10. Julian
CHAPTER 10
JULIAN
A ria and I are nestled on the couch, watching some cartoon I don’t know the name of. She's engrossed, her eyes wide as she watches the antics of animated characters. I glance at her, my heart swelling with a simple, profound joy.
"Daddy, did you see that? He almost fell off the cliff!" she giggles, pointing at the screen.
"I saw, sweetheart. That was a close one, huh?" I respond, my laughter mingling with hers. These moments are my sanctuary, Aria filling my whole world until all the outside problems seem to disappear.
The peace is shattered by the shrill ring of my phone. Glancing at the caller ID, I see Natalie's name, and my stomach tightens. I'm still figuring out my feelings about the other day—uncertainty and desire tangled tightly together.
"Hello?" I answer, trying to keep my voice even.
"Julian," she answers, her voice cracking over my name like she's fighting for her composure, "there's been another break-in at the Langford Building. Some of the artwork... it's been stolen."
My heart drops as a series of emotions run through me, starting with disbelief and ending in frustration. "Damn it," I swear under my breath, immediately regretting my choice of words as Aria looks up at me with wide eyes.
"Sorry, Aria," I murmur, patting her head. Then back to the phone, "I'm on my way. I just need to?—"
I pause, glancing down at Aria. It's too last minute to ask the babysitter to watch her, and my guilt over leaving her so much lately wouldn't let me, anyway. Making a split-second decision, I continue, "I'll be there as soon as I can."
I hustle to get Aria ready, explaining the situation as best as I can to a six-year-old. "We need to go help Natalie with a problem at work," I tell her, slipping her shoes on.
“Who's Natalie?” she asks. The question is an innocent one, but so much more complicated than she could comprehend.
I decide the simplest answer is best. “She's another person who's working on the Langford Building with me. I'm working on the outside part, and she's working on the inside.”
“Oh,” Aria says simply, and I'm grateful that answer was enough for her, that she still lives in a world without the millions of complex layers that adults wade through every day.
"Is it a bad one, Daddy?" she asks, her small face pinched with concern.
“Is what bad, kiddo?” I ask, playing catchup as her brain shifts from one thought to the next without any indication to me.
“The problem at work,” she explains, pulling on her raincoat.
I force myself to smile, trying to assure her. "Well, it's a pretty big one. But we'll handle it together, right?”
“Right,” she nods, taking my hand with trust that only a child can have. We head to the car, our feet splashing through puddles already pooling in the driveway. I buckle Aria in her booster seat as quickly as I can, and then we rush towards the Langford Building.
The drive is short, the streets quiet. Aria's soft questions about the building and what happened fill the time, and I answer them as best I can, keeping the details gentle.
As we pull up, the flashing lights of police cars paint the dark sky with urgent streaks of blue and red. Natalie is there, pacing under an awning, her face etched with worry. Seeing her like this reignites a protective instinct in me, complicated feelings momentarily pushed aside.
Leaving Aria safely in my locked car with strict instructions to stay put, I rush toward the Langford Building. The scene is chaotic — police cars are stationed around, officers conferring with each other, radios crackling indiscernibly. I can only imagine how stressed Nat is over how things have panned out.
As I approach, an officer steps in front of me, his hand raised. "Sir, you can't go in there," he states firmly.
Before I can protest, Natalie spots me from across the tape. She jogs over, her expression tense. "It's okay, he's with me," she explains to the officer, her voice breathy with relief. "He's the contractor."
With a nod, the officer lets me through, and I quickly close the distance between Natalie and myself. Her presence is both a comfort and the very thing that makes my pulse quicken.
"Thanks for coming," she starts, running a hand through her disheveled hair, making it even messier—a look that oddly suits her, highlighting her natural beauty even amid crisis. "My boss called me, and by the time I got here, the police were already on site."
It's striking how collected she is, how in control. The teenage Natalie from my memories was famous for her explosions. I always understood them as evidence of how deeply she cared for everyone and everything in her world. The passion is still there—straining in her eyes—but there's a new maturity about her that gives me an even greater sense of appreciation for the woman in front of me.
“I'm sorry,” I offer, first and foremost. “I know you didn't want the police involved. Are you alright?”
Natalie's eyes seem to bulge for a moment before she swipes the thought away with her hand. “No, no, it's okay. This is serious—they should be involved.” Nervously, she tucks her hair behind her ear. “My boss knows, anyway.”
"What happened?" I ask, but my focus is still on Natalie; the raindrops clinging to her eyelashes, the flush of her round cheeks.
"Some of the artwork was stolen," Natalie continues, pointing to the far corner of the building where glass shards lay scattered beneath a shattered window. "Someone broke a window to get inside, but there's nothing else—no other damage. And no evidence. Whoever did this knew exactly how to avoid the security cameras. Almost like they knew where they were positioned."
