Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Julian's Kia pulls up in front of my building, and my stomach flips.
I smooth down my corduroy skirt and adjust my red jacket.
The black booties make my legs look longer.
I know I look good. I'm not trying to look ugly—definitely not.
But since this is the last time I'll see him, I don't feel too bad about it.
When I slide into the passenger seat, Julian turns to me, and the sight of his smile—genuine, warm, reaching all the way to those deep brown eyes—steals every bit of air from my lungs, leaving me breathless and scrambling to remember how to act normal around him.
"Hey." His eyes travel over me, warm and appreciative. "You look amazing."
"Thanks." I buckle in, trying to ignore how the brown leather jacket makes his shoulders look broader, how his dark hair curls just above his collar. "You clean up pretty well yourself."
"Pretty well?" He pulls into traffic, grinning. "That's all I get?"
"Don't fish for compliments. It's unbecoming."
"Unbecoming." He laughs, glancing at me. "You're the only person under thirty who uses words like that."
"I'm sophisticated."
"You're adorable."
The word hangs between us. I should shut this down. Instead, I smile at the window.
The meeting hits different tonight. A woman named Rachel shares about her ex-husband. The bruises. The apologies. The cycle repeated for seven years.
I grip the edges of my chair. My chest tightens. Images flash—sixteen years old, drunk at a party, a guy I trusted, the bedroom spinning, my voice saying no over and over until I couldn't say anything at all.
I shake my head hard. I never think about that. Ever.
"You okay?" Julian whispers.
I nod, swallowing hard.
In the car afterward, he doesn't start the engine right away.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Liza." His voice softens. "You weren't yourself in there. I noticed."
"Just the robbery." The lie comes easily. "Still shaken up about it sometimes."
He studies me, and I know he doesn't believe me. But he lets it go.
"My sister's place is just up ahead."
Alicia opens the door with a wide smile that mirrors Julian's. Before she can speak, a six-year-old crashes into Julian's legs.
"Uncle J!"
"Cooper!" Julian scoops him up, spinning him around. The boy's laugh is pure joy.
Alicia extends her hand. "You must be Liza. I'm Alicia."
I'm surprised she knows about me. As usual, I instantly overthink this. He probably just informed her about bringing a guest.
"Nice to meet you." I clarify quickly, "We met at a support group. For the robbery."
"Right." Something flickers in her eyes—curiosity, maybe. "Come in."
I watch Julian with Cooper—patient, playful, gentle. Building Legos on the floor, making funny sound effects.
I’m sure he’ll make an incredible father someday—patient and present in a way that seems to come naturally to him, like he was born knowing exactly how to make a kid feel seen and special.
It just won't be with me.
The thought cuts deeper than it should.
We're halfway to the car when I stop walking.
"Julian."
He turns, key fob dangling from his fingers.
"I can't come to any more meetings."
His face falls, the hope draining from his expression in an instant. "What? Why?" The devastation in his voice is unmistakable, raw and unguarded. He looks like I've just told him something far worse than me quitting the meetings.
"I just—" I stare at the cracked sidewalk. "It's not a good idea."
"Liza, talk to me."
"I'm attracted to you." The confession spills from my lips before I can stop it, raw and honest. My cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and relief at finally saying it out loud.
"Every time you look at me, I die a little.
And I'm with someone. Daniel. I live with him, and this—" I gesture helplessly between us, "—whatever this is, it isn't fair.
Not to you, not to him, not to anyone involved in this mess. "
Silence stretches between us. A car passes, headlights sweeping across his face.
"I feel the same way about you." His voice drops to barely above a whisper, rough with emotion. "You're all I think about, Liza. Every waking moment. You're all I dream about when I fall asleep."
My breath catches. I knew there was something, but hearing him say it—
"How serious are you with this guy?"
"I live with him."
"That's not what I asked." He steps closer. "Is he good to you?"
Daniel's face flashes through my mind. The way he pays for everything, cooks elaborate meals, and holds me at night. But also—the way he criticizes my clothes, my job, my TV shows. The way he made me feel fat. The rage in his eyes at the restaurant.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
"Liza." Julian moves closer. "Is he good to you?"
My heart pounds against my ribs.
"I—"
Before I can answer, before I can even process what's happening, he closes the distance between us. His mouth finds mine with an urgency that steals my breath. The kiss is desperate and searching, like he's been drowning and I'm air.
His lips slide against mine with an urgency that makes my knees weak, and I feel myself responding despite every rational thought screaming that this is so, so wrong.
Everything disappears. The parking lot, the world, every single reason this is wrong. His mouth is hot, but soft and demanding, and perfect. His hands cup my jaw, thumbs brushing my cheeks. I melt into him, fingers gripping his jacket, pulling him closer.
Heat floods through me—reckless, guilty, out of control. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself completely in the taste of him, the feel of his mouth on mine, the way he holds me like I'm something precious and breakable and worth fighting for.
I push him away, gasping.
"I'm sorry." He steps back immediately. "I shouldn't have—"
"It's okay."
"It's not. You're with someone. I crossed a line."
"It's… it's fine." My voice shakes. I'm breathless. My heart is pounding. “We're… good."
The drive home stretches forever. Neither of us speaks. The silence crushes me, heavy and suffocating. Every mile feels like losing something I never really had. I hate every second of it.
When we reach the plaza, I can barely look at him.
"Bye, Julian."
"Liza—"
I shut the door before he can finish.
As soon as I step inside my apartment, I race to the washroom and lock myself in.
Tears stream down my face—hot, angry, desperate.
I cry because I kissed another man. I cry because I'll never see Julian again.
I cry because somewhere along the way, I've become someone I don't recognize, someone small and trapped and terrified.
I cry because I know I can never be with him.
Daniel is still out — he plays poker on Thursdays and usually doesn't come home until late, which is perfect tonight. I'm in no state to see him. There'd be too many questions I couldn't deal with.
I eat a strong edible gummy and take a bath. I know I shouldn't get high—Daniel hates it when I do, but I desperately need it tonight. And if he notices my red eyes, I can just confess to the weed—he’ll never know I’ve been crying.
Little white lies.
He doesn't need to know more.