25. Ivy
25
IVY
I curl up on Julian's luxurious couch, balancing his spare laptop on my knees while the scent of caramel and dark chocolate wafts from the kitchen. I couldn't find the one I usually use, but this was in his office, and I'm sure he won't mind.
The movie plays on the TV - some romantic comedy I've been meaning to watch - but my thoughts keep drifting to the treats cooling on the marble counter. Even scrolling through my socials doesn't distract me from the excitement I feel as I wait for Julian to come home.
Dark chocolate truffles with sea salt. Caramel-filled chocolates dusted with gold. Raspberry ganache squares topped with edible flowers. Each one crafted with precision, just the way Julian likes his world ordered.
In the kitchen, the chocolate tempering machine hums steadily. I spent an hour getting the temperature perfect, watching the digital display until it hit exactly 88.7 degrees. Julian's attention to detail must be rubbing off on me.
A smile tugs at my lips as I picture his reaction. He always maintains that controlled facade, but I've learned to read the subtle signs - the slight widening of his eyes, the curl to the edges of his lips, the way his features smooth and look almost gentle.
The movie continues playing, but I'm lost in thoughts of Julian's hands, how they'll feel trailing down my spine later. How his ice-blue eyes will darken when he tastes the truffles I made just for him. Hopefully the way he'll reward me. It's been two days since I've had him in any way, and that is like an eternity for him.
I shift on the couch, warmth spreading through my chest. The treats aren't just desserts - they're a message. Each carefully crafted piece says what I'm not ready to voice. That I care about him, I watch him, I want to please him.
Maybe I'll find a way to say I love him. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve after all.
A timer chimes from the kitchen. Time to finish the last batch. I pause the movie, setting aside the laptop as I head back to my sweet creations. The afternoon stretches ahead, full of possibilities and promises wrapped in chocolate.
As I come to sit back down on the couch, though, I see something pop up in the corner of the laptop. The number makes my stomach drop. I know those digits by heart - used to answer them at all hours, used to dread them lighting up my phone. Travis.
My feet carry me back to the couch before my mind catches up. The message preview hovers there, demanding attention.
We need to talk. Meet me at Gibson's. 8pm.
Ice spreads through my veins, replacing the warm contentment from moments ago. Of course he's still causing problems. That's what Travis does - he breaks things, creates chaos, then expects everyone else to clean up his mess.
I wonder if this is what was bothering him last night. Just the thought of Travis taking Julian's attention away from me makes me angry - angrier even than the cheating because I never wanted Travis as much as I want Julian.
I sink into the cushions, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Julian's been handling Travis, keeping him in check, but at what cost? How much time and energy has he wasted dealing with my ex's tantrums?
The laptop's soft glow illuminates my hands as I type out a response. Okay. See you there.
Delete. Type again. I'll be there.
My thumb grazes the send button. This isn't Julian's problem to solve anymore. Travis is my loose end, my responsibility. Julian's world operates on clean lines and clear boundaries - it's time I drew some of my own.
But it's still eight hours until then. And I don't want to wait. I want to handle this before Julian gets home. This time will be different. This time, I'm not the same person he used to manipulate.
I'm stronger now. Julian didn't just give me protection; he showed me what real strength looks like. And I'll handle Travis myself. No more hiding behind others, no more letting him disrupt my life - our life. It's time to end this, cleanly and finally.
I delete my previous response and type quickly. No. Now. Meet behind Gibson's in 20.
I dart to the door down the hall with all my thick, winter clothes. Once I'm dressed, I hurry to the elevator, my heart pounding like I'm going to be caught. My fingers tremble as I grab Julian's car keys from the crystal bowl by the door. The Aston Martin.
He never lets anyone drive it, but I don't know where the key is to my Prius. This will have to do. The leather of my boots squeaks against the marble floors as I hurry to the elevator, pulling my coat tight.
Guilt churns in my stomach as the elevator descends to the private garage. Julian's been giving me more freedom lately - leaving the elevator unlocked, letting me have his laptop whenever. He trusts me. And here I am, stealing his car to meet my ex.
Though not for reasons that should worry him.
The Aston Martin purrs to life. Its leather seats still hold Julian's woodsy scent, making my chest ache. I pull into traffic, wipers clearing the steady snowfall from the windshield. Michigan Avenue gleams with holiday lights, the afternoon sky already darkening to winter twilight.
At a red light, reality hits. I should have left a note. Something. Anything. The chocolate treats are still cooling in his kitchen, and he'll come home to an empty penthouse with no explanation. My hands clench the steering wheel. He might think I've run, abandoned him like everyone else in his life.
But I need to handle this myself. Every time Julian steps in to deal with Travis, it only makes things worse. The tension between them keeps building, and sooner or later someone's going to get hurt. I can't let that happen. Not because of me.
Besides, I'll be back before he even knows I'm gone. I just need to set the record straight with Travis, let him know that things are over and I am choosing Julian.
The snow thickens as I turn onto Rush Street. Other cars crawl along, their headlights creating halos in the white swirl. My heart pounds in my chest as my eyes dart around, almost like I'll be caught at any second. I have to keep reminding myself I'm not doing anything wrong.
I ease the Aston Martin into the alley behind Gibson's, the engine's purr echoing off brick walls. Snow drifts between the buildings, coating dumpsters and fire escapes in pristine white. The contrast between this grimy back lot and Julian's immaculate world makes my skin crawl.
Movement catches my eye - a figure emerging from behind a stack of produce boxes. Travis saunters toward the car, designer boots crunching in fresh snow. His smile stretches across his face, but it's all wrong. Where Julian's grins spark heat in my core, Travis's expression reminds me of a shark - too many teeth, no warmth reaching his eyes.
He raps his knuckles against my window. The sound makes me jump, and I hate myself for showing that weakness. His perfectly manicured beard doesn't hide the mean set of his jaw, and his green eyes gleam with something that turns my stomach.
"Well, look who's moving up in the world." His gaze slides over the Aston Martin. "Nice ride. Sugar daddy treating you well?"
The casual cruelty in his voice, the dismissive way he looks at me - it's so familiar it hurts. But now I see it for what it is: weakness masquerading as strength. Julian never needs to tear others down to feel powerful.
Travis leans closer, pressing his palm against my window. The gold signet ring on his finger catches the dim light - another inheritance he didn't earn. His smile widens, showing more teeth.
"Come on, baby. Roll down the window. We need to talk about your new... situation."