My Ex-Boyfriend Regretted It After We Broke Up Chapter 2

I was busy in my Financial District office until noon.

I had an appointment with a real estate agent to view a new place. As I stepped into the elevator, I ran into Julian and Sienna.

Sienna’s hair was messy. Julian was tying it back into a ponytail for her, his movements gentler than he had ever been with me.

Seeing me, Sienna immediately put her hands on her hips, pouting as she tattled on him.

"Chloe! Perfect timing. Look at Jules. He keeps pulling my hair like some high school quarterback. He’s so annoying."

Before I could speak, Julian pinched the tip of Sienna’s nose affectionately.

"Hey kiddo, it’s just to make you look more energetic."

He teased her until she blushed, then finally showed me some mercy and looked my way.

"Chloe, since we’re all here, let’s grab lunch at the restaurant downstairs."

We had worked in different investment banks in the same Wall Street building for five years.

Julian had never once asked me to lunch during a workday.

Yet my Facebook was full of photos of "imaginary" lunches Julian had supposedly eaten with me—posts I made to keep up appearances.

I smiled politely.

"You two go ahead. I have things to do."

Julian wasn't expecting a rejection. His face darkened instantly.

The next second, the elevator shuddered violently. The lights went out. We were stuck in pitch darkness.

I turned on my phone’s flashlight. I saw Julian holding Sienna tight, whispering softly to calm her screaming.

Moments later, the backup power kicked in, and the elevator started moving again.

When we reached the lobby, Julian offered to have his driver drop me off.

Before I could answer, Sienna suddenly fainted—just like in a soap opera.

Julian didn't even look at me. He shoved me aside, scooped Sienna up in his arms, and sprinted toward his car to rush her to Mount Sinai Hospital.

I silently picked up my phone, which had been knocked out of my hand. The screen was shattered.

I called an Uber and went to see my new apartment.

That evening, Julian personally delivered a box of Ladurée macarons to my desk.

Thirty minutes earlier, I had seen Sienna’s new Instagram Story:

[Spoiled rotten. Sugar daddy bought too many desserts, I can't finish them all~]

The photo showed a table full of exquisite French pastries.

I thanked him but didn't open the beautiful box.

Julian looked confused. "Chloe, why are you being so polite? This is your favorite brand."

I didn't answer directly. "If there's nothing else, I need to go print some documents."

When I returned from the printer with my resignation letter, Julian was gone.

He left a yellow sticky note on my monitor.

It told me to come up to the penthouse office to find him when I was done.

I peeled off the sticky note and threw it, along with the expensive box of macarons, into the trash bin.

I walked into the partner’s office and formally resigned.

My boss tried to convince me to stay, but seeing my determination, he finally accepted the letter.

I just had to finish out this week, and then I could leave this building forever.

That night at 10 PM, Julian called me while I was at a bar with colleagues.

A male coworker, high on excitement and alcohol, accidentally answered my phone.

When I took the phone back, Julian’s tone was colder than a Boston winter.

"Chloe, where the hell are you this late?"

"Out," I replied.

"Send me your location. I’m coming to get you."

He hung up immediately.

I sent the location. I waited until the bar closed and the bartender started stacking chairs.

Julian never showed up.

I checked Sienna’s social media. Sure enough, there was a photo of her on an IV drip. The location was tagged at the hospital.

I called a cab home alone, washed up, and went to bed.

At 3 AM, Julian burst into the bedroom, smelling of the outside wind. He shook me awake roughly.

His voice was icy.

"Chloe, I’m hungry. Cook me a bowl of chicken noodle soup."

He didn't like soup. He hated noodles. He only ate steak and salad.

I knew the person who wanted the soup was Sienna.

I tried to pull his hand away, but my fingers brushed against the gnarly burn scar on the back of his hand.

Years ago, during a frat house fire in college, Julian had saved me. If not for him, I would have been a charred corpse.

A bowl of soup for a life saved. It was a bargain.

Seeing that I didn't argue and just put on a hoodie to go to the kitchen, Julian grabbed my arm.

His voice held a rare note of hesitation.

"Maybe... maybe just wait until morning. Anyway..."

I cut him off, asking softly, "Besides noodles, does she want anything else? Jell-O? Crackers?"

Silence stretched between us. Julian let go of my hand.

"No," he said.