Chapter 3

In the days that followed, Lily began clearing the house.

Anything that was hers, she packed carefully into a suitcase.

Everything that couldn't be taken, she dropped into a trash bag.

It wasn't until she'd sorted through most of it that she remembered: she still owned a property.

A small flat in the old quarter of the city — a place soaked in every memory they'd ever made together. When Julian's business had finally taken off, he'd bought it and given it to her. "The place where our love began," he'd said. "I want to keep it for you. Always."

The love was gone. So was any reason to keep the flat.

She contacted a real estate agent and arranged to have the property listed.

After some back-and-forth, the agent asked her to come by to hand over a spare key and allow some photographs to be taken.

Lily agreed.

But when she arrived with the agent and unlocked that familiar door, she froze in the entrance.

Through the gap in the bedroom doorway — two entwined figures, very much occupied.

Julian. And Scarlett.

Scarlett's breathless voice drifted out: "Julian… why did you bring me here? This place is so old. The mattress is terrible…"

Julian's answer came between ragged breaths, low and rough: "Because this is where I started. Scarlett, I want you to be part of not just my future — but my past. All of it. So that every chapter of my life belongs to you."

Overwrite the past.

Lily stood in the doorway, looking through the crack with eyes that had gone cold, at a place that was once hers and now wasn't.

It was in that same tiny living room that they'd crammed onto a secondhand sofa together, borrowing DVDs, arguing about plot points, collapsing into laughter. It was in that cramped kitchen that she'd cooked for him for the first time, burning everything, and he'd eaten every bite and told her it was the best meal he'd ever had. It was in that bed — the one now making those sounds — that they'd held each other through so many cold nights, and he'd pressed his lips to her forehead and said, I'll get you the biggest house, the softest bed, just wait.

And Julian wanted Scarlett to overwrite all of that?

A sharp pain pierced her chest — the kind that drives a barbed spike inward, twisting and grinding through already-ruined flesh, until breathing becomes impossible.

Then the movement in the bedroom stopped.

Julian's voice, suddenly alert: "Who's out there?"

The door swung open.

Julian stood there in nothing but a loosely-belted bathrobe, a smear of red still visible on his chest. When he saw Lily standing in the centre of the room, his face changed — a flash of uncharacteristic dismay crossing his features.

"Lily? What are you doing here?"

Lily's gaze passed over him, then over Scarlett scrambling for a sheet behind him.

"You can bring Scarlett here," she said, voice barely steady, "so why can't I come?"

Julian went quiet, then caught himself, let irritation cover the embarrassment. "I just — it was impulse, we happened to be passing. It won't happen again."

Lily breathed in slowly, pressing down the ache.

"Don't worry about it. Do whatever you like, wherever you like." She stepped aside and gestured toward the real estate agent, who looked like she wanted to dissolve into the floorboards. "She just needs a moment to take some photos of the property."

The agent stared.

It was only then that Julian noticed the woman behind Lily — camera in hand, documents tucked under her arm.

His pupils contracted. "You're… selling? Why? This place means something. This is where we began. You can't just—"

Lily looked at him, finding the whole situation almost unbearably absurd.

Oh, you know it means something? Then why did you bring her here?

But her face gave nothing away. "So you're saying no?"

"Of course I am." His voice went hard. "This place matters to us."

"Alright." Lily met his eyes. "Then I'll give you a choice."

"My birthday is coming up. You've always said that day, at least, you'd give me some dignity."

"This year's gift: either I sell the flat — or you don't see Scarlett for three days."

"Your choice."

Julian stared at her.

He looked at Lily's quiet, resolute face, then back at Scarlett, who'd been watching from behind him with tears welling up.

Three days without seeing Scarlett? She depended on him so completely now. If he disappeared for three days, how much would she cry? How much would he miss her?

But the flat…

That flat was his history. The place he'd promised to preserve forever.

"Lily, come on…" He tried to soften his tone. "The flat means too much to both of us. As for Scarlett, I…"

"Choose." Lily's voice wasn't loud, but it carried the kind of quiet that doesn't allow for argument.

Julian looked into her eyes — two flat, dark pools without a trace of emotion — and that nameless dread inside him crested again.

He was suddenly and sharply aware that he was losing his grip on her. The thought made him restless. Made him waver, for just a moment.

But then Scarlett let out a small, tearful sound — Julian — and his mind was made up.

"…Fine." His voice was rough. He looked away. "Sell the flat."