Page 109 of Unfaithful

The red-haired bartender glanced between us, eyes wide. "My God, there's two of you."

"I'll have what he's having," Julian said, flashing her a grin. She barely hesitated before rushing to the register to punch in his order.

A long pause settled between us before he finally spoke. "So... you're back."

"I'm back."

"For how long?"

"Initially, I planned to stay, but now I'm not so sure." And I didn't. But one thing was certain—I wasn't taking on dangerous jobs again. The last one had been enough of a nightmare to make me realize I valued my life a hell of a lot more than I used to.

"So, how was your deployment?" He switched topics.

"It was fine."

"We lost contact with you for two weeks. Mom was so worried her head was about to explode. We all got the short end of the stick and had to endure her wrath." He paused, his tone turning deeper, more serious. "Don't do that again."

"Okay," I said simply.

His burger and beer arrived, and we ate in silence.

Julian finished his burger, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and took a swig of his beer. Then, standing up, he casually informed the bartender, "He's paying."

But before leaving, he said, "It's Jeremy's birthday, and he invited us to his cabin café by the river tomorrow night. You should come too."

Then he added the words that made my heart skip a beat.

"Sara will be there. And she's been asking about you."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Sara

Life had been both great and a whirlwind for me. Exciting yet overwhelming, full of newfound independence but also uncertainty.

A lot had changed since the divorce.

One of the biggest changes was moving my company out of our previous building. The rent had been outrageous, something I could no longer justify or afford. Now, we had moved to a large, open-concept space on the outskirts of the city. It was practical, efficient, and exactly what we needed.

The only downside? My drive took much longer, and I no longer had a private office. The entire space was open except for the wall and door that separated the office from the reception area. While it fostered collaboration and made communication seamless, there were moments when I missed the solitude—missed having a door to close when I needed a moment to think, to breathe, to be alone with my thoughts.

With work, I was finally getting a handle on things. I was getting better at managing the company's finances and learning to be more strategic with the projects we took on.

There were limitations to being a small, independent company, and now, without the safety net we once had, every decision mattered. I had to be careful, ensuring that each project was worth the effort and resources we put into it.

There was no backup anymore. No cushion to fall on.

But despite the challenges, I felt a sense of accomplishment. This was mine. Something I built and sustained on my own.

In the beginning, Cole had supported me, even if he never admitted it outright. The steady stream of clients in those early days was proof of that. And the additional capital he contributed—beyond what we had originally agreed upon—had been a tremendous help. He labeled it a loan, likely because he knew I wouldn't accept it otherwise, but deep down, I knew that even if I never repaid it, he wouldn't press me. Still, I was determined to pay it back, even if it would take a long time to settle the full amount.

He had quietly ensured I had a strong foundation until I could stand on my own, build my reputation, and prove that I was the best at what I did.

Now, I was standing firmly on my own, and he had knowingly taken a step back.

Yet, he never completely gave up on trying to win me back. I knew that. His dedication and his quiet persistence made me lower my walls just a little. We had dinner together three times in the past few months, and I allowed him to visit me at work. Yet, despite all that, I still couldn't let him all the way in.

I remembered our last dinner.

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