Chapter 9 - The Renter
Clara was trying to fix a leaky pipe under her kitchen sink when someone knocked on her cabin door. She wiped her hands on her jeans, assuming it was Elias checking on her again.
She opened the door and froze.
Julian Vance was standing on her porch. But he wasn't wearing an Armani suit. He was wearing a faded denim jacket, a plain white t-shirt, and work boots. He looked exactly like the twenty-three-year-old boy she had fallen in love with in the garage.
"What are you doing here?" Clara asked, her heart hammering aggressively against her ribs.
"I live here now," Julian said.
Clara blinked. "Excuse me?"
Julian pointed to the small, rundown cottage directly across the gravel road. "I rented the Miller place. Signed a six-month lease this morning."
Clara stared at him in utter disbelief. "Julian, you can't just move across the street from me! You have a billion-dollar company to run!"
"I resigned," he said plainly. "Three days ago. The board accepted it."
Clara’s mouth dropped open. Julian Vance stepping down from his own company was like the sun deciding not to rise. "You're lying."
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"Check the news," Julian said. He took a step back, respecting her space. "I'm not here to force you to come back to the city, Clara. I'm not here to buy your gallery or fix your life with a checkbook. I'm here because my wife is here. And I'm not leaving until you remember why you married me."
He gave her a small, respectful nod, turned around, and walked across the muddy road to his new, drafty cottage. Clara stood in the doorway for a full ten minutes, staring after him.
