Chapter 45

I can still smell Adrian’s cologne when I’m getting ready for bed. Maybe giving him that kiss was a mistake, but I’m having a hard time regretting it. Even with Julian somewhere in the house, it feels good to finally give in to the urge to touch him. He doesn’t seem to particularly mind. In fact, he instigated what happened last night.

Speaking of last night…

My skin flushes at the memory of his taste and the way he had touched me. The feel of his fingers inside me has my core aching with want.

I climb into my bed, thinking about his touch and the feel of his body against mine. The hotel room seems like a lifetime ago, and yet the memory of his skin against mine has me igniting as warmth settles between my legs.

No longer able to resist, I reach down and slide my hand under the waist of my panties. The memory of his touch overwhelms me, and I get lost in the sensations. It’s his fingers inside me, his mouth on my skin, the heat and smell from his body in my nose.

I allow the fantasy to completely take over as I chase the climax and launch myself right over it. Breaking apart with a soft cry and feeling a little sad that it’s over. He’s not really here.

I wasn’t so bold as to believe I could just walk to the other side of the house and let myself into his room. Not with everything that has happened. We can’t trust the staff and Julian is right down the hall.

Julian. There was a sobering thought.

I stretched out under the sheets, still coming down from my climax, when I feel that suspicious sensation of being watched. I glance at my door. I swear I closed it, but it’s cracked slightly, and I see movement on the other side.

The door opens just a little more before the figure on the other side disappears. I know exactly who it is. Julian.

How much did he see? Was he watching me?

The idea that he did has me feeling so violated I’m almost ill. I shouldn’t rush to conclusions. Julian wouldn’t do that. I have to believe he wouldn’t. He can be a jerk, but he’s not the type to do something like that.

I put the thought from my mind and finally sleep soundly for the first time in what feels like an age.

The next morning, I’m sitting at the kitchen counter, finishing my coffee and toast when Julian walks in. The look he gives me is regretful and there’s a tenderness to the small smile.

“Good morning.” He says.

“You look better.” I respond. The swelling to the injury on his head has gone down and the black marks underneath his eyes have faded.

“I feel a little better.” He answers with a nod. Then walks over to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup. He glances at me and then walks over and tops off my cup as well.

It’s a small act, and yet, it’s the little things that he’s never done. I don’t really know how to respond, so I just smile my thanks.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Julian.” Grace says from her seat at the small kitchen table. A sad concerned crease is in her brow and she’s staring at the gash on his head.

“Thank you, Grace!” He says with a jovial smile, “No need to worry, I’m alright!”

This seems to comfort her, and I can’t help but feel grateful that Julian is still fond of Grace. He isn’t taking out his anger or resentment on her. Instead, he’s putting on a smile and reassuring the child, so she doesn’t worry about him.

The doorbell rings and I start to get up, remembering that Thomas left this morning.

“I got it.” Julian rushes to say and puts down his coffee to go to the door. He comes back holding a bouquet of flowers and a sheepish smile. “These are for you.”

“For me?” I ask confused. “From whom?”

“From me.” He confesses.

This worries me. We broke up. My ex-boyfriend should not be buying me flowers.

“Julian…” I start and he cuts me off.

“I’m sorry, Lily. I said some really rude things to you, and I was an awful boyfriend. I neglected you and didn’t take care of you like I should have. Especially when you’ve always taken care of me. I just wanted to do something nice because I know an apology doesn’t really cut it.”

He sounds sincere and my heart cracks a little. Not enough to take him back, but enough to let go of some of the anger I’m still harboring.

“Thank you, Julian. I appreciate the gesture.” I say, letting him place the flowers on the counter in front of me.

“I still love you, Lily.” He continues, and my worry ignites again. I don’t want to fight with him. My mind is made up.

“I’ve been thinking about things a lot and I want to fix this.” He adds when I don’t respond.

“Material things are not going to fix what you broke.” I say firmly. “I’m not ready to even think about getting back together. I care about you, but I can’t be with you. Not after everything that’s happened. I don’t trust you anymore.”

“I deserve that.” Julian confesses, though I can see he doesn’t quite believe it. There’s a frustration brewing under his skin. What did he think would happen? That some cut flowers and a considerate gesture of refilling my coffee would undo everything?

“Before I even consider trying to fix this relationship, you need to focus on yourself.” I tell him. “You need to be better. You need to grow up and not be so angry all of the time.”

I’m trying to keep my voice quiet so Grace can’t hear. She’s enthralled in some cartoon on her tablet, so I’m hoping that she isn’t listening.

“I can do that.” Julian nods, a spark of hope in his eyes that has me more than a little concerned.

The flowers and coffee are gestures that remind me of the person Julian used to be. A part of me hopes that he is trying to go back to being that person. Except I don’t know if he can. Maybe that was never who Julian was, and the person he is now is the one that was hiding under the surface all along.

He gets a phone call and leaves the kitchen. I stare at the flowers on the counter.

“Good morning.” A voice greets me, and Adrian walks in.

“Good morning, daddy!” Comes Grace’s chipper greeting.

“What are these?” Adrian points to the flowers.

“Julian’s apology flowers.” I say. My voice is bland and a little sad. There’s an unreadable expression on Adrian’s face. I want to know what he is thinking, but I’m afraid to ask him.

“Pretty.” He says simply before getting his coffee and heading back out the door.

The chef comes back in and starts cleaning up the kitchen. I stare at the flowers.

They feel like a lie. Like they’re just another manipulation. How many times has Julian apologized and never meant it. Lately, they’ve always come with some grand romantic gesture I can’t ignore. These feel like another one of those.

As the chef starts packing up the garbage, I say “Wait”. I pick up the flowers and shove them into the bag.

I almost don’t see the figure at the doorway. Adrian, coming back into the kitchen that unreadable, calm expression still gracing his features, but there’s the unmistakable gleam of relief in his eyes.