The next day, parked just outside the courthouse, Julian sat in his Maybach, quietly tapping the steering wheel with his left hand.
“Julian, you and Elara have been married for a year now. Don’t you think it’s time to start planning for a baby?” An elderly voice drifted from the phone’s speaker.
Julian’s face softened, a trace of frustration flickering through, but his patience didn’t waver.
“Grandma, we’re still young. There’s no need to rush. You should focus on staying healthy.”
“What do you mean by ‘There’s no need to rush’?” The elderly voice of his grandmother, Beatrice Croft, rose in annoyance.
“Your condition might have improved, but we’re not getting any younger. We don’t know how much time we’ve got left.”
“Grandma…”
“Don’t give me that! I’ve heard things, Julian. Whatever’s going on, be good to Elara.”
Silence fell over the line for a few seconds.
“Julian, did you hear me?” the elder asked.
Julian rubbed his forehead in frustration. “I understand, Grandma.”
They exchanged a few more words before he ended the call.
Julian resumed tapping the steering wheel with his fingers, this time slower, more distracted. He stared through the windshield toward the courthouse.
He clenched his jaw. Then, he opened the messaging app on his phone.
His thumb hovered over a familiar profile picture–a simple floral image, tagged “My Love.” He skipped past it and opened the thread with Elara.
The last message he’d sent her simply reminded her of the time and place to meet for the divorce.
She still hadn’t shown up.
With a scowl, Julian sent a new message. “Where are you?”
A knock on the window followed almost instantly. He turned to see Elara standing outside, her face a little pale.
She opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat, giving him a blank look.
He hadn’t changed out of yesterday’s clothes–the same ones she had picked out for him.
Through the years, it had always been her–choosing his ties, picking his cologne, arranging every detail down to the fit of his tailored shirts and suits.
“Why are you late?” Julian asked.
Elara looked away.
“I’m not late,” she said quietly.
She was simply no longer the girl who would always arrive early and wait for him without thinking.
Julian’s fingers stilled against the wheel. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her.
Elara looked a little pale, maybe from a sleepless night after he mentioned the divorce last night.
Still, she looked fine.
“My grandma called earlier,” Julian muttered, looking away. “Don’t tell them about the divorce. They’re too old to handle something like that.”
Elara didn’t respond right away. Instead, she asked, “What did your grandma say?”
“She wants us to have a baby,” Julian said flatly, a flicker of irritation slipping into his voice.
Silence settled in the car.
After a while, Elara let out a small soft laugh.
Julian curled his hand into a fist and turned his face to the window.
There were moments when he used to imagine what their child might look like.
He remembered holding her from behind, pressing a hand gently over her belly, whispering, “Elara, when will you give me a baby?”
But it hadn’t happened.
Anyway, they could always remarry in six months and start planning for a baby. There would still be enough time.
Seraphina, however, only had six months left.
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