The apartment was mine, a modest two-bedroom place I had bought before meeting Julian. He still maintained a separate condo near his office because he had planned to sell it after we found a larger house together. We had talked about officially moving him into my place while searching, but the arrangement had never become permanent. Even so, his shoes were in the hall closet, his favorite coffee mug sat above the sink and a garment bag from the wedding hung on the bedroom door.
Nina came inside with me. The flowers I had left in a vase before the wedding had begun to dry, their petals gathered in a dusty circle around the glass. Wedding cards lay in a small basket near the sofa, and a wrapped gift waited on the dining table beneath a ribbon someone had tied into the shape of a heart. The apartment looked like a woman had stepped out on a honeymoon and would return with a husband. I wanted to apologize to the rooms for disappointing them.
"Julian called me twice while you were gone," Nina said. "I didn't give him your flight details. He wanted to know whether we had changed the access to the studio's shared project drive."
I looked at her. "He asked that before he asked if I was coming home?"
"Yes."
I sat on the sofa with my suitcase beside my knees. I felt suddenly tired enough that even taking off my shoes seemed too complicated. Nina brought me water and sat across from me, the way she did when we were reviewing a difficult client brief and needed to say something neither of us wanted to hear.
"We need to be careful about the apartment," she said. "Nora said not to turn the locks into a confrontation. Julian has belongings here, and you two are legally married. Arrange a written time for him to collect what he needs, preferably with someone else present, and ask Nora about anything that touches occupancy or shared property."
I nodded. I was grateful she had already asked the questions my exhausted mind had not managed to form. The desire to protect myself was real, but I did not want to begin my separation by improvising legal risks or humiliating Julian for the sake of a story I could tell afterward. I wanted the truth to be enough without adding actions that would make it harder to distinguish accountability from revenge.
The front door opened before I could finish my water. Julian stepped inside carrying a small duffel bag and looking as though he had been prepared to find me in a completely different mood. He stopped when he saw Nina, then turned to me with a broad, practiced expression of relief. "Clara. You're home."
I stood slowly. "I am."
He dropped the duffel near the coat rack and moved toward me. I shifted to the side, and his embrace closed on empty air. The movement was small, but it changed his face. He looked toward Nina as if expecting her to explain why his wife had become suddenly difficult.
"Can we have a minute alone?" he asked her.
"Nina is staying," I said. "If there's something urgent, say it. Otherwise, we can arrange a time to talk with Nora present."