"I don't need a bracelet," I said. "I needed to be asked."
He lowered the bag slowly. For the first time since we met at the airport, he looked genuinely offended rather than irritated. I realized that in Julian's understanding of love, generosity was what he gave after making the decision, while the right to participate in the decision remained his. He was willing to spend money to erase the harm, but not yet willing to admit how he had caused it.
"I married you yesterday," he said, voice sharpened by humiliation. "Doesn't that mean anything?"
"It means enough that I expected you to act like my husband today."
A waiter passed carrying a tray, and Julian waited until he was out of earshot. Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice into the tone he used in negotiations. "You are going to go home and tell everyone I ruined our honeymoon over nothing. Is that really how you want our marriage to begin?"
I looked at him for a long time. "I didn't ask you to bring Sofia. I didn't ask you to keep it secret. And I didn't ask you to come here and tell me my reaction is the problem."
His expression hardened. "You're being impossible."
"Maybe," I said. "But I'm still allowed to say no."
I turned toward the reception desk before I could undo my courage. Julian called my name once, sharply enough that a woman near the fountain glanced up. I kept walking until I reached the pathway to the villas. When Amara asked quietly whether everything was all right, I said that the conversation was finished and that I did not want another visit arranged. The kindness of being believed nearly made me cry again.
I spent the afternoon in the quiet shade of the villa, unable to read more than a few sentences at a time. Julian's visit had left me with the uneasy sense that I had escaped an argument without escaping the arrangement beneath it. He was already rehearsing the version he would tell our friends: his ambitious work had required a minor sacrifice, and his sensitive new wife had overreacted. In that version, Sofia could remain an innocent employee, Julian a hardworking husband, and I would become the sole obstacle to our happiness.
My own part in the story was more complicated than I wanted to admit. I had smiled at the airport instead of telling him I was hurt. I had often stayed quiet while decisions were made around me, then attempted to repair the consequences without forcing the original problem into the open. I could be angry with him for taking advantage of that habit and still recognize that I needed to change it, even if our marriage ended before I managed to learn how.
Late that evening, Nina sent me a message asking if I was awake. We had worked together long enough that she didn't use a question like that unless she had something difficult to say. I called her immediately and heard the sound of our studio's old printer in the background. She was at work despite having promised to rest after the wedding.