Julian’s Curse

Not Afraid of You

T he doctor wouldn’t come out for a while, but eventually, she appeared with an encouraging expression on her face. I rose from my chair after having prayed for hours.

“She’s going to be okay,” she chimed.

Relief washed over me. Suddenly, Rose’s well-being became my only priority. Her relationship with Julian seemed almost irrelevant now in the light of survival.

“Initially, she’ll be weak and fatigued, and this is normal as her body went through significant stress. It would be helpful if we could get her into a personal rehabilitation program. Does she have any other family?” The doctor queried. She seemingly assumed that I was her granddaughter because that’s what I’d put in a form to get information.

Rose and I had never talked about any family members of hers. I’d never heard her mention kids and it felt that I’d know by now about them. And a husband had never been in the picture either. Knowing that Julian might be the closest person to her felt heavy, especially now.

“Julian Valmont, my fiancée. He’d want to know that this happened.” I murmured.

The doctor gave me a weird glance and then asked me to fill out a contact form. It didn’t really make sense why I was asking the hospital to call him. But she didn’t question it.

Even though this involved Rose, I wouldn’t call Julian myself. It felt too penetrating to talk to him on the phone, too soon after everything. And I had lost all my empathy for his behavior. The way he’d treated her, the way he’d failed her, left me certain that whatever he’d done this time, it was serious. I could barely think of him without a surge of anger.

“Give it a few days, Lucie.” The doctor informed me. “But I’ll keep you posted as individual recovery can differ.”

I didn’t need to think about my next step. “I’ll stay around at the hospital then.” Rose didn’t have anybody there, so I’d be the one. I planned to call Sophie, to see if she could maybe grab me some clothes to change. Then I would live on the food from the vending machine if I could even eat anything at all. Amanda, she’d understand this was an emergency.

“Look, it may be best for you to just go home.” The doctor suggested kindly while taking a seat next to me. “Besides, I don’t know if you noticed but a few people have been looking at you here.”

I hadn’t. It was now the norm in my life that strangers felt compelled to snap photos of me. Where was Will anyway? He had to be around somewhere. That’s how Julian would eventually find out what had happened. I was about to protest the idea of going home when I realized her advice seemed entirely rational. My decision to stay was emotional and impractical.

“Rose is asleep now, she won’t even know you’re here,” the doctor continued. “We’ll call you once she wakes up. I promise.” She then handed me a tiny envelope. “Ambien, in case you need rest. I expect to have more news tomorrow, and you’d want to be awake then.”

As much as I didn’t want to leave Rose alone at the hospital, I also didn’t want to be the source of a sensation at a time when everything seemed daunting. And I assumed the hospital couldn’t provide me with a private space to wait. In the end, I had to agree with her.

“Thank you,” I motioned to leave, offering a tight-lipped smile before standing up to head back to my car. The first thing I planned to do when I got home was send Rose a room full of flowers to remind her that I was still there for her. Then, as the doctor suggested, I’d return.

Will reappeared, and without a word, we drove home.

I didn’t want to talk to anyone by the time I got to our apartment. It felt eerily quiet, after our devastating exchange. I picked up the shattered pieces of the cup from the floor, hoping to erase the memory of our painful argument, and then treated myself to a hot chocolate. At least it gave me some sustenance without making me feel heavy in my already knotted stomach. Despite it being almost midnight, I wasn’t ready for sleep.

Although I appreciated the Ambien prescribed by Rose’s doctor, I decided against taking it, mainly to keep my clarity. Instead, I stared blankly into space, my thoughts swirling in all directions, unable to find any peace. The image of Julian with another woman filled my mind, and with it came a surge of jealousy and aching pain. Was he, at this very moment, giving himself to someone else?

If that’s how he chose to handle our problems, then I’d have to find the strength to become the one girl he could never have again. With these images, I sat there, holding the warm mug of hot chocolate, watching the steam rise softly from the surface. My fingers traced the rim absentmindedly, hoping my thoughts would eventually lull me to sleep. A wishful thought anyway.

