Chapter 14 - Julian Asked to See Me Without the Bandages
Six months after the launch, Julian asked for coffee.
I almost refused.
Then agreed.
Public place.
Daytime.
No lawyers.
For the first time since the explosion, I could see him.
Not perfectly.
My right eye had recovered usable vision.
The left remained significantly impaired.
Julian looked different from the man in my memory.
Thinner.
More gray.
Human.
That annoyed me.
Villains are easier when they look like villains.
He sat across from me.
“You can see me?”
“Enough.”
He smiled sadly.
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then:
“Cassandra’s hearing is next month.”
“I know.”
“I’m cooperating.”
“I know.”
“I’m not asking for anything.”
“Good.”
He looked down.
Then said:
“I keep thinking about the declaration.”
“The incapacity declaration?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“I signed it because I told myself you needed rest.”
I waited.
“But I think part of me wanted proof that I could still make decisions that mattered more than yours.”
That was new.
Not something I had told him.
Something he found himself.
“That sounds accurate.”
He laughed once.
“You’re still brutal.”
“No. Just finished editing reality for other people.”
He nodded.
Then:
“Do you hate me?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“I hate things you did.”
“Difference?”
“Yes.”
“Does it help?”
“Me? Yes.”
He looked toward the window.
“I don’t know who I am without Halcyon.”
“Then you should probably find out.”
“Do you know who you are?”
I thought about it.
“I’m finding out too.”
For years I was:
Inventor.
Founder.
Wife.
CEO.
Daughter of the man who protected Aurum.
Friend of Cassandra.
All labels tied to other people or institutions.
Now:
Scientist.
Mother to no one.
Wife no longer, soon.
Founder but not CEO.
Visually impaired.
Recovering.
Alive.
Strangely freer.
Then Julian asked:
“Did you ever think about taking me back?”
“No.”
The answer hurt him.
I saw it this time.
Actually saw it.
“Okay.”
“Did you expect something else?”
“No.”
He looked at his coffee.
“I think I wanted to know if becoming better could change the ending.”
“It can change your ending.”
“Not ours.”
“No.”
He nodded.
That was the final boundary.
No suspense.
No romantic uncertainty.
Our marriage was over.
The one open question in my life would need to be something more meaningful than whether betrayal could become romance again.
When we stood to leave, Julian said:
“I’m sorry you had to see me clearly.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
May you like
Then smiled slightly.
“I’m glad I finally did.”
