Carter ran into the garden laughing. Nadia watched him chase butterflies. She felt her heart crack open. Inside the house were groceries. Clean clothes. Fresh sheets. A toothbrush. Soap. All simple. All thoughtful. That night Julian returned with paper bags of food. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt. No bodyguards. No suit.
“I brought fruit and a chicken,” he said. “And hibiscus tea. I remembered you liked it.”
Nadia blinked in surprise. “You remembered.”
He shrugged. “I listen.”
They stood in the small kitchen. Silence hung heavy.
“My lawyers filed the separation today,” Julian said. “The battle will be ugly. But you will be protected. You will have your own attorney. You will not face them alone.”
Nadia looked down. “I feel like a piece on a board I do not understand.”
Julian answered quietly. “You are not a piece. You are the reason the board is changing.”
A shout from outside interrupted them. Carter had tripped, then stood laughing with a small turtle in his hands.
“It fell but it did not break,” he announced proudly.
Nadia hugged him tight. “Just like us,” she whispered.
Julian laughed softly behind them. For a moment there was no war. Only sun and grass and a child’s joy.