The confidence she exudes only serves to make me want her more. She’s everything I could ever need, and I fucked it up.
“I want you, Nea. I didn’t mean to freak out. I’ve just never felt like this about anyone before.”
“And standing at my door demanding I open it for you is not the way to apologize.” She’s right; I’m acting like the asshole she saw on her first day— the angry recluse of a man who had been broken one too many times. The man whose biggest fear was being left alone, but even so, all I wanted was to be on my own.
After Nea came into my life, I wanted more. Something different. That scared the shit out of me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turn, and I hear her breathe deeply. I’m so in tune with her, I can sense her emotions as if they were my own.
She doesn’t respond. The door shuts with a click, and I hear the lock turn. I don’t know if she’s leaning against the door like I want to. I don’t know if she’s crying just the way I picture her doing. But every instinct inside me fights the raging war within me. I shouldn’t leave, I should not walk down the stairs and out the door onto the sidewalk. But I do anyway.
Chapter 23
Nea
I don’t want to walk into the office today. I certainly don’t feel like seeing him. When Julian knocked on my door last night, I almost opened it and let him in. But if I did, I would’ve only fallen into bed with him because, for some unknown reason, I can’t say no to him.
My Uber dropped me at the end of the driveway, I needed to clear my mind before walking into the house. The stroll down the drive is long, but I take it slowly in the hopes I can think through what is going to happen when I see him. I have so many things I’d like to say to Julian. But none of them seems like the right thing. Yes, he’s made me feel things I never thought I would, or could, but I’m also not going to just move in with him because he asked. Then I’m reminded of how he ran off the moment he asked the question.
My emotions feel as if they’re at war with each other. But I’m not a lovesick teenager, I’m grown up, and I’m not going to let him sway my decision. I came here to find out who I am, to find out what my journey in life should be, and that’s what I’m going to do.
I definitely have feelings for Julian, and the thought of him not actually being divorced also plays its role in my thoughts. Actually, if I had to be honest, it takes the lead role in my mind because I’ve become the other woman, even if the man I’m sleeping with believed he was single.
It was a mistake to let him in, but I don’t feel guilty for what we shared. I enjoyed our time together, but it’s clear that our relationship should be platonic. And that’s what I’m going to tell him. I think this the moment I step up onto the porch and find him sitting on the bench, nursing a tumbler half-filled with amber liquid.
He looks like he hasn’t slept. And he also smells like he hasn’t showered in days. Even though I saw him last night. He doesn’t look up when I walk up to him. I know he can feel and hear me, and I know he can see my black Doc Martens that adorn my feet.
Slowly, Julian lifts his head, his gaze locking on me. The pain in his expression almost makes me cave in and drop to my knees to hold him, but I hold my spine straight.
“Good morning,” I say, but it’s stilted, pained.
“The emails I need done are on the desk,” he tells me, his voice only slightly slurred. He takes a long swallow of the strong alcohol, winces, then lifts his gaze to mine once more. “There are also caterers that need confirming, and I’d like you to get the gallery ready. I have someone coming in later to help set up the artwork.” His voice seems far away. He doesn’t ask me how I am, or even what I’m feeling. So, I don’t offer up anything more.
I nod and turn to make my way into the house. Even though I was prepared to tell him we should be professional from here on out, the way he’s dismissed me hurts. I blink back the tears as I grab a coffee before heading into the office.
I should’ve known that an asshole never changes. Frustration burns through me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m affected by his actions. I’m stronger than that. Settling behind the desk, I open my laptop and start working. Everything he told me needed doing has been printed out and left with notes.
I don’t know when he did these, but I have a feeling he hasn’t slept at all. Sighing, I sip my coffee before I get started on the emails. Once the caterer is confirmed, I open a job listing website to start looking for something else.
If this is how it’s going to be, I can’t work here. Suddenly, a glass shattering bounces off the walls, and I jump at the sound, but I don’t go to him. I have to force myself to sit on
