Dare to Love: 6. Fractures

Julian had always thought of discipline as a muscle—something honed, trained, strengthened until it became second nature. Years of academia had carved routines into him: early mornings, black coffee, lectures structured down to the breath, nights buried in manuscripts and journal reviews. That discipline had carried him through the storm of his divorce, through the loneliness of empty apartments and unopened holidays. Discipline was the one thing he could trust when everything else unraveled.

Until now.

Because no matter how hard he willed it, his body refused to obey him.

The morning after the Dean’s notice, Julian stood in front of the bathroom mirror with his tie half-knotted and hands trembling like a novice. His reflection stared back with accusing eyes, bloodshot from a sleepless night. He had told himself he would end it. He had written the words in his mind a dozen times over. He would cut Amelia off, bury the weakness before it consumed him whole.