Chapter 4

My new job in London didn't leave me any time to be heartbroken.

Julian's company analyzed building energy use and climate data.

The team had only 20-odd people.

In the first week, I figured out he hadn't hired me because we knew each other in college.

He'd hired me because the supply chain models I'd built before actually worked.

In the second week, I got into a fight with the head of product over a data interface.

In the third week, our first client demo fell apart.

The model I was responsible for produced badly skewed results from the peak-period data.

In the client meeting, everyone was looking at me.

Back in Chicago, my first instinct would have been to call Ethan.

He was great in a crisis.

He'd call friends who knew the tech side and say, "Don't worry, I've got this."

Not anymore.

I had to handle it myself.

"The problem is in the validation step, and that's on me.

"I'll rerun the samples tonight and have a corrected version to you by noon tomorrow."

Julian didn't cover for me.

After the meeting, all he asked was, "Do you need two more people?"

"Yes."

"Send me the names."

We worked through the night, redoing the model.

The next day, the model ran clean.

The client didn't cancel the contract. They just pushed sign-off back a week.

I sat on the office carpet eating a cold sandwich and suddenly felt a little like crying.

Not because I felt wronged.

It was the first time I understood that making a mistake doesn't automatically cost you your job, your relationships, or the love of the people around you.

Julian sat down beside me.

"Thinking about going back to Chicago?"

"No."

"Thinking about your ex, then?"

"Not that either."

He nodded.

"Good."

I looked at him. "Do you really hate Ethan?"

Julian was quiet for two seconds.

"I did in college.

"No point now."

"Why did you hate him in college?"

He opened a bag of chips.

"Because he got your number before I did."

I froze.

He said it like it was just old news.

"Don't read anything into it. You picked him back then, so I stepped back.

"Liking someone doesn't give me the right to interfere in their love life."

Recovering the money taken from our joint account took more than three months.

I didn't get all of it back.

Legally, having a joint account didn't mean I could simply reverse every transfer.

Sarah recalculated everything based on our paycheck deposits, what we'd originally agreed on, and what the transfers had been for.

In the end, Ethan had to pay me back $59,000.

He dragged it out for two months.

Not because he didn't have the money.

Because he wanted to use it to force me to talk to him directly.

Sarah asked if I'd be willing to attend a mediation session by video.

I said yes.

When the call connected, I saw he'd lost a lot of weight.

The first thing he said wasn't about the money. "Where are you?"

"That's not relevant to this case."

"Claire, do you really have to talk to me like this?"

"I'm here today to talk about the account. That's it."

He couldn't hide how irritated he was.

"Olivia's going to pay the money back."

"That's between you and her.

"I'm only taking back what's mine."

Ethan looked at me and suddenly said, "I was going to propose that day."

"I know."

"You know?"

"I saw the ring box."

He couldn't say a word.

After a long silence, he asked, "If you knew, why did you still leave?"

For the first time, that question struck me as absurd.

"Because your engagement ring can't replace the one hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars.

"And it can't erase the fact that you chose her, over and over.

"Ethan, a proposal can't fix all our problems."

He went pale.

After the mediation, the money hit my account within a week.

I put part of it into a personal emergency fund.

I used the rest to rent a better place.

I used to feel like spending money on myself meant "putting our future on hold."

Only now did I see that my own security had always been part of that future.