CHAPTER FIVE #2
Julian nodded, relief washing through him at the news. He needed to escape this room, this moment, this entire situation.
He set his untouched cider on a nearby table, then walked to where Kiara stood with Angela. The sunlight caught in her dark curls, highlighting strands of auburn he hadn't noticed before. She turned as he approached, her expression guarded.
"I need to leave for the airport soon," Julian said, his voice low enough that only she and Angela could hear.
Kiara nodded. "How long do you think you’ll be gone?"
"Thirty days minimum." The number hung between them, a measurement of the strange limbo they now occupied. "Maybe longer, depending on… how things go."
Kiara crossed her arms. "And after that?"
Julian hadn't thought beyond the rehab. The future stretched ahead of them like an unmapped territory, full of decisions they'd have to make about custody, living arrangements, and their strange marriage.
"We'll figure it out when I get back," he said, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. “Also, I won’t be able to call or text for the first little while. So just know that’s why you aren’t hearing from me.”
“Okay.”
He searched for the words to say. "Take care of yourself. And the baby."
Kiara gave him a small smile. "I will. Take care of yourself too."
For a moment, they stood there in awkward silence, two strangers who happened to be married, connected by an unplanned pregnancy and a hasty ceremony neither had truly wanted. Julian felt the weight of all the things, all the decisions that still needed to be made.
"Goodbye, Kiara," he said finally, the formality of the words hanging awkwardly between them.
"Goodbye," she replied, her voice soft.
He hesitated, then leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. The scent of vanilla was stronger up close, mingled with something floral that reminded him of spring.
As he stepped back, Julian caught Angela watching them, her expression unreadable. He gave her a nod before turning away, his shoulders stiff under the cut of his expensive suit.
Anthony approached him. "Your bags are loaded into the helicopter, so we can go whenever you’re ready."
“Thanks. I just need to speak to my father.”
Anthony nodded. “I’ll wait for you in the mudroom.”
It was weird to think that in addition to leaving his job and life behind, he’d be without Anthony for the time he was away too.
It was probably the longest they’d been apart since Anthony had been assigned to him. But the treatment center had its own security since it catered to the wealthiest of the wealthy, so Anthony wasn’t needed.
At the sound of his name, Julian turned to face his dad.
Duncan stepped closer and spoke to him in a low voice. "I know this isn't how you envisioned your life unfolding, but you're taking the right steps."
Julian's jaw clenched. The right steps?
Everything felt manipulated and forced into place like chess pieces on his father's board. He wanted to argue, to push back against the narrative that painted him as some wayward son finally coming to his senses.
"The facility I've chosen has an excellent reputation," Duncan continued. "They specialize in high-functioning professionals who need to address their relationship with alcohol without derailing their careers."
High-functioning. Julian almost laughed at the irony. If he was so high-functioning, why was he standing here married to a woman he couldn’t remember being intimate with?
“I realize you won’t be able to call or email, at least at first, but once you’re able to contact us, I wouldn’t mind an update.”
Julian didn’t want to update him on the torture he was about to undergo, but he nodded. Maybe he’d feel a little different once he had some distance from this turbulent time.
"I'll keep that in mind," Julian said, forcing his voice to remain level despite the turmoil inside him.
Duncan clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm. "This will be good for you, son. You'll come back stronger."
Julian nodded again, not trusting himself to speak further. His father's expectations pressed down on him like a physical force.
He turned away, desperate to escape the solarium with its bright sunlight and the eyes of his family—his new wife—watching his every move. “I need to go. The helicopter is waiting.”
After a quick wave to the others in the room, Julian left the solarium and made his way through the house to the mudroom.
Anthony was waiting by the door as promised, his expression neutral but his eyes watchful. "Ready?"
"More than ready," Julian muttered, following his bodyguard out the back door.
The early spring air hit his face as they stepped outside, cool and fresh after the stifling atmosphere of the solarium. Julian loosened his tie, gulping in deep breaths.