I was about to switch to a homemade screwdriver, ready to mix up something more potent, when my phone lit up with a message. A flicker of hope ignited in my chest because I expected it to be from either Sophie or Bradley—someone who might offer the comfort of friendship when I needed it most. But it wasn’t either of them.

I am sorry. Julian’s name flashed on my screen.

I exhaled slowly, feeling a sense of relief, like the pressure that had built up inside me was finally starting to ease. It seemed like he was beginning to understand my perspective. And in that moment, it hit me—he might have been struggling just as much as I had. But still, I couldn’t bring myself to reply right away; too much had happened, and I needed more time to hear him out and make sense of everything from his side.

I didn’t have to wait long for that. Lucie, you’re so pure. And I am struggling with ghosts.

Was he talking about his family? Julian, I have my ghosts too . I wrote back without acknowledging that I’d accepted his apology that soon. I needed to hear so much more than that to consider a reconciliation.

I went to Trading Yesterday and couldn’t help but think of our first time there. The day that I knew I wanted to marry you . He reminisced.

That was the first day I’d found out just how much of a public figure he was—and it came early in our relationship. It was also the day he’d given me my rose—the red rose he’d bought for me downtown. Then, to fulfill a childish wish of mine, he’d turned it into an eternal, glazed rose.

So, in the end, he hadn’t visited a private club like he’d said. He’d gone to his yacht, choosing to retreat in his own loneliness. The idea of him there, alone, made a strange ache form in my chest.

I remember carrying you to bed that night—the moment I knew I’d lose my mind if I didn’t have you right then.

No this wasn’t good. My body suddenly already felt hot with desire. I remembered it too. He’d taken my first time that day. But I still needed to remind him how much he’d hurt me earlier. The sting of the memory lingered. I guess it means you didn’t end up fucking any other girls after all?

It didn’t take long for an answer to arrive. I wanted you to feel pain because I couldn’t handle mine.

It was the raw truth, and I could accept the explanation. People dealt with perceived loss differently. But his reaction had been way more intense than ever before. He’d never used cruelty to get me to feel a certain way. I didn’t like this side of him.

You should come home, Julian . We should have been having this conversation in person anyway.

Lucie, first, I got to tell you something. It’s going to change everything between us.

I didn’t like the way this sounded. We’re only going to work if you are honest, remember? I was certain that I could handle whatever he’d say, though. What could he possibly say that would break us?

I am ashamed, because I need help. A new message arrived almost instantly.

With? Fear robbed me of my breath. I knew this wasn’t going to be good.

Before Rose had her heart attack, we got into a bad fight. Her dire condition is killing me even more because I’ve caused it.

I swallowed hard. Of course, he would know about Rose. But what could have possibly happened between them?

She discovered cocaine in the pocket of my suit jacket.

I stared at his message like it was a relic from a different relationship. My prior one. God damn it.

He continued with a long explanation . The first time I used it was while you were in Hawaii with Bradley. I couldn’t handle the idea of you with someone else, so I tried to numb my feelings . I didn’t know I’d get so hooked on it. And for a while, I kept it a secret because I was afraid you’d leave . I thought I could eventually deal with it on my own and stop using.

No, this was too much. Too much for me…not him…of all people. I wanted to scream as a rush of pain surged through me, sharp and unforgiving, like a dark swell tearing at my heart.

Lucie, I tried to quit in Dubai, but I don’t know if I am strong enough to do it on my own anymore. He continued without waiting for my reaction. I’d become completely paranoid after seeing those articles. When I saw you in the kitchen, I felt unbearable anxiety, the fear that you had cheated overwhelmed everything. It was so intense, I knew I had to run because I got so afraid of my rage.

The weight of his confession settled on me, but this was a vulnerable moment, and if I failed to show up, I knew it would make things harder to improve.

How long have you been using it? I tried to gauge the situation.

6 months, he confessed. I know it’s too long and I should have told you earlier.

Drugs were a major trigger for my own trauma, not just his. It wasn’t just that my father had been an alcoholic, often relying on pills to numb his pain; my first love, James Stone, and I had spiraled into a volatile mess when he became an addict. I had chosen Julian because he was everything James wasn’t—stable, put-together, the complete opposite of the chaos I’d grown up with. That stability had been incredibly attractive to me. And now, it was starting to unravel.

Please say something, Lucie. He texted again.

I couldn’t quite find the right words. You have to get sober because I can’t do this otherwise, was all I could muster.

I am checking into rehab tomorrow. In Palm Springs . He followed up as my mind still tried to process everything. I can’t put you through this. Even then, you’ll probably leave. And I can’t be bitter about it .

Given that he’d hidden this from me, much like he had with other secrets the year before, the right thing for me would probably be to leave, just as he was anticipating. But Julian had lost his mom to an overdose, and seeing him angry earlier only reminded me of the danger of walking away now. Abandoning him at this moment would only drive him further into the arms of the devil.

The fact that he’d made the decision to get help was good.

When I saw you today, so beautiful, so untouched by the world, a wild, reckless desire surged within me to have you right here, right now, in our living room. But I’m not clean, Lucie. I’m consumed by an addiction that pulls at me relentlessly, and no matter what I do, it’s never enough anymore. His words were a twisted confession, filled with raw emotion that left me speechless.

Like a moth to a flame, I thought, though I kept the words locked within, afraid to speak them. Despite every rational thought urging me to turn away, there was something in him—an enigmatic pull, delicate yet powerful—that drew me in, a force I couldn’t name. I loved him too fiercely to let him go, not now, not when he needed me most.

Come home , I suddenly texted, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess myself. It was a decision unlike me, yet it felt undeniably right.

Lucie?!!! I could almost see the disbelief in his eyes, the raised eyebrow, wondering how the girl with such strong boundaries had suddenly become so… accepting. But I wasn’t accepting. I just wanted to be his reason to live.

Yes. I replied quickly, the urgency in my voice even through text. Come home now .

I waited about an hour before I heard the familiar rattle of Julian’s keys. I stayed in our downstairs bedroom, so it didn’t take me long to get to the door. He stood outside, alone, still wearing his suit, which now looked quite ruffled after an international flight and an evening filled with turmoil. I watched him for a moment, torn between the urge to approach and the weight of my pride.

“I’m sorry, Lucie.” The scent of alcohol lingered on his breath, but instead of repelling me, it stirred something deeper—worry that things with him had gone out of control more than I’d anticipated.

“I am really proud of you for deciding to go to rehab.” A faint smile tucked at the corner of my lips.

“I sent Rose flowers to the hospital along with an apology letter, but I don’t think she’ll be ready to see me anytime soon.” He sounded devastated. “Lucie, I feel so guilty. I caused her to have a heart attack.” I could feel the tension in his frame, the rawness of his regret.

I glanced at the tip of his nose and wondered why I hadn’t noticed it before. What I had once chalked up to allergies now seemed like a side effect of his use. The rawness, the subtle flaring of his nostrils—it was all clearer now, and when I looked closer, I saw the scabs. I tried to stay composed, but I couldn’t control the tide of panic stirring in me. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

“I got so angry with you, and I can’t forgive myself for it,” Julian said, his voice heavy with regret as he held my gaze, searching for something in my eyes. “But do you love him, Lucie?” He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of my engagement ring. “Has anything happened between the two of you while I was away? Please, tell me the truth.” His words hung in the air, thick with vulnerability and quiet desperation.

I locked eyes with his, struggling to understand how someone so incredible could be so insecure, unable to see how deeply I cared for him. “Julian, I’ve never felt the love I feel for you for anyone.” I wasn’t sure if it was healthy for me anymore, but I had already become too entangled in my feelings to let go of them now.

Then it struck me. I had always been reluctant to fight for anyone but myself. I had loved James deeply, and when I’d told him I wouldn’t date him, it shattered me. But I hadn’t fought for him; instead, I waged a war within, punishing myself for the choice I made.

Now, here and now, it felt different. I was prepared to face anything—anything at all—to help Julian through this. Maybe it was a bit of a toxic thought, but I never subscribed to the idea that love was just a choice, something you could fight off with enough willpower. Love, for me, had always been something deeper, something you couldn’t just turn on or off. And right now, I was ready to fight for it.

He exhaled with relief. “You’re my everything,” he murmured, a hint of melancholy in his voice.

I knew it was risky to take him back so quickly. In fact, it was a disaster for my mental health. But deep down, I knew I wouldn’t regret it. I felt the weight of his gaze on me, and now I also turned self-absorbed, consumed with my own desires. I too needed him to put me out of my misery.

“I believe you can do this,” I whispered against his mouth. “There’s so much you have going for you.”

“Lucie, I often don’t feel that way.” Julian’s beautiful face hovered just an inch from mine. “I know that’s true that I have successful businesses,” he said softly, “but if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be going to rehab right now. I have money and fame... and sometimes, not even that can ease the weight of my depression. The meds don’t always help me forget about my mom.” His eyes glistened, while he tried to hide it.

It could have upset me, but I wasn’t. After all, I knew that most addicts not only had a genetic predisposition but also carried deep trauma that shaped their struggles. His mother dying from an overdose on his birthday was one of them. I furrowed my brow but stayed quiet. This was the time to listen, like really listen.

“I’ve always carried this darkness, and when I’m on it, the world just seems a little softer, easier to endure. I can finally let my guard down.”

I squeezed his hand gently. “Let’s talk more about it, okay? But inside?” A wave of unease washed over me, a strange feeling that Will had overheard part of our conversation, even though he wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Julian followed me silently, his steps heavy. But we barely made it a few feet before he sank down onto the bottom steps of our staircase, his body folding in on itself as his expression shattered. I shut the door with a thud.

“Everything you’ve told me makes sense. But drugs aren’t a way to make anything right. They’re just a temporary escape and you don’t need one right now. Niccolo’s nightmare is over.” I reminded him.

“I didn’t start using until my late 20s,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But the simple act of it made me feel close to her—Lucie. And that scares me.”

I realized he was still talking about his mom.

“She passed away, Julian,” I said, my voice as soft as I could make it. “Because of her addiction. You’ve got too much to live for, and you will heal. You don’t want to end up the same way, do you?”

He shook his head, as if trying to shake off the weight of it all, then gave me a faint but certain smile—a quiet acknowledgment that, despite everything, there was still something between us that held him together. “No, not when I look at you.” Without another word, he pulled me closer, settling me in his lap. His fingers brushed the skin on my thigh, and even just that was enough to get me reeling. For a suspended moment, neither one of us moved. The stillness hung in the air, but the rhythm of our breaths grew uneven, breaking into something more jagged.

It had been over a week since I’d been with him, and his presence only exacerbated the physical longing inside me. A sudden, wild temptation sank deep into my bones, stirring a desire within me I hadn’t expected. I suddenly didn’t care that he was probably still high, or that this might not be the healthiest choice for me. I just wanted to prove to him that we were worth fighting for—and selfishly, I also needed him to put out the lust building within me.

He kissed me gently at first, but when he sensed the heat already building between us, he took my lips with a fierce intensity. We slowly backed into the bedroom, then frantically pushed each other’s clothing off. His jacket. Then his tie. My pants. His shirt. Soon, I was down just to my tank top and my poor excuse for panties.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Julian leaned down on me. In a matter of seconds, he’d gained all his confidence back.

“Yes,” I breathed out. I grabbed his hand and brought it in between my legs. He didn’t bother to slide my V string off, just pushed its silk to the side, then guided his fingers into me. “God, you’re so wet,” he hissed. “You needed this, didn’t you? You needed me…”

The tender tissues grasped at plunging fingers. I writhed and bucked, as he pushed my legs more apart like a man starved.

“Baby, you like when I do this to you? Because you’re drenching the sheets,” he circled my clit with satisfaction.

“More,” I moaned while I felt his erection pulsate again my groin. I arched my back, lost in the heavenly sensations he was giving me. “Julian,” I cried out.

He tore his fingers out of me just when I was nearing a rapid orgasm. “Tell me you need me to be inside you,” he half pleaded, half demanded.

“Yes, please,” he received only a whimper of a response.

“Lucie,” he groaned my name, as he grabbed my hips with both hands, pulling me back. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Julian stirred emotions within me emotions that I’d never had before—an intoxicating blend of vulnerability and desire. Paired with the raw intensity of his touch, it was a volatile mix, one that pulled me deeper than I ever expected to go.

