No Longer Yours

1.

It's been three months since I left Julian.

The Chicago winter is brutal. I was clutching my slightly rounded belly, walking out of Northwestern Memorial Hospital on Michigan Avenue, and there he was.

He leaned against his black Cadillac, dressed in a perfectly tailored cashmere coat, an unlit cigar between his fingers. Three months apart, and he hadn't changed a bit―still the same Wall Street titan who controlled everything.

"Interesting," he said, his voice cold. "But foolish."

He gest