A UTV was waiting for them, and Anthony climbed into the front row beside Derrick, another of the security team members, while Julian settled into the second row.
All too soon, the UTV reached the helicopter. Julian and Anthony boarded, and Julian settled into a seat next to the window.
He slipped on the headset that Anthony handed him, though he had no desire to talk. Thankfully, Anthony knew him well enough to understand that conversation wasn’t welcome right then.
As the helicopter lifted off, Julian watched as the estate fell away, growing smaller and smaller until they left it fully behind.
The twenty-minute flight to Coeur d’Alene passed quickly, then they were boarding the plane that would take him to his new home for the next month or more.
The plane had internet, so as soon as it took off, he opened his laptop to do a little work. Mainly, it was writing emails to a few people to let them know that he’d be unavailable for the foreseeable future and to address any issues with Duncan.
The letter to Sean was the hardest to write because he knew he’d be unable to be kept abreast of the latest developments for FemPulse. He didn’t give details about his absence beyond stating that he was dealing with some health issues.
As he sent each email, anger grew inside him. It started out burning strictly for his father, but soon, it grew to encompass himself as well.
He wanted to lay the blame for his current situation on Duncan being unreasonable and demanding, but in his heart, he knew that it was his own actions that had led to this point.
He’d chosen to drink as a way to cope with stuff that he didn’t want to deal with.
And that drinking had led to him making some not so great decisions.
Not the least of which was sleeping with Kiara when he was too drunk to remember it.
By the time they’d landed at the airport in Aspen, Julian was resigned to his fate. After retrieving his luggage, Anthony took it to the car service that was waiting for them.
The treatment center was a little way outside of Aspen, and Anthony would be accompanying him there before returning to take the plane back to Coeur d’Alene.
Julian watched the scenery rush by the car window, mentally preparing himself for what was to come, and wishing fervently that he’d been able to have at least one drink during the flight. But his dad had had all the alcohol removed from the plane, just like he had from the estate.
Nerves were fluttering wildly as the car paused at the gates of the treatment center. Anthony took care of identifying them so that they could enter the property.
Once inside, the car made its way along a meandering driveway up to a large building that looked more like a fancy hotel than what Julian had imagined a treatment center would look like.
The driver pulled up under the port cochere and came to a stop. As soon as they did, a man stepped through a set of large glass doors and approached the car.
He opened Julian’s door and greeted him. “Welcome to Crystal Haven Wellness, Mr. Burke.”
“Thank you.” Julian climbed out of the car and turned to see Anthony working with another member of the center’s staff to transfer his suitcases from the car to the rolling luggage cart.
“Please follow me,” the man said. “Your luggage will be taken to your room.”
And that was that. The end of the road.
“Just one moment,” Julian said and walked to where Anthony stood. “Thank you for coming along. I guess I’ll see you in a month or so.”
“I look forward to it,” Anthony said, holding out his hand. When Julian took it, he gave it a firm shake. “I hope that everything goes smoothly.”
“Thanks.”
With a final nod at Anthony, Julian turned to follow the man in a suit up the stairs and into the building.
The Crystal Haven Wellness Center's lobby reminded Julian of the five-star hotels he frequented on business trips—all polished marble floors, tasteful artwork, and discreet luxury. Except unlike those hotels, there was no bar in sight.
"I'm Marcus Delaney, the intake coordinator," the man said as he led Julian past a small seating area. "We'll start with some paperwork and then get you settled in your room."
Julian followed Marcus down a hallway to a warmly lit office. The walls were painted a soothing sage green, and a plush leather chair waited across from a large desk. A framed diploma hung on the wall—Northwestern University, Julian noted.
As Marcus delved into the setup of the center, Julian tried to pay attention and ignore the desperate longing he had for a drink. He clenched his hands into fists to curb the slight tremor in them.
He wanted to tell the man that he actually wasn’t an alcoholic. That he didn’t have an alcohol problem, and that he could quit at any time. And he would have if Duncan hadn’t held his job over his head.
So he would go through the motions, do what they required of him, and then leave the treatment center as soon as he could.