Noah’s internship turned into a real business almost overnight.
He and two classmates launched a design studio that somehow became profitable faster than anyone expected. He worked hard, earned well, and still insisted on cooking for me every day like domestic devotion was his favorite hobby in the world.
Every time I asked whether he was sure he wanted this kind of life, he looked offended.
“What’s wrong with taking care of my wife?”
“You’re not my husband.”
“Yet.”
He said it while chopping vegetables.
I nearly choked on my tea.
I rebuilt too.
My brand started taking shape. Slowly at first. Then all at once.
New formulas. New clients. New confidence.
North City became a scar instead of a wound.
So when I saw Ethan downstairs outside my building one evening, I wasn’t surprised.
He’d refused to sign the divorce papers for weeks. My lawyer kept warning me he’d drag it out if he could.
He looked thinner.
Much thinner.
The second he saw me, his eyes turned red.
“Sophia,” he said. “How have you been?”
I spread my arms and turned once, letting him see me fully.
“Amazing.”
It was true.
He smiled bitterly.
Then came the nostalgia. The grief. The version of him that always arrived too late.
“When I had nothing,” he said, “you were the one who stayed with me and built everything with me.”
I folded my arms. “And then you nearly destroyed me for another woman.”
He stepped forward quickly, reaching for my hand.
I moved before he could touch me.
“It’s not like that,” he said. “I love you. I always loved you. What I felt for Lila was responsibility.”
That was so disgusting I almost applauded.
Right then the building door burst open and Noah came out still wearing an apron.
He must have heard Ethan’s voice through the intercom.
In seconds he was between us.
“Back off.”
Ethan looked at him and went cold.
Then he laughed once, ugly and bitter. “You think Sophia really loves you? You’re just new. That’s all. We’ve known each other for ten years. Nobody can separate us.”
Noah’s eyes flashed.
Then he punched him.
Hard.
I actually blinked.
Ethan, half-starved and sleep-deprived, had no chance. Noah dropped him to the ground in under a minute, pinned him flat, and kept cursing the whole time.
“You slept with another woman and still came here bothering her? Are you insane?”
People had started gathering.
I tugged Noah’s sleeve. “Enough.”
Security came to drag Ethan away.
He was still shouting when the doors closed behind him.
On the elevator up, I turned to Noah.
“What did you mean, you’ve known me longer than he has?”
He went very quiet.
The moment we got inside the apartment, I pushed him gently but firmly back against the wall.
“Talk.”
He looked unfairly good like that. Bigger now than when I’d first met him. Shirt stretched across his shoulders. Hair falling into his eyes. Mouth trying not to smile because he knew I was serious.
Then he gave me a date.
And an address.
My breath caught.
Ten years ago.
The summer after my college entrance exams, I stayed with my aunt for a couple of weeks in a small town before moving away.
I remembered the neighborhood.
The blackout.
The screaming from next door.
A tiny bruised boy opening the door.
I stared at him.
“You were the kid across the hall.”
He nodded and buried his face against my shoulder.
“That night,” he said into my shirt, “Lila was trying to get into my room.”
My whole body went cold.
Back then I’d thought a child was being beaten by adults. I’d cursed through the doorway, dragged him into my aunt’s apartment, and promised my police officer relatives would handle it.
I remembered asking his name.
I remembered him asking mine.
I just never knew that little boy had carried me with him all these years.
I held the back of his head and stroked his hair again and again.
We stayed like that a long time.
Then he lifted his face and asked, very softly, “So… do I get points for finding you again?”
I laughed through tears and kissed him until he forgot to be sad.