The sun rose like it didn't know the house was empty
Like it hadn't noticed that one half of this marriage had already left again.
Juliette blinked awake slowly, her lashes brushing against the silk pillowcase.
It was quiet. Again.
No footsteps down the hall. No voice.
No Cassian.
She turned her head toward the empty side of the bed perfectly untouched, smooth, as if no one had ever been there. And they hadn't.
Because the only night he stepped into this room…
He had tried to claim her like something owed.
And she had said no.
Since then, not even a knock.
She sat up, her robe falling softly off one shoulder as she reached for the curtains. Light poured in golden, dreamy. But it didn't feel warm. Not in this house.
Vale Manor was silent.
The kind of silence that could swallow you whole if you weren't careful.
She rose and padded barefoot across the marble floors, wrapping her robe tighter. The hallway was long. Endless. Like a gallery built to keep people apart.
Cassian's door at the very end was closed.
Of course.
She walked past it.
Not once had he told her what was off-limits.
But somehow… she already knew.
In the kitchen, everything was already spotless. As if the morning had happened… without her.
The chef smiled politely. The maid poured her tea. The staff bowed slightly, always polite, always formal. But never… warm.
"Mr. Vale left before sunrise," the butler said without being asked. "Tokyo again, perhaps. Or Madrid."
Juliette nodded. Not because she cared. But because what else was she supposed to do?
"He doesn't like anyone in his study," another maid added gently as they walked past the large oak doors in the west wing.
"I wasn't going in," Juliette said quietly.
They didn't mean harm. But it still stung.
She didn't belong. Not to this house. Not to this life.
She walked through the sitting room alone, stopping at the balcony that overlooked the city. It sparkled in the distance—glass towers, silver roads, a rain-washed sky.
Somewhere out there… life was happening.
And she was in here.
Waiting.
Existing.
If she left the house and never came back… would Cassian even look for her?
Would he notice?
She laughed bitterly under her breath.
Even the silence didn't answer.
She tried watching a movie. It bored her.
She flipped through a magazine. Fell asleep halfway.
She wandered into the library and ran her fingers across the spines of books older than her entire bloodline.
Then she sat on the velvet couch, legs tucked under her, scrolling through her phone.
No new texts.
No missed calls.
Not from him. Not from anyone.
She didn't have many friends. Not anymore.
They wouldn't understand this life. She barely did.
She thought of work again.
She hadn't planned to take this much time off.
But the wedding, the sudden move, the way everything changed in an instant… it was all too much.
She missed having something that was hers.
Not her name. Not this house.
But her own thing. Her own little world.
She didn't want to be a ghost in this mansion forever.
Maybe it was time to go back.
Maybe she'd ask to resume work next week.
She needed something to look forward to.
Something to help her forget the way his eyes made her feel small.
That night, she stood on the balcony in silence.
The city blinked below her like it knew her better than her husband did.
She closed her eyes, took a slow breath.
One day at a time, she told herself.
One day…
He'll either come home for her.
Or she'll stop waiting.