Chapter 7: The Unopened Letter
Chapter 7: The Unopened Letter
The evening reception transitioned into a quiet, intimate gathering under a canopy of stars. The string quartet had packed up, replaced by the soft, rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below.
Julian stood near the edge of the stone terrace, a glass of sparkling water in his hand. The warm breeze pulled at his linen jacket. He looked out at the dark horizon, his mind remarkably quiet.
His phone buzzed softly in his pocket. It was a message from his lead attorney back in New York.
“Richard’s final appeal was denied by the federal circuit today. He also sent a letter to your old office address. Do you want it forwarded?”
Julian looked at the screen. The harsh, blue light illuminated his face in the dark.
Years ago, a message like that would have sent a spike of adrenaline, anger, or vindictive triumph through his veins. Now, there was nothing. No dramatic clenching of his jaw. No cinematic sigh. Just a profound, heavy indifference.
Aria stepped up beside him, wrapping a light cashmere shawl around her shoulders. She didn't ask what he was looking at. She simply rested her head against his arm.
Julian typed a two-word reply.
May you like
“Burn it.”
He locked the phone and slid it back into his pocket. He didn't tell Aria about the letter, not because he was keeping secrets, but because Richard no longer existed in their world. The past had completely lost its gravity. He wrapped his arm around his wife, pulling her closer, keeping his eyes entirely on the stars.
