My Husband Wants An Open Marriage (Julie and Ryan)
Open Billionaire 49

CHAPTER 049: U-turn

I can't explain how Luke's words make me feel. The only thing I can do is laugh and say, "What are you going to drive, then?"

He shrugs, coming closer. "Have you seen my driveway? I have a good number of options. I just prefer the Aston Martin because it's small and fast."

"Thank you for trusting me with it. I'll try not to wreck it."

"Please don't," he murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering. "And send your location as soon as you get wherever you decide to go."

As he leans down and kisses my forehead, a pang of sadness hits me, unexpected and sharp. He starts to walk away, but just before reaching the door, he pauses, turning back. He crosses the room in a couple of strides, capturing my face in his hands and kissing me hard.

When he finally pulls back, his voice is rough. "That should keep me in your memory."

As he steps back, a smile plays at the corner of his mouth, but I see something deeper in his eyes- something raw and unguarded that makes my heart twist. He straightens his suit jacket, smoothing down the lapels, a little ritual I've seen him do a thousand times, but today, for some reason, it feels final. Like he's bracing himself for something.

I swallow, the weight of this moment settling over me like a thick fog. It's silly, really-I'm just leaving his house. This shouldn't feel like a goodbye, but it does. And I don't know why.

He reaches the door, hand resting on the frame, and for a moment, I think he's going to say it, going to tell me not to go. There's that look in his eyes, a hesitation I rarely see in him, and I hold my breath, waiting.

"When you have the time," he says, his voice low, almost casual. "Can you send me an updated resume?"

I blink, thrown by the request. "Resume?"

"Your resume," he clarifies.

"Want me to come work for you?"

He chuckles, finally meeting my gaze. "From experience, you should know that's a bad idea."

The tension between us eases just a bit, and I feel a strange warmth bloom in my chest. There's something comforting about the teasing, something grounding. It feels like a lifeline in the midst of this shitstorm of uncertainty.

He tilts his head, eyes softening. "Call me as soon as you get there."

And with that, he's gone, the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing in the stillness.

I sit there, keys in hand, my thoughts swirling. This should be easier-leaving, putting distance between us to protect him from the fallout of my mess. I should be relieved, grateful for the clarity, for the clean break I'd promised myself. But all I feel is a deep, hollow ache. Hours later, I make my way down the stairs, dragging a heavy bag behind me. I can't believe I came here

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CHAPTER 049 Utum

with an overnight bag, and in just a couple of days, I've filled up a travel-sized bag.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Javier in his usual spot, his eyes glued to a rerun of some old Western, looking as sharp and stubborn as ever. He glances up, one brow raised. "Going somewhere?" he says.

I pause, my hand tightening around the handle of my bag, as if letting go would make this decision even harder than it already feels. "Just... heading out for a couple of weeks, maybe more."

"A couple of weeks, huh? That's bound to give Lucas a heart attack."

I roll my eyes, a half-hearted smile tugging at my lips despite the ache in my chest. "You're impossible."

"And you're just figuring that out now?"

I laugh despite myself, and for a moment, the tension in my shoulders eases. Javier's presence has always been grounding. And in some strange way, it feels like he's one of the last pieces of what I'll miss most here.

"By the way," I add, glancing around, "is there a printer somewhere in this house?"

"A printer?" He squints at me like I've just asked him for a spaceship.

"Yes, Javier, a printer. Like a machine that prints things? For documents?" I try to keep a straight face, but it's hard not to laugh at the way he's looking at me.

"Of course, there's a printer," he says, waving his hand in the direction of the stairs. "Library's over there. Ask Lucas why a man needs that many books sometime."

I follow his gesture toward a part of the house I hadn't noticed before. Luke's library. Somehow, in my days here, I hadn't even known it existed. When I walk in, I'm struck by the overwhelming smell of leather and old paper, the walls lined floor to ceiling with volumes I doubt anyone's opened in years. It's beautiful -warm, in a way. Luke's little sanctuary.

After a minute of admiring it, I set up my laptop and connect it to the printer, taking a deep breath as I hit print on my resignation letter. The hum of the machine fills the silence, and the sound feels oddly like the finality of the words I'll be handing over soon. When the letter is done, I take a last look around the room, then head back to the living room with the paper clutched in my hand.

"What's that?" Javier asks, as I step back into the living room.

"My resignation letter." I hold it up, letting the paper flap in the air.

"It's quite long, isn't it?"

I laugh, brushing a thumb over the printed lines. "I was going to email it, but... there are some things that deserve a bit more closure. Besides, I have a few things to get from my office."

He watches me for a moment, something in his gaze softening in a way I've never seen. There's a strange look in his eyes, one I can't quite place, and for the first time, I realize how much I'll miss him. I step closer and lean down, pressing a light kiss to his cheek "I'll miss you, old man."

He smirks, his voice gruff. "Give them hell, you hear me?" His eyes harden, that fire I've come to respect

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CHAPTER 049: U-turn

flashing. "And stop defending yourself. Fight, Julie. Fight."

I nod. "I will."

With that, I take a last look around, grab my bag, and head out the door. But as I step into the crisp morning air, I realize my vision is blurred. I blink hard, surprised by the sting of tears. Why does leaving feel so final? Why does it feel like I'm closing a door I won't be able to open again?

With a shaky breath, I toss my bag into the back of Luke's Aston Martin, the one he'd handed over with such ease this morning. When I slide into the driver's seat and start the engine, the speakers burst to life with an absurdly peppy tune. The chorus blares with lines that I'm almost sure are deliberate: "You can run, but you can't hide, I'll be there when you're sleeping at night!"

I groan, laughing despite myself. Of course, I think, my heart warming a little at the ridiculousness of it all. Luke's handiwork, no doubt. I leave the song on, letting the absurdity lift my spirits as I pull out onto the road.

But as I drive, something nags at me. My hands are steady on the wheel, and I tell myself it's because I'm being cautious with Luke's "baby", his car. Yet, I know that's only half the truth. It feels like I'm leaving more than just a house. Leaving Luke feels like leaving... home. A home I didn't know I needed until now.

As the city skyline rolls past, I pull out my phone, glancing down at the maps to search for nearby hotels. I've made sure to transfer all my funds out of my joint account with Ryan into a new one. I've even ordered a new card, so there won't be any surprises this time-no chance for Ryan or his cronies to leave me high and dry.

But the thought lingers, and suddenly, some