My jaw clenches as anger surges through me. I want to stay calm for Natalie's sake, and yet I can’t help my hands from balling into fists.
"This was a professional job," I say through gritted teeth. "They knew what they were doing, knew what they were after. It wasn’t random. Someone planned this carefully."
Natalie nods, worry creasing deeper lines into her already troubled expression. "Exactly. This isn’t just kids messing around or someone looking for quick cash. This feels targeted. Do you think it’s the same person who vandalized my equipment?"
“I don’t know,” I admit, “but it's hard to think that three incidents in a row wouldn't be related.”
She shifts, and I can't help but notice how even in this disarray, Natalie's resilience shines through. There's a strength to her, a steadfastness that I find deeply attractive, and wildly inappropriate given the current circumstance.
My hand lifts to touch her, to comfort her in some way, but I think better of it, letting it fall back to my side.
"It’s going to be okay," I offer instead. "We’ll figure this out. We’ll review everything again, recheck all the footage, see if we missed anything that could point us to the thief."
Natalie meets my gaze, her eyes deep and soft, vulnerable. "I’m glad you’re here," she admits, and I smile despite myself.
"I'm gonna check on Aria," I say, a poor excuse to put space between us. But if I don't step away now, I'll probably end up doing something I'll regret. "No babysitter on short notice, so... she's in the car."
"Oh," Natalie's eyes widen in surprise. "Of course. Yeah, go ahead," she gets out.
I head back to the car where Aria, still nestled in the backseat, watches with sleepy curiosity as the police lights paint patterns across the interior. Her tired features are furrowed with concern even as she fights to stay awake. Seeing her like this, caught up in the middle of a situation far beyond her usual world, tightens something in my chest.
"Hey, sweetheart," I say softly as I open the door, the noise of the ongoing investigation a dull roar behind me. "Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll be heading home soon, and you can go straight to bed, alright?"
Aria nods, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Was it a bad guy, Daddy?" Her voice is small, worried.
I smile, imagining what sort of creeping, masked bandit her little mind must be dreaming up. “Don't you worry about that,” I soothe. “Whatever happened, the police are going to figure it out. Remember what we say when we're playing superheroes?”
“The good guys always win?” she asks, searching my face for reassurance.
“Exactly.” I give her a quick kiss on the forehead, my fingers lingering below her tiny chin. “And remember, Daddy always keeps you safe.”
Finally relaxed, she leans back into her seat, a yawn escaping her. "Okay."
As I close the door, one of the officers calls me over for a brief questioning. It’s clear from their tone and approach that they don’t see me as a suspect, but are just doing a routine check.
"Do you know anyone who would want to break into the building?" the officer asks, his notebook poised.
I shake my head with a frustrating sense of helplessness. "No, I honestly can’t think of anyone. Everyone involved in the project wants the best for the building."
The officer nods, jotting down notes. "We’re still investigating, and we'll keep you updated. Thank you for your cooperation."
After being let go, I walk back to the car, my thoughts heavy with the night’s events. Just as I reach the car, Natalie approaches, her earlier anxiety replaced by a gentle concern. "Is everything okay? Were they able to give you any more information?"
I shake my head, offering a weary smile. "Not much more to know right now. They're still investigating."
Natalie nods, stepping a little closer. “That's what they told me, too.” The chaos of the scene around us seems to recede, the focus narrowing to just the two of us. "Thank you for coming," she says for the second time tonight. "It means a lot."
And for the second time tonight, I'm compelled to touch her. But this time, I can't fight it.
Reaching out, I gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the contact small but weighted with feeling. "Thanks for calling.”
Her eyes meet mine, and something unspoken passes between us. I feel a little thrill down my spine, arousal making my body hot.
Now is not the time, I tell myself with a scowl.
"It’s late," I murmur, glancing back at Aria, who’s now dozing off. "I should probably get her home."
Natalie follows my gaze, her eyes softening as they land on Aria in the backseat. For a moment, she's silent, her mouth hanging open slightly as if she’s about to speak, but the words never come.
Finally, she nods, her reverie broken. She gives my hand a quick squeeze before stepping back.
“Right, of course.” There’s another pause. I can practically see the gears turning in Nat's brain, her eyes flicking back and forth between mine. And then, in what seems like a split-second decision, she asks, "Listen, can we talk for just a second?”
I hesitate, knowing full well that if I go with her, something will happen between us that I really am not ready for. The events of yesterday have played in my mind all day as I tried to come to some kind of conclusion. I don't want to stop seeing Natalie, but I wouldn't be able to bear a “friends with benefits" situation between the two of us.
But it's Natalie. And her earnest expression staring back at me makes my knees weak and compels me to agree.
"Sure," I relent, nodding towards a quieter spot away from the car and Aria’s ears.
Under the dim glow of a streetlamp, Natalie turns to face me. The flickering light casts shadows that dance across her face, highlighting the intensity of her eyes as the rain above us begins to slow. "I haven’t been able to stop thinking about... us," she confesses, her words trailing off as if searching for solidity.
Her hand reaches out, resting lightly on my chest, her touch sparking a warmth that radiates through my whole body and stops my breath. The air between us thickens, and I shiver.
Driven by desire and the irresistible pull I feel towards her, I close the distance, my hands framing her face. The first touch of our lips is tentative, a question posed in the silence of the night. As Natalie responds, the kiss deepens, growing more urgent, more insistent. My tongue tastes her mouth, teeth nipping at her full, soft lips.
The sensation of her lips against mine, the softness of her skin under my fingertips, and the sweet, intoxicating scent that I'm convinced is something uniquely Nat—it’s so much it's almost painful. The kiss is fiery, each movement stoking the flames of a desire that I've tried to temper, tried to rationalize away since the last time we kissed.
Natalie's fingers thread through my hair, pulling me closer, and I respond in kind, my hands traveling down her back, pressing her body against mine. The heat between us burns fiercely, each kiss feeding the fire, each touch a declaration of the attraction that refuses to be ignored.
It's so similar to the first time—our very first kiss, all those years ago. Memories of her from that day flood my mind. How much she wanted us to be together. How I broke her heart.
That’s all I’ve done for years; break one heart after another, never on purpose but unable to help myself. Because the horrible truth is that I've never been enough. Not for Nat, not for Tara.
What if I do that to her again? I guess the better question is, could I put myself through that again? It seems so horribly inevitable.
As the kiss breaks, the reality of the situation crashes over me like cold water. Stepping back, I catch my breath, the taste of her still lingering on my lips. The look in her eyes— heady and shining—forces the words out of me.
"This can’t keep happening, Nat," I say, the statement paining me even as it forms.
Her expression falters, brows knitting. "Why? What’s wrong?"
I wipe the gathered raindrops from my forehead, struggling to articulate the emotions tumbling inside me. "I have Aria to think about," I start, my voice firm despite the ache in my heart. "She’s my world, and I can’t... I can’t give you whatever it is you’re looking for."
The admission hangs heavy in the air, a barrier thrown up in defense against potential heartache. Natalie steps back, her hand falling away from mine, and I feel the loss keenly, the absence of her warmth making my pulse thud.
"I understand," she says after a long pause, her voice steady but her eyes pointedly avoiding mine. "Let’s just forget this ever happened."
“I think that’s for the best.” The words are like acid in my mouth and my stomach twists at the taste.
It's me that walks away first, clinging desperately to my unstable resolve. I know too well how each of my relationships ended; devastating heartbreak that would have been avoided if I was enough. Enough to provide Natalie the world she deserved, or enough to keep Tara by my side.
Being with Natalie now, as enticing as that is, risks not just my own peace, but the stability I've promised to Aria. It's one thing if I'm left heartbroken, but I'll never allow Aria to go through that again. She's my priority, the one constant in my life that guides all my decisions, and I cannot risk her wellbeing for a potential romance.
Even if it is Nat.
Opening the car door gently, I find Aria half-asleep under the dim overhead light. I reach for the blanket folded in the backseat and drape it over her, tucking it around her small form. Her eyes flutter open, a sleepy confusion crossing her face as she adjusts to being half-awake.
"Was that Natalie?" she mumbles, her voice groggy with sleep.
"Yes, it was," I reply, smoothing her hair back from her forehead, mesmerized as always by my girl’s intuition.
Aria yawns, snuggling deeper under the blanket. "She’s pretty," she whispers simply, matter of fact.
I chuckle softly, the sound brief and resigned. "Yes, she is."
With a final check to ensure Aria is comfortable, I close the door gently and walk around to the driver's side. Slipping into the seat, I take a moment before starting the car, the silence heavy and comforting. The key turns, the engine hums to life, and the soft sound of Aria's steady breathing provides a counterpoint to the turmoil that churns inside me.
As I glance up, preparing to pull away from the curb, my eyes inadvertently catch sight of Natalie. She's speaking with a police officer, her figure illuminated by the harsh glare of the streetlight. Her posture is professional, her attention focused on the task at hand.
She doesn’t look my way. There’s a finality in her focus, a closure that I hadn't fully expected to feel so sharply. Watching her, a pang of pure loss tugs at my heart, but I recognize the necessity of the boundary I’ve enforced.
With a deep breath, I shift the car into drive, pulling away from the scene. The distance between Natalie and me grows as the road stretches on and I head home. Aria sleeps peacefully in the backseat, blissfully unaware of the depth of my experience tonight. And I pray, for her sake, that I can keep it that way.