CLAIRE
The first morning without Julian felt strange. I woke up to silence, no sound of coffee brewing in the kitchen, no laptop keys clicking from the living room, no quiet presence moving through the penthouse.
Just me and the empty space. I made my own coffee and sat at the kitchen counter, checking my phone for the notifications that had come in overnight.
Five new orders, three customer questions. One message from Nina about fabric arrival dates. I responded to each one carefully, trying to sound professional and confident even though part of me wanted to forward everything to Julian and ask what he thought.
But he was on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic right now, and I needed to handle this myself.
By noon, I'd responded to all the customer questions, confirmed the fabric ti