As if I needed more arousal, he bit down my nipples through my thin tank top, then boldly took the glass of water on the nightstand and dripped it on me as an unexpected surprise. “Oh fuck,” I exclaimed as the coolness of it felt stimulating. His pointer finger pulsed over my areola, the heat now spreading through my entire body. With one swift move, he lifted the tank top entirely, his palms now massaging my breasts up and down.

“Damn,” I reached for his heavy engorged cock to return the favor. I planned to go down on him with stamina. But Julian, even if for just a moment stopped me.

What could he possibly want to say now? Blood pounded in my ears because I was so ready for him to take me.

“Are you sure this is the right move for you?” His eyes now searched mine with tenderness. He found more self-control in the end than I’d had. “I’m already grateful you let me come home, to be with you,” he murmured, gently tucking a tendril of hair behind my ear. “I want to make sure you don’t have any regrets.”

Maybe it would have been the wise choice to step back, give myself some space, and process everything. But my mind was fixated on just one thing. “Julian, I’ve never been surer.”

Without me begging further, he pinned me against the bed and drove into me with one go.

I spread my thighs apart to feel him deeper while he pounded me with the force of our love. The pleasure was so intense that my fears no longer burdened me. Julian grunted and moved inside me fast, then slowed down to savor the moment. That was also the moment for me when I was most likely to come, and while I tried hard not to, my body craved it. I spasmed as warmth rolled through me.

It was as if he knew my body inside out. “You feel so good, so tight,” he rammed his cock into me over and over.

But it wasn’t all animalistic. “I love you so much, Lucie,” he moaned as we both began to gasp for breaths.

I dug my fingers deeper into the skin of his back, feeling him tense beneath my touch. “I love you so much,” I whispered, letting the steady beat of his heart anchor me as he collapsed against my chest. I wasn’t ready to face the harshness of reality or the days to come, but for tonight, we had each other to drown it all out. And yet, as our lips met, a familiar numbness spread through mine, a tingling sensation—the only sign of the darkness that loomed ahead. The one sign of how far I’d gone to love him.

We lay there for a while, catching our breath in the soft glow of the moonlight. Would we stay up until almost morning? Time was slipping away, and soon he would have to leave again, for what could be a long while.

Not ready to sleep, we sank into a long conversation that unraveled the layers of everything that had come before us—every heartbreak, every scar. The pain poured out, raw and unspoken, but somehow, by some quiet miracle, it seemed to dissolve as swiftly as it had appeared. Beneath the roughness of his words and the intensity of his demeanor, I saw the truth of our love—it was tender, sweet, and filled with care. It was ours, with its ragged edges, secrets, and suffering, but still, it was ours.

“I need your help, baby,” he pleaded quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this without you.” Our faces were so close now that I could count the stubble on his scruffy jaw. It was then that I noticed that he was afraid. “For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I am in control, Lucie.”

I pulled him into my arms, cradling him close. “I am here,” I promised. “Rose is going to be fine, everything is going to be alright.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered, and the rest of the night was spent with him sobbing in my arms, each shaky breath heavy with pain. I felt the weight of his grief—his mom, the memories, and the guilt of letting me down.

He’ll overcome this, I thought, trying to convince myself that this was just another hurdle in his unstable life. On the outside, Julian Valmont was the billionaire who had it all, but on the inside, he was a chaotic painting of heavy emotions. Beneath the polished surface, there were cracks, hidden scars that only a few ever saw. And as much as I wanted to believe he could heal, I feared the journey would take more from him than he knew.

The following day, we woke up around sunrise, both of us restless and unable to find any real peace. Julian, perhaps still riding the high from the night before, wasn’t easy to read. I didn’t ask about it—partly because I knew the truth: it would likely take medication to help him through the withdrawal, a process far from simple.

I texted Amanda to let her know I needed a sick day. My entire first year at Apogee , I’d never taken one. But I felt deep in my bones that I needed to digest everything that had happened in the recent day. I knew that if I didn’t give myself time to absorb the new information, I’d break irreparably.

