Chapter 3

Elena's POV

Julian stopped a few paces away, reaching out to touch Ethan's photograph.

"Elena, I'm doing this for your own good."

"We both need to look ahead."

I wrenched his hand away and stared at him coldly.

"Look ahead?"

"Like you? Cancel Ethan's grave one minute, and the next you're cradling someone else's child?"

Julian's brow creased.

"I told you, the grave was only because I want you to heal."

"If you don't want it, I'll withdraw the application. That's all."

He said it so lightly.

As if all he had to do was concede one small point, and this could be swept under the rug like every other argument before it.

I was about to speak when a baby's wail suddenly rose from behind me.

Julian turned around almost instantly.

I followed his gaze.

Camille stood a short distance away, holding the baby.

Her clothes were slightly disheveled, her eyes rimmed red.

"Julian, after you left the baby wouldn't stop crying. Nothing I do works."

He strode over, took off his jacket, and draped it around her shoulders.

Then he lifted his hand to touch her cold cheek, his expression softening instantly.

"Camille, the doctor said you're still recovering. You shouldn't be out in the cold."

The year Ethan died, I had wandered into the snow in a daze, looking for him.

When Julian found me, I was already numb with hypothermia.

His eyes were red, and he stripped off nearly every piece of clothing he had to wrap around me.

The look in his eyes then was the same one he was giving Camille now.

Camille shook her head softly and leaned her cheek into his palm.

"The baby and I just... missed you so much."

The moment she finished speaking, the infant in her arms reached out toward Julian.

He hesitated for only an instant before taking the baby.

He lowered his head, patting the small back with practiced ease, and the crying quickly subsided.

That look of tenderness — the last time I'd seen it was when Ethan was first born.

I stared at his hands.

Those same hands had just touched Ethan's cold photograph.

And now one was cupping another woman's cheek.

The other was cradling their child.

Camille spoke quietly.

"Ms. Ashford, I didn't mean to intrude."

She paused, her gaze drifting back to the baby in Julian's arms.

"He wouldn't settle down without Julian. I really had no choice."

Everything went still.

Julian's brow tightened slightly, but he didn't deny a word.

"Please leave."

My voice trembled, but it was unwavering.

Julian instinctively drew the baby closer to his chest.

"Elena, please. He's just a baby."

"If you're angry, be angry at me."

I laughed.

My mother said the child was innocent.

Now Julian held the baby tight against him, too.

As if any distress that child suffered would be my fault.

But what about my Ethan? What did he ever do wrong?

I looked at the baby in Julian's arms.

The emotions that had been churning inside me all evening suddenly went quiet.

I lifted my head.

"Julian."

"I want a divorce."

His hand, gently patting the baby's back, went rigid.

When he looked up, every trace of warmth was gone.

"Elena, I've told you many times."

"I will not agree to a divorce."