C4 My Ruined Husband

At six the next morning, Nora found Julian in the kitchen trying to open a bag of coffee with one hand. His cane leaned against the cabinet. The other hand held the bag while he worked at the seal with an expression far too serious for the task.

"You're losing," she said.

He looked over. "Good morning to you too." The driver had taken Nora to her apartment the night before. She had returned with two suitcases, her laptop, and enough sleep to make six o'clock feel personally insulting.

She reached past Julian, took the coffee bag, and tore it open. He stared at her.

"You're welcome."

Julian took the opened bag from her. "I had it."

"Clearly."

The corner of his mouth moved before he turned to the machine. Without the wedding suit and cameras, he looked younger. His white shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled above his wrists. Nora caught herself noticing and immediately became very interested in finding a clean cup.

Julian glanced at her clothes. "You're going to work?"

"I still have a job."

Julian leaned against the counter. "You got married yesterday."

"I wasn't scheduled for that."

This time the smile was unmistakable. Nora pointed at him with the cup. "There. You do know how."

He looked at her. "How what?"

"Never mind."

She opened the refrigerator. It was stocked like an ordinary refrigerator, which somehow surprised her. Eggs. Milk. Fruit. A container with half a lemon wrapped in plastic.

The house had done that to her since she arrived. It was large enough to get lost in, but it lacked the constant performance she expected from rich people in magazines. No staff appeared every time a door opened. No one had unpacked her suitcases. Julian had made his own coffee badly.

"I'll buy groceries for myself," she said.

He looked at the open refrigerator. "Did something happen to mine?"

"No. I mean while I'm staying here. Food, toiletries, things like that."

"Nora." He set a mug beneath the machine. "Use the eggs."

"I can afford eggs."

"I believe you," he said.

She waited. He waited too.

"That was easier than the argument I expected," she admitted.

"I learned from yesterday," he said.

"Already?"

He lifted his mug. "Don't sound so surprised."

She poured herself coffee. "Fine. If I use something expensive, I'm replacing it."

"You can spend the next six months auditing my refrigerator if it makes you happy."

She considered the shelves. "It might."

His phone rang. He checked the screen. The smile vanished before he answered.

"No. Hold the Riverside sale."

Nora stopped stirring milk into her cup. Julian listened, eyes on the counter.

"The revised price is worse. I saw the summary last night." Another pause. "Send the full figures. Don't sign anything before I review them."

Whoever was on the other end spoke for several seconds.

"Bring them here this evening."

He ended the call and reached for his coffee. Nora took a bite of toast. Chewed. Swallowed.

"Work?"

"Yes," he said.

"Vale Group work?"

Julian gave her a look over his cup.

"I'm making conversation," she said.

He took a drink. "Badly."

"Marcus is acting CEO."

Julian nodded. "He is."

"And someone still calls you at breakfast before selling a property."

Julian picked up his cane. "Your driver will be here in ten minutes." He started toward the hall before she could ask anything else. Nora let him go.

"I can take the train."

Rain struck the kitchen window hard enough to make the glass rattle. Nora looked outside, then at Julian. He had the sense not to smile.

"Fine. The car."

She took her toast with her before he could enjoy the victory. The audit firm occupied two floors of an office building in central Creston City. By nine, she had three client emails open, a spreadsheet that refused to reconcile, and a strong intention not to think about her husband. At twelve-thirty she searched Vale Group.

She told herself it was professional curiosity, which did not make opening the leadership page feel any less nosy. The leadership page put Marcus Vale at the top under ACTING CEO. Julian's name appeared farther down with a short note about stepping away from daily management after his accident. Nora clicked through recent company news while eating noodles at her desk.

Marcus appeared everywhere. Groundbreaking photographs. Investor meetings. A charity dinner. Riverside was mentioned in two articles about an old hotel property the company had been considering selling.

Julian was absent from both. One business report described his current role as limited. Nora reread the sentence, then remembered his voice that morning: Don't sign anything before I review them. Maybe "limited" still included veto power. Families like the Vales probably had titles and share arrangements complicated enough to keep an audit team employed for a month.

She closed the page and went back to work. By seven, she had almost convinced herself the phone call was ordinary. A black sedan sat near the entrance when she got home. Inside, voices carried from the hall. Julian stood outside his study with a thick folder in his hand. The man facing him wore a dark suit and the exhausted look of someone who had come directly from an office.

Nora recognized him before she remembered why. His photograph had been three places to the right of Marcus on the Vale Group leadership page. The chief financial officer.

He opened the folder. "We changed the payment schedule and pushed the price as far as they will take it." Julian read the first page.

"We need an answer before tomorrow's meeting," the CFO added.

"How much did they move on the deposit?"

The CFO answered, "Two points."

"Not enough." Julian turned a page. "What about the environmental holdback?"

"They won't remove it."

Julian turned another page. "Then the price still doesn't work."

The CFO nodded, not arguing. "Do you want us to walk?"

"Let me finish the figures first. I'll call you before ten."

Only then did the man notice Nora by the entrance.

"Mrs. Vale." He straightened. "Good evening."

"Good evening."

He turned back to Julian. "I'll keep the team available."

"Do that."

The CFO left. Nora listened to the front door close behind him. Julian tucked the folder under one arm and looked at her. "You're late."

She glanced at the Vale Group logo embossed on the cover.

"Apparently someone had a spreadsheet emergency."

His gaze followed hers to the folder. Nora waited for an explanation. He started toward the study.

"I'll be done by ten," he said.

Nora set down her bag and pulled out her phone. The Vale Group leadership page was still open from lunch. She found the line describing Julian's role as limited and read it again while the study door closed.