Chapter 172

Chapter 172
Josie's POV

By mid-semester, I'd completed several experiments, but progress had slowed to a crawl. Each day in the lab felt longer than the last, with fewer breakthroughs to show for my efforts.

When I pushed open the door to Whitmore Manor that evening, the familiar sound of Cookie's nails clicking against the hardwood floor greeted me. My golden retriever bounded toward me with his usual enthusiasm, but even his excited welcome couldn't fully lift my spirits.

Dylan was kneeling beside Cookie's water bowl, refilling it. He looked up, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled, but his expression quickly shifted to concern when he saw my face.

"Josie," he said, standing and crossing the foyer to help me with my coat.

I slipped my arms out of my windbreaker, letting him hang it in the closet.

Dylan's hands came to rest gently on my shoulders, turning me to face him. "You've seemed exhausted these past few days. Is the experiment not going well?"

I leaned against the wall, suddenly aware of just how tired I was. "Nothing's working as it should. Dr. Henderson keeps suggesting we try different approaches, but..." I trailed off with a sigh.

Cookie nudged my hand with his wet nose, and I absently scratched behind his ears.

"I think you might be hitting a burnout phase," Dylan said, his voice thoughtful. "It happens to everyone, especially in research. Have you considered taking a short break?"

I frowned. "In the middle of the semester?"

"Just for a week or two." He guided me toward the kitchen where the scent of pasta sauce simmering on the stove made my stomach rumble. "Talk to Dr. Henderson about a brief leave. Sometimes stepping away is exactly what you need to come back with fresh insights."

"I don't know..." I hesitated, sliding onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island. "The semester's already so packed."

Dylan stirred the sauce, then turned to face me. "Even when my work schedule is at its busiest, I still schedule recovery periods. It's not about working constantly—it's about working effectively."

He ladled sauce over two plates of pasta and placed one in front of me. "Besides," he added with a small smile, "we got married but never took a proper honeymoon."

The thought of escaping the lab for a few days was becoming more appealing by the second. "Where would we even go on such short notice?"

Dylan took a seat beside me, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "What if I told you I already had something planned?"

"What? Really?" I put down my fork.

He nodded. "I was saving it for our one-year anniversary, but seeing how you could use a break now, why wait? The weather's perfect for it."

I felt a spark of excitement cutting through my exhaustion. "You're serious? Where are we going?"

"Pack for mild temperatures. That's all I'm saying." His smile was both mysterious and pleased.

After dinner, I called Dr. Henderson, who was surprisingly supportive of my taking time off. "Graduate burnout is real, Josie. Take the break—your research will still be here when you get back."

I texted Elliot and Olivia next:

[Taking a short vacation with Dylan. Research burnout is real. Will bring you guys souvenirs!]

Olivia responded immediately: [OMG finally a honeymoon! Details please!! I could really use some good news to brighten up these boring days at home.]

Elliot was more practical: [Good timing. Just go and have some fun.]

I smiled at my phone. "Are we bringing Cookie?"

Dylan looked up from his laptop. "Not this time. William has already volunteered to dog-sit."

That night, as I packed my suitcase with Dylan being frustratingly vague about our destination, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. When we finally went to bed, I curled against Dylan's side, his steady breathing lulling me toward sleep.

"Thank you," I murmured, already half-dreaming.

"For what?" His voice was a low rumble against my ear.

"For noticing I needed this before I did."

His arm tightened around me. "Get some sleep. We have an early flight."

The next morning, we left for the airport before dawn, the first real adventure of our marriage about to begin.


Olivia's POV

These past two weeks, the only genuine highlight of my days has been video chatting with Josie, listening to her excited tales about traveling with Dylan. Beyond those brief escapes into her happiness, my days followed a predictable pattern—classes at Columbia, followed by quiet evenings at home with Avery.

The tablet Maxwell had left behind had become my companion during sleepless nights. Those audio recordings of his business meetings in French had somehow become my unconventional lullaby. Two weeks into his absence, I'd only managed to get through half of them.

Wednesday afternoon marked exactly fourteen days since Maxwell's departure. With my afternoon class canceled, I arrived home earlier than usual, just past 4:30. Following my usual routine, I headed straight upstairs to check on Avery before anything else.

When I pushed open the nursery door, I found Hannah, Avery's nanny, holding my son while he babbled excitedly at a phone propped on the dresser. Maxwell's face filled the screen, his office at Harrison Group serving as backdrop. The sight of his face after two weeks caught me off guard.

Hannah turned at the sound of the door, adjusting Avery in her arms. "You're home early, Mrs. Harrison," she observed with a warm smile.

"Fewer classes today," I replied, unable to prevent my eyes from drifting toward the screen where Maxwell was watching our interaction.

Hannah, ever perceptive, immediately read the room. "Mr. Harrison was just checking on the little one's progress," she explained, already moving toward me with Avery. "Perfect timing! Why don't you take him while I prepare his bottle? You two could use some family time."

Before I could protest, she had transferred Avery into my arms and slipped out, quietly closing the door behind her with practiced discretion.

Avery was delighted with this arrangement. His little head swiveled between me and the screen showing his father, unsure which parent deserved more attention. His tiny hands reached out, grasping at air, while his round eyes shone with recognition.

The room fell silent as I adjusted Avery in my arms, both Maxwell and I seemingly waiting for the other to speak first. Finally, I lifted my gaze from our son to the screen.

"Are you coming home tomorrow?" I asked, surprising myself with how directly the question emerged.

I'd never been one to pay much attention to the passage of time, but somehow, I'd been acutely aware of each passing day during Maxwell's absence, like an invisible countdown clock ticking in my periphery.

Through the screen, the harsh office lighting cast shadows across his face as he frowned slightly. "I can't come back yet. There are still some things I need to take care of here."

I couldn't tell if this was really about work or if it simply reflected what we'd always been—a contract marriage where, now that Avery was born healthy, there wasn't much reason for us to be together anymore.

"Okay," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady despite the unexpected tightness in my chest. "I understand."

Maxwell studied me through the screen. "Have you finished listening to those audio files?"

My gaze dropped back to Avery, finding it easier to focus on his perfect little features than to meet Maxwell's intense stare. "Not yet."

A moment of silence stretched between us before Maxwell spoke again. "I'll send you some additional recordings later. My schedule here is still uncertain."

After the call ended, my phone buzzed with the audio files he'd promised. We'd actually been texting more since late pregnancy—what used to be his daily "Remember to lock your windows" reminders had somehow turned into real conversations.

But something had changed these past few weeks since I'd gone back to classes. Whether we were talking face-to-face or over video calls, it felt like we were sliding back into that polite, distant thing we'd had at the beginning of all this.

Holding Avery close, I wondered why that realization bothered me as much as it did. After all, wasn't this exactly what our contract specified? A business arrangement with clear boundaries and expiration dates?