Chapter 138 - Final Papers, Fraying Patience
I stared at the cup Julian was offering me, hot cocoa steam rising between us like the ghost of what we once had. Six years of mornings flashed through my mind—sharing this exact drink in bed, in his car, at my design studio. It had been our thing.
"I don't accept drinks from strangers," I said, keeping my voice flat.
Julian's face fell, looking more haggard than I'd ever seen him. "Hazel, after everything—"
"Do you have the transfer documents?" I cut him off, glancing at the numbered ticket in his hand. We were still five numbers away from being called.
"Yes." He patted his briefcase weakly. "Everything's prepared."
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, putting as much distance between us as the crowded government center would allow. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everyone in an unflattering pallor. Julian looked particularly ghastly, his skin nearly translucent.
Not my problem anymore.