We brewed a French press, the steam rising between us like a fragile barrier. I tried to focus on the ritual, the comforting aroma filling the room, but my mind kept drifting back to his pull toward using. His addiction explained so much, including the angular cheilitis on my mouth that had flared up again after that night we made love. It stung when I sipped on my orange juice. I winced, trying to ignore it. Part of me wondered if some of the cocaine had been absorbed through my lips, making me a reluctant participant in his addiction. The thought horrified me—how could he put me through this without realizing the consequences? Truly, he likely hadn’t recognized it, but those caught in addiction often failed to see how deeply their actions impacted the people around them.

We spent a few minutes in bed, cuddling, both of us acutely aware that this would be the last time for weeks if not months. How long he would stay at rehab depended on his ability to recover—maybe two or three months? He expressed brief concerns about his business, worried he couldn’t run it from rehab. The first few weeks, they wouldn’t even allow him a phone, another disappointment layered on top of everything else. The rehab insisted visits weren’t recommended because patients needed to focus on themselves. “We’ll see if you can visit toward the end,” he pondered, a flicker of hope in his voice.

“I know you can do this,” I replied, striving to sound encouraging. Any doubts I had, I buried deep inside, clinging to hope for the best outcome. I wanted to believe in him, in us, even though the harsh reality of it all lingered at the edges of my mind.

While we packed his bag together, I glanced outside to see Oliver waiting patiently. I admired his strength to stick around through it all. He must have been upset with Julian for what had happened with Rose, but his demeanor seemed calm. I sensed he was in the same place I was—choosing to fight for Julian’s life, vowing loyalty. I waved at him, gratitude bubbling up inside me, and mouthed a silent thank you . He nodded back, acknowledgment passing between us.

Holding onto the belief that this was a brave step, I walked with Julian to the car. “I’m really proud of you,” I remarked, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ve come so far. Don’t lose sight of that now.”

He acknowledged it, though his fears about getting sober lingered in his eyes. Overcoming addiction was never a simple story; it was a monumental effort requiring consistent commitment. Before he got into the car, he handed me his phone. “We won’t be able to talk for a while, but I wrote something for you—messages to read each day while I’m gone. They’re in the notes.”

I smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness, then pulled out a thick envelope from my coat, holding it out to him. Inside were 30 flashcards—one for each day of his first month away. I’d written them while he was in the shower, trying to capture everything I couldn’t say in person.

He looked at me, mesmerized. “I know we tend to say the same things sometimes, but this is more than a coincidence.”

“I didn’t believe in twin flames before you,” I grinned, feeling a warmth spread through me despite everything. “But now… I think I’m starting to.”

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. “I think I’m a believer now too.” He placed the letters into the pocket of his coat, as if carrying a piece of my heart with him.

“Should I take any of your calls? Let people know?” I changed the subject, not wanting to spiral into tears.

“Whatever you feel is right, Lucie,” he shrugged. “I have different work to do now, and I told my staff I’ll be away for a while. Mr. Dickens is also updated.”

Being a CEO of multiple companies had its advantages, allowing him to step back. Still, seeing him so broken was hard; he’d always been in charge of everything when it came to his businesses.

“I love you,” he pulled me into a tight hug. “And about Bradley…” He inhaled sharply, visibly pained by the thought. “If it matters that much to you, go see him when you need to. I won’t stand in your way.”

I laughed softly, noticing how hard he was trying not to grit his teeth at the mention of his name. “Honestly, I have a lot of work to do, and I’ll probably just sleep in my spare time. The few hours I have left in the day.” I added with a hint of playfulness.

“Lucie,” his gaze softened, searching mine with a tenderness that made my heart ache. “Please let me buy you Amanda’s company. Investors put money into things that make sense, and you make sense.”

I appreciated it more than Julian could know. “I’ll consider it as back up option if I fail at my plan.” I mustered one last smile, though his care for me was sweet. My career worries suddenly didn’t seem as important as his recovery.

“I won’t bring it up again, but if you need anything, just say the word to me or Mr. Dickens,” he reassured me, his chin brushing gently against my forehead.

And then, in a heartbeat, he was gone. I stood there, watching him drive away, the weight of our shared moments lingering in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the hard journey ahead.