chapter Two:
Nicole didn't sleep even after Julian's flight took off and the house settled into silence, she couldn't close her eyes. Not because she missed him, but because the moment he walked out that door, every nerve in her body told her something was wrong.
She sat at the edge of the bed, morning sun slanting across the cream carpet, her bare feet cold against the hardwood floor. Her phone buzzed on the dresser.
She could've been anywhere. Milan. Seoul. Paris. She'd had offers. Open doors. But she chose this. Chose him.
Nicole grabbed her purse and left the house cause she needs Camille.
---
Camille's apartment was smaller, but brighter. Books spilled off shelves, leafy plants tangled along the windows, and the scent of bergamot and patchouli lingered in the air like a memory. The moment the door opened, Nicole exhaled for the first time in hours.
"Girl," Camille said, pulling her into a hug. "You look like you've been ghosted by God."
Nicole let out a quiet laugh and hung up her coat. "You ever feel like something's wrong, but you can't name it yet?"
Camille's expression softened. She nodded toward the kitchen. "Coffee or wine?"
"Wine," Nicole said without hesitation, settling onto a stool at the island. "Definitely wine."
They sipped in silence. Camille didn't press, just watched, waiting.
"I'm scared I'm becoming one of those women," Nicole said finally, voice low.
Camille raised an eyebrow. "Define those."
"The kind who smiles while their husband rewrites the terms of their life behind their back."
Camille tilted her glass thoughtfully. "What happened?"
Nicole hesitated. "He's been... distant. Traveling more. Careful. Too careful. And not in the 'I'm planning a surprise party' way. It's more like... he's covering his tracks."
"Gut feeling?"
Nicole nodded slowly. "And my gut has never lied to me."
Camille stayed quiet for a moment. Then, softly, "Julian's always been smooth. But he used to look at you like you were the reason his lungs worked. Has that changed?"
Nicole looked down at her glass. "He says the right things. Still kisses my forehead. But it feels rehearsed. Like he's playing a part."
Camille tapped her fingers on the counter. "You think there's another woman?" Nicole didn't answer. She didn't have to.
"You remember Kendra?" Camille asked.
Nicole looked up. "His assistant?"
"She used to call you every other day. What happened to that?"
Nicole's shoulders stiffened. Kendra. The girl who used to trail Julian like a shadow. Then came the promotion, the silence, the growing gap she hadn't questioned until now.
"Maybe nothing. Maybe something," Camille said gently. "But you can't keep giving him the benefit of the doubt just because you love him. People hide sins in smiles every damn day."
Nicole didn't say a word, but she felt those words carve their way through her.
---
Back home, she curled up on the couch with her laptop balanced on her knees. If there was something to find, she would find it. Julian had trusted her with everything — passwords, bank accounts, even access to their shared drive where they kept everything from tax files to travel plans.
Except now, the folders looked... different.
There were new ones she hadn't seen before. One has caught her eye: Eden Estates.
Inside, there were floor plans, blueprints, digital renderings, and a moodboard of interiors — minimalist, expensive, curated down to the light fixtures. There was a projected build timeline, budget, and vendor list.
Nicole stared at the screen.
They weren't building a house. They hadn't even talked about it since last year, when Julian said they needed to wait until things were more stable. She'd let it go. Sold shares, closed deals, made sacrifices to support his dream.
But this wasn't their dream.
She opened the plans. Four bedrooms, an infinity pool, a wine cellar. Everything custom. It was stunning and expensive.
Her email pinged.
A receipt. A crystal chandelier. She recognized it — one she'd seen months ago while shopping with Camille. She'd hated it too. Julian had agreed at the time.
"It doesn't feel like us," he'd said. But he bought it.
Nicole's stomach tightened. She opened the full transaction log. More purchases; luxury linens, custom wallpapers,a mattress that cost more than her first car.
She sat back, heart pounding. Every item was dated within the last two weeks but none of it had been shipped to their home.
She looked around the room — at the life they'd built together. The books she'd picked, the frames she'd filled, the little mismatched mugs they fought over. She had poured herself into this place.
And he was building something new, without her.Or worse... with someone else.She closed the laptop, her fingers trembling now,Camille had been right.
Nicole sat there for a long time, the quiet pressing in from all sides.
Eventually, she looked down at her stomach — not round, not changed yet. But still, undeniably growing.