Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The pasta is perfect—tender, the sauce rich and tangy with just enough garlic—Julian makes a mean spaghetti and meatballs. He pours more wine into my glass, his hand steady, but I catch the tension in his shoulders.
"You're quiet," I say.
He sets the bottle down. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"You. This Daniel situation." He meets my eyes. "Black roses, Liza. That's not just angry ex behavior. That's insane!”
My fork stills halfway to my mouth. "I know."
"Look, I know you're trying to be strong about this, but you can't stay at Reeves' anymore." His tone is gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. "It's not safe, Liza. Not with Daniel knowing where you are."
"I'm working on finding a place—"
"Move in with me."
The words hang between us. My heart stumbles.
"Julian—"
"I'm serious." He leans forward, elbows on the table. "I'll go crazy wondering if you're safe. I'd rather have you here, where I can keep an eye on you."
"We've only been together a few weeks. I don't want to pressure you, make you feel like you have to—"
"You're not pressuring me." His voice softens. "I want this. I want you here."
I twist the stem of my wine glass, fighting the warmth spreading through my chest. I can't believe he wants me to move in with him already. "Kendra will be thrilled, at least."
He laughs. "I bet."
"She really doesn't like me."
"What's not to like," he teases.
"I've turned her home into a crime scene waiting to happen."
Julian's mouth curves. "Well, I wouldn't like you either if I were her."
I blink. "Exactly"
"You're too sexy. I'd be threatened."
Laughter bubbles out of me. "Oh my God. You think Kendra's worried about Reeves and me?”
"Isn't she?"
"He's my boss. My best friend's ex-husband. There's nothing to worry about."
Julian takes a slow sip of wine, eyes glinting. "If you say so."
"Are you jealous?" I tease, leaning in.
"No."
"Liar."
"Maybe a little." He grins. "I've never seen you in action at work. Flirting for tips, charming drunk pool players."
"You're welcome to come by anytime."
"I might take you up on that."
"Please do." I reach across the table, lacing my fingers through his. "And Julian? Thank you. For this. For everything."
He brings my hand to his lips, kisses my knuckles. "You're safe with me. I promise."
I want to believe him.
I really, really do.
Julian's kitchen is all sleek lines and dark wood cabinets, the countertops a polished charcoal grey, and there's a small herb garden on the windowsill—basil, rosemary, thyme. It smells like coffee and something faintly citrus, clean and lived-in.
I balance my phone between my ear and shoulder, unpacking a box of my favorite foods and coffee mugs onto the open shelf near the sink.
"So lunch at the pool hall?" Jenna's voice crackles through the speaker. "Just like old times?"
"Except with Julian this time." I nestle my favorite mug—the chipped ceramic one with the cartoon cat—onto the middle shelf. "I want you to meet him. Officially."
"I'm so there. I've been craving those cheeseburgers like crazy. This baby wants red meat and cheese, like, constantly."
I laugh. "When are you free?"
"Thursday? I can drive down after my class."
"Perfect. I'll tell Reeves to—"
A sudden thud against the window.
I yelp, my favorite coffee mug slipping from my hand. It hits the tile floor and explodes into jagged pieces, ceramic shards skittering across the kitchen.
My heart hammers. My breath catches.
"Liza? What happened?"
I press a hand to my chest, scanning the window. A small smudge mars the glass—a faint outline. I run to the window to investigate further.
Outside, a bird flutters awkwardly on the ground, then takes off into the trees.
Just a bird.
Poor bird. I hope he’ll be okay.
"Liza?"
"I'm fine." My voice shakes. "A bird flew into the window. Scared the hell out of me."
"Oh my God, are you okay?"
I head back to the kitchen, and crouch down, gathering the broken pieces of my mug with trembling fingers. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just—" I stop, staring at the shards in my palm. "I overreacted."
"You're on edge. That's normal."
"I hate this." The words come out sharper than I intend. "I hate that he's done this to me. That I jump at every noise. That I just broke my favorite stupid mug."
Jenna's quiet for a beat. "He's messing with your head."
"I know." I toss the pieces into the trash, harder than necessary. "I've never hated anyone like this. Never."
"You have every right to."
I lean against the counter, closing my eyes. "I just want my life back, Jenna. I want to feel normal again."
"You will. You're getting there."
I nod, even though she can't see me. "Thursday. Pool hall. Cheeseburgers."
"It's a date."
I spot the envelope before I even reach Julian's door.
Crisp white paper. My name is printed in black ink.
My stomach drops.
I snatch it up, fumbling with my keys. Inside, I lock the door behind me and lean against it, staring at the envelope as if it might bite.
Two days. I've been here two goddamn days.
My fingers shake as I tear it open.
I found you.
Three words. That's all. Three words that turn my blood to ice.
I crumple the paper in my fist, rage flooding through me so fast I can barely breathe. "You son of a bitch."
I storm to the kitchen and throw it in the trash, shoving it deep under coffee grounds and yesterday's takeout containers.
How did he get past security? The building has a buzzer system and a locked lobby. But Daniel owns three rental buildings. He knows every trick, every loophole. He probably charmed some delivery guy or slipped someone cash to drop it at the door.
Or he came himself.
The thought makes my skin crawl.
I press my palms against the counter, trying to steady my breathing. The kitchen feels too bright, too exposed. I should eat something—I grabbed takeout on the way home—but my appetite's gone. The idea of food makes my stomach turn.
I found you.
He wants me scared. Wants me looking over my shoulder, jumping at shadows.
And it's working.
I pace the kitchen, arms wrapped around myself. Should I tell Julian? He'd want to know. He'd insist on calling the police, installing cameras, maybe even confronting Daniel himself.
No. I can't put that on him. He's already worried enough, already rearranged his entire life to make room for me and my mess. I won't make it worse.
I grab my phone, thumb hovering over Julian's contact.
Then I turn it off and shove it in my pocket.
I can handle this myself. I have to. Daniel's just playing his sick little games, trying to crawl back into my thoughts, trying to make me feel small and helpless again. But I'm not that person anymore—the girl who jumped at his every text, who second-guessed herself into submission.
I won't let him turn me back into her. I won't hand over that kind of control, not again. Not after everything I've fought through to get here, to this moment, standing in Julian's kitchen with my own choices stretched out before me.
But as I stand here alone, the silence pressing in around me, I can't shake the cold certainty settling in my chest.
He still knows where I am.
And he's not done with me yet.