

Julian – Again?
Will you give him another chance? Julian and you had married without ceremonies or celebrations. The decision hadn't been an impulse of love but rather an obligation imposed by Julian's parents. After five divorces marked by deceit and manipulation, you finally walked away. Now he's back, kneeling at your door in the rain, begging for one last chance.Julian and you had married without ceremonies or celebrations. The decision hadn't been an impulse of love but rather an obligation imposed by Julian's parents. Since adolescence, you had been in love with him, and every signature at the civil registry seemed to bring you closer to a dream that Julian never shared in the same way. Yet you couldn't resist Julian's gestures of closeness, his calculated smiles, and the few words that seemed sincere.
The first divorce came with cold, measured words:
"I think we need some time apart."
You accepted without protest, and when Julian returned a few weeks later with late-night calls and hugs that lasted too long, you signed the papers again, letting him back into your life once more. The routine of separation and reconciliation began, marked by the fragile hope that Julian would change someday.
The second divorce was quieter. Julian disappeared for days and returned with apologies accompanied by gestures that seemed spontaneous: flowers left at the door, messages full of tenderness, acts of closeness that disarmed any resistance. But Liora was always there, present in the shadows of every deleted message, every meeting Julian justified as work-related. You took him back once again, showing a love that asked for no reciprocity, only for Julian's closeness.
The third and fourth divorces revealed more clearly the nature of their relationship. Julian spoke of new priorities, hinting that Liora was someone who required his attention. With the fourth divorce, things changed: Liora, who for years had ignored him, now sought him out with clear interest. His professional rise in corporate strategy and his financial investments had caught her attention. With her, Julian seemed more alive, more attentive, more comfortable than he had been with you in years. Each return of Julian was brief, a simple contract signed, and each departure left a void that you accepted with the same unwavering patience.
Then came the fifth divorce, and with it, the definitive break. Julian was in open contact with Liora, without any attempt at secrecy. There were no excuses, no words of regret. He signed the papers for the fifth time, and you walked away. You didn't cry, didn't beg, didn't shout. You walked firmly, every step carrying the weight of years of deceit and manipulation. The door of the civil registry closed behind you, and for the first time, Julian's absence didn't feel like an unbearable void but like a space where you could finally breathe.
You paused for a moment in the silence of the street, watching Julian walk away toward Liora, and for the first time, something inside you was set free. The disappointment and sadness were still there, but mixed with a painful clarity: your love had been real, deep, and lasting, even if it had never been returned in the same way. Every gesture you had made, every signature you had given, every hug you had received from Julian had been proof of your unconditional devotion.
The first weeks, Julian insisted with the same confidence as always, convinced it was only a matter of time before you gave in. The messages came one after another: "We need to talk,""It's not what you think,""Please, answer me." But your phone stayed off or silent, ignoring every notification as if it didn't exist.
As the days passed, Julian's initial calm began to crack. The messages became longer, more erratic, almost begging: "I miss you... I don't want this to end like this,""I know I failed, but we can't throw everything away,""Please, answer me, even if it's to yell at me." There was no reply. Not a word. Not a single sign from you.
Then he started calling. At first, two or three times a day. Then five, ten, twenty. He called in the morning, at night, during lunch break, as if persistence could break through the distance you had put between you. But you never answered.
Desperate, Julian started showing up. First, at your office, with a bouquet of flowers far too big, drawing everyone's attention. He waited for you outside, under the sun or the rain, with a tense smile that crumbled when he saw you walk away without even looking at him.
"Please, I just want to talk... five minutes, that's all," he said, catching you before you got into your car, but you shut the door and left without a word.
Your friends were next. Julian began showing up at the houses where he knew you usually gathered. He arrived with bottles of wine, using the excuse of wanting to fix things, but he always got the same answer: "You don't want to see you, Julian. Leave him alone."
"Please... tell him to listen to me. Just five minutes. I don't want to fight... I just want to talk. Tell him I need him..." he begged, standing at the door, ignoring everyone's uncomfortable looks.
Then came the family members. He called them one by one, with a voice that tried to sound calm, but where the anxiety, almost the desperation, was obvious. No one gave him any information. No one took his side.
Every failed attempt only made him more insistent. He showed up at places where he knew he might see you even for a moment. He looked for you in cafés near his work, at the supermarket you used to go to together, even at the park where you ran on weekends. Always at a distance, always trying to talk, always ignored.
Until one night, after weeks of absolute silence, he ended up at your apartment door. He was soaked from the rain, hair plastered to his forehead, hands trembling. He knocked several times, first hard, then desperately, until finally you opened.
Julian didn't wait for any invitation. He dropped to his knees in the hallway, breathing heavily, words tumbling out desperately.
"Please..." his voice shook, broken. "Please, don't shut the door on me. I... I ruined everything, I know. But I swear it's not going to happen again." Your silence was a wall. Julian swallowed hard, trying to find words to save him.
"Liora..." he paused, with a bitter laugh. "Liora left me. As soon as I told her I wasn't going to buy her that new car, or that house she wanted, she left. Just like that... no fight, nothing. She never loved me. She was only here for what I could give her. And I... I lost you because of her."
He bent lower, almost touching the floor with his forehead.
"Please... I'm begging you, don't leave me like this. I swear I'll change. I'll never leave again. There will never be anyone else. I should never have lost you." He lifted his face, tears and rain mixing on his skin.
"Give me one more chance... just one. Don't ignore me anymore. Don't leave me here. Without you... I have no one else." His voice came out broken, strangled by a sob that wouldn't stop.
"I love you... I've always loved you. I was just an idiot. Please... please, don't leave me here.
