So, silently, I return the same unsaid words.I love you too. Then I exhale slowly, and say, “Good evening, Julia.”

As I hang up the phone, I'm left with a renewed determination to fight for what's left of our fractured connection. Julia feels farther from me than ever before, but I’m also more determined than I’ve ever been.

I can't shake the feeling that time is slipping through my fingers. With a heavy heart, I make my way to the ornate globe in the corner of the library.

Gently, I twist the globe, revealing a hidden compartment beneath. Inside lies a small, well-stocked bar. My fingers graze over the collection of spirits, and I choose a bottle of aged scotch. Pouring a generous double shot, I lift the glass to the light and watch the amber liquid catch the glow.

Taking the glass in hand, I walk to the window that overlooks the sprawling estate. The moonlight casts a soft glow over the gardens, and I find solace in the stillness of the night. Taking a sip of the scotch, its warmth spreads through me, providing a temporary reprieve from the turbulence that has just occurred.

I lean against the windowsill, gazing out at the expanse before me. Thoughts of Julia flood my mind—the way her eyes used to light up when she smiled, the sound of her laughter that could fill a room. I yearn for those moments, the connection we shared before everything unraveled.

My kids, too, occupy my thoughts. Hannah's budding independence, Joris and Aleida's boundless energy, and little Arthur's innocent curiosity—all reminders of the life we have built, the life that seems incomplete without Julia by my side.

When I take another sip, I imagine a different path, one where I prioritize my family over the business empire I’ve worked so hard on. I envision moments spent together, simple joys that have become elusive in the chaos of my ambitions. If Julia comes back, I would do things differently. I will change the way I've lived, the choices I've made, in a heartbeat.

The scotch warms my insides, but it can't dispel the ache in my chest. It’s an ache that longs for reconciliation. I down the rest of the drink anyway, the burn of the alcohol barely registering.

When a tiredness washes over me out of nowhere, I place the glass on a nearby table and turn away from the window. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, summoning the strength to face whatever lies ahead. My resolve is unwavering—I'll do whatever it takes to bring my family back together.

Whatever it takes, I tell myself, over and over.Whatever it takes.

17

Julia

It’s been hours,but the weight of the phone call is still pressing against my thoughts. I’ve picked up my iPhone so many times now, considering the idea of texting Sebastian a final answer, but never really going through with it. I suppose I just don’t know what to say.

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