CHAPTER 17
SECRETS SAFE WITH ME
NATE
“Do you ever leave this place?” Julian asks, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed just like Nick stood hours earlier.
I'm staring at the console, not actually adjusting anything because my head is still ringing around the conversation with him from earlier.
"You good?" he asks, stepping fully into the room.
People have to stop asking me that.
"Yeah, I'm good. Just busy trying to get these tracks done.”
He nods like that explains everything, then settles into the chair across from me.
"I know I'm the kid here and you're the wise mentor or whatever, but you know you can talk to me if you need, right? I mean it goes both ways."
"I know," I say. “But I’d rather just sit in the discomfort sometimes.”
Julian frowns slightly, leaning forward. "Is that what you're doing now?" he asks quietly. "Sitting with something uncomfortable?"
Smart kid. Too smart for his own good sometimes.
"Something like that."
He's quiet for a moment, processing. Then he shifts in his seat, nervous energy suddenly radiating off him.
"Well, can I tell you something? While we're doing the whole uncomfortable honesty thing?"
"Always."
"I saw her today. In town." His hands curl into fists unconsciously, resting on his knees. "The girl I told you about. The one from foster care."
I sit up straighter.
"She's here? In Eden?"
"Yeah. She was just standing outside the café." He laughs, but it sounds hollow. "She didn't see me. I don't think. I kind of panicked and walked the other direction like a fucking coward."
"That's self-preservation. There's a difference."
"Is there?" He looks up at me, and there's something raw in his expression. "Because it felt like running. And you just said we're supposed to sit with the uncomfortable stuff."
"I also said 'sometimes,'" I point out. "Not 'always.' You're allowed to choose when you're ready for certain conversations. Especially ones that carry history."
He nods slowly, but he's wrestling with it.
I lean back in my chair. "I'd probably make a series of questionable decisions and then second-guess all of them while pretending I had it together."
Julian laughs—real this time. "Is that what's happening right now?"
"Maybe."
"How was it seeing Nora?" he asks, and there's no judgment in it.
"Yeah, well. After not seeing someone and then boom, there they are appearing in the middle of the eulogy you’re trying to say, turns out that's pretty intense."
"Fucking love, hey?” He says with a laugh.
"I offered her a place to stay. Here."
His eyes drift past me to something on the security monitor mounted on the wall. His expression changes—shifts from thoughtful to startled, like he's seen a ghost.
"Well shit," he breathes.
"What?"
"She might have just taken you up on that offer." He points at the screen behind me. “Is that her coming up the driveway?”
"You're funny."
"I'm not trying to be."
I turn to look at the monitor and my heart stops.
Well fuck me, he's right. It is her.
Nora is walking up the gravel drive toward the studio entrance and she's carrying a small duffle bag.
My pulse spikes.
"Didn't think this one through real well, did you?" Julian laughs.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Not for another few hours.” He smirks. “Seriously though, what are you gonna do?"
"I have no fucking idea."
Julian stands, moving toward the door.
"Well, you better figure it out fast because she's about thirty seconds from the entrance."
He pauses in the doorway, looks back at me with something like awe mixed with concern.
"The universe works fast, huh?"
"Apparently," I manage.
He grins despite everything. "Good luck, man."
Then he's gone, slipping out the back way to give me space, and I'm alone watching Nora get closer on the monitor.
I stand slowly.
My heart is pounding. My hands are unsteady.
I take a breath and head for the door.
Time to find out if sitting with discomfort is actually wisdom or just another way to fuck with your already fragile heart.