Page 68 of Julian

The corner of his mouth lifts.

I turn back toward the window. “I mean… yeah. This is… insane.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “Very much in a good way.”

The plane dips lower, the island coming into sharper focus. I spot clusters of buildings, winding roads, stretches of beach that look untouched.

And minutes later, after the smoothest landing in