Outside the café, Julian held Niamh’s hand as they walked a good distance down the street before she finally slipped her hand free.
“What’s going on with you?” Niamh asked, sensing something was off with him.
Julian put his hands on his hips and looked at her, half exasperated, half concerned. “You’re asking me? Aren’t you allergic to pollen?”
Niamh blinked in surprise. “How did you know?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Ever since that bouquet of roses showed up, you’ve been sneezing non–stop. Stevie Wonder could’ve spotted it.”
Niamh couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, breathless sound.
She felt a strange mix of gratitude for Julian’s attentiveness and a bittersweet ache for her own obliviousness in her last relationship.
Julian said anyone could see she was allergic to pollen, but in the three years she’d dated and then married Jonathan, he’d never noticed. Without fail, every time they met, he brought her pink roses.
Because Marina liked them.
Because he was used to buying them for Marina.
Despite the summer heat, a chill ran through Niamh.
Jonathan wasn’t blind. He just didn’t love her.
She was the blind one.
Julian noticed Niamh’s face had gone pale, her eyes shiny as if she might cry. He fumbled for words, awkward and worried.
“Is–uh–your allergy really that bad? Are you still feeling sick?”
Niamh snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head. “No, I’m fine now…”
Even if something still hurt, it wasn’t her nose.
They walked together under a canopy of trees, Julian having chosen a path lined with nothing but leafy branches, no flowers in sight, just for her sake.
Niamh felt deeply touched by his thoughtfulness.
“I know I shouldn’t pry…” Julian began, treading carefully, “but I am curious. That guy
23:34
at the restaurant–what’s up with you two?”
He looked so hesitant, as if afraid to upset her.
“Is he Ms. Thornton’s boyfriend or something?”
“He’s my husband.”
For three long, silent seconds, time seemed to freeze. Then Julian practically shouted, “What?!”
Niamh saw the genuine shock on his face and managed a wry smile.
“Even you think Jonathan seems more like Marina’s boyfriend, right?” she said quietly.
That was the kind of thing anyone could see.
Julian didn’t say a word, afraid he’d put his foot in his mouth.
Niamh opened her mouth as if she had a thousand things to say, but none of the words came out. In the end, she just told Julian that she’d asked Jonathan for a divorce, but when she handed him the papers, he tore them up right in front of her.
“What is wrong with him?” Julian blurted. “He refuses to divorce you but cheats on you every day with Ms. Thornton? The guy’s a monster, seriously.”
Niamh didn’t have an answer. She no longer understood how Jonathan’s mind
worked.
She used to think she knew him inside and out, but after that chart, after Marina came back, after her pregnancy and miscarriage, she realized maybe she’d never really known him at all.
“I don’t know anymore. I just want out, that’s all…”
Seeing how troubled she looked, Julian took out his phone and shot off a message to someone he hadn’t reached out to in years.
“Hang on,” he said. “Let me see if I can help.”
Niamh tilted her head, puzzled, watching Julian fiddle with his phone. After a moment, he snapped his fingers, triumphant.
“Done! Wait for my news tomorrow, okay? I’ve got a friend at court, arranged to meet up with him. With your situation, it shouldn’t be too hard to sort out.”
“Thank you, really, but…” Niamh trailed off, touched by his kindness yet weighed down by her own worries.
