I finally wrapped up all the cancellation calls. Just as I was about to head home, Julian called.

His voice was hoarse. “Don’t announce the cancellation yet. We'll deal with the wedding later. Sienna's still unstable, and I don't want to upset her right now.”

He already had his counter-arguments ready, I was sure. He’d make me feel guilty, just like he always did.

But his words didn't faze me. I simply said, “Okay.”

A stunned silence followed. Even over the phone, he must have sensed the shift in me.

He knew I was fiercely protective of the tattoo we’d designed together, yet he had let Sienna erase it.

He’d thrown money at me to shut me up, a trick that had always worked before. This time, my quiet acceptance felt alien to him.

Julian licked his dry lips, his voice strained. “I know Sienna's behavior has been… difficult. I promise, I'll make sure she cooperates with her doctors and gets better.”

“Julian, the spa pool is ready, it's your turn!” Sienna's cheerful shout echoed through the phone.

Julian opened his mouth to explain, but I’d already hung up.

How ridiculous. Sienna’s file clearly stated she had borderline personality disorder, but she’d never once undergone proper treatment. Her only therapy was clinging to Julian, demanding his constant presence.

His promises were empty. He would never keep them.

At that thought, the last embers of warmth in my heart turned to ice. I began to pack up my life in the apartment we shared.

I didn't own many clothes; a few suitcases were enough.

But after six years in this penthouse, my presence was woven into its fabric.

On the nightstand, a photo of Julian and me. In the kitchen, my pink apron. In the bathroom, our matching toothbrush cups.

I packed everything that was mine and arranged for it to be put in storage. I took the photo from the nightstand and carefully cut myself out, leaving only Julian’s smiling face.

All the gifts he had ever given me, expensive or not, went into boxes. I even tore our first framed design sketch to shreds.

The wedding rings, once a symbol of eternal love, were sold. I donated the money to charity.

The weather in New York was turning colder. That night, I came down with a sudden, violent case of acute gastroenteritis, probably from a chill.

Living with Julian had taught me one thing: how to take care of myself.

Even as waves of dizziness and pain washed over me, I managed to call an ambulance.

I don't know when I fell asleep, or for how long.

When I woke up, Julian was by my bedside, his face etched with worry. He had rushed back from California. Sienna was nowhere in sight.

His voice was rough, but his concern felt real. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I called and you didn't answer. If the building manager hadn't called me, I wouldn't have known you were in the hospital. Were you trying to scare me to death?”

I smiled, but my eyes were like chips of ice. “What would have been the point? Weren't you busy with your precious Sienna?”

He was never there when I needed him. His care, his warmth—none of it was ever meant for me. In six years, I had learned to rely on myself.

Julian frowned. “Are you blaming me? I booked the first flight back as soon as I heard. What else do you want from me?”

I scoffed. “I don't need you here. I can take care of myself.”

Julian's heart sank. Is this the same woman who used to need me for everything?

He fell silent. Then his phone rang.

It was Sienna. I could hear her shrill, angry voice clearly.

“Julian, you left me all alone in Big Sur for her?!”

He glanced at me, pale against the white hospital sheets, and lowered his voice.

“Willow is sick, she’s in the hospital. We'll talk later.”

Sienna snorted. “She just had to get sick now? How convenient. Don't let her fool you, she's probably faking it!”

I heard every word. I swallowed my anger and just stared at Julian.

He frowned, but when he spoke, his tone was infuriatingly gentle, as always. “Don't worry. I'll come back as soon as she's discharged. Be good, okay?”