Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Julian
“Girls, knock it off,” I said as they chased each other around my desk. They weren’t listening, so I let out a loud whistle. They stopped and looked at me, lining up like three little soldiers. “This is a place of business. We do not act like animals here.”
“Morgan told us to,” Sophie said.
“Of course she did.” I sighed, running my hand down my face.
“Are you and our mom dating?” Stella asked.
“No.” I frowned. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because you sleep together in the same bed. We’re not buying the story that you have a bad back and couldn’t sleep on the couch.”
“Girls, leave Julian alone.” Laurel walked in. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes. So, I need you three to go to my office and sit quietly on the couch.”
“Okay, Mom,” Sara said as they ran out of my office.
“Sorry about that,” she said.
“It’s fine. We need to talk, Laurel. Why don’t you go home, get the girl’s bathing suits, and come over? They can swim at Parker’s. I already asked him, and he said he’d keep an eye on them and order a pizza.”
“Sure. I agree. We do need to talk,” she said.
After leaving the office, I headed home. As I was changing, I heard the front door open.
“Bro, where are you?” Parker shouted.
“I’ll be out in a second. I’m changing. What’s up?” I asked, walking to the bar and pouring us each a scotch.
“It’s about the Cordova case.”
“What about it?” I handed him his drink.
“Bill got sick during the trial and is now hospitalized.”
“Is he okay?” My brows furrowed.
“Gallbladder. I guess he’s having surgery in the morning, so I need you as second chair.”
“No problem. You know I got your back.” I smiled.
“Thanks. Now, what kind of conversation are you having with Laurel? Because my gut is telling me it won’t be a good one.”
“Things are moving too fast and quickly getting out of control. I need to put the brakes on. She told me this morning she needed to talk to the girls about ‘us.’ Do you know how that made me feel when I heard that?”
“I can take a guess. You’re freaking out because you’re in love with her.”
“No, I’m not, Parker. I like her, but I’m not in love with her. It’s all just too much, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.”
“Well, you’re going to, so prepare yourself. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He cocked his head. “She’s an amazing woman, and her girls are awesome. You know what? Maybe I will pursue her since you don’t want anything to do with her anymore. ”
“You shut the fuck up.” I pointed at him. “We have a code.”
“Nah, that code was when we were in college. It doesn’t apply anymore.”
“Bullshit!” I shouted. “I’m warning you, brother.” I shook my head.
“Then get your head out of your ass and grow up. Danielle hurt you really bad. I get it. But you can’t spend the rest of your life fearing relationships because of one person. You let Danielle control you back then, and you’re still doing it after all these years. I have to get home and order the pizza. I really hope you know what you’re doing. I’ll talk to you later.”
As I poured myself another glass of scotch, the doorbell sounded, causing my stomach to clench with anxiety.
“Hi.” I smiled. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I get you a scotch or a glass of wine?” I asked.
“No. I’m good, Julian.”
“Are the girls over at Parker’s?”
“Yeah. I just dropped them off. What do you want to talk about?”
“Let’s sit on the couch.” I gestured.
Regret and guilt lingered on my tongue, knowing that what I was about to tell her would hurt her. From the expression on her face, I could tell she already knew what this talk was about.
I sat beside her, and our bodies turned, facing each other.
“It’s been about eight years since her,” I said, running my hand through my hair. “But sometimes it feels like yesterday.” I stared at the empty glass on the coffee table, avoiding Laurel’s eyes.”
“Who was she?” she asked .
“Her name is Danielle. We were together for four years. Engaged for the last two. She was supposed to work at the firm with me.”
“What happened?”
“Career opportunity at a much larger law firm in Connecticut. The worst part was that I had already proposed. We set a date, booked a venue, and informed all of our family and friends. When the firm in Connecticut offered her the job, she accepted it without even discussing it with me. I came home one day and found her ring resting on a note on the table. The note said she didn’t know how to tell me and she was so sorry. She also went on to say that she canceled the wedding venue, so I didn’t have to worry about it.”
“She left you a note and didn’t even say goodbye in person?” Laurel asked.
“I immediately called her, not expecting her to pick up, but she did. I begged her to come back so we could talk. She told me that she wanted a different future and thought she was ready to settle down, but she wasn’t and didn’t know how to tell me. I loved her, and it broke me when she left. What hurt the most was how she couldn’t tell me in person. I spent four years with her and never saw it coming. Or maybe I did but didn’t want to see it. I told my family that she wanted me to go with her, which was a lie. Letting them believe she was still in love with me was easier.”
“I’m sorry, Julian.”
“Don’t be. I freaked out when you said you needed to talk to the girls about us. I have feelings for you, Laurel. I genuinely do. However, I'm unable to commit to anything beyond a physical relationship. I just can’t. I want to be honest with you. This—us—it can't be more than what it is. ”
“And what exactly is it?” she asked, looking down at her hands.
“Physical. Convenient.” The words tasted bitter. “I’m not built for relationships. I decided that a long time ago.”
“So that's it?” she finally asked. “Everything we've shared comes down to... what? Just bodies?”
“I’m sorry, Laurel. I really am.”
She stood from the couch, walked into the kitchen, and poured a glass of wine while I poured another glass of much-needed scotch.
“The thing is, I wasn't asking for forever. I wasn't even asking for next year. I was just asking for the chance to see where this might go. You don’t think Jason’s death broke me? After he died, it was like someone had ripped away my ability to imagine a future with anyone else.” Her finger traced the rim of her glass. “The first year was just survival. Getting through each day, making sure the kids ate, and remembering to breathe. It wasn’t just about losing him. It was about losing myself in that grief. Everyone kept saying time would heal, but what they don’t tell you is how rough that healing is. Some days, I'd feel almost normal, and then something small—his favorite song on the radio or finding one of his socks that fell behind the dryer—would tear everything open again.”
“I’m sorry, Laurel.”
“So am I, Julian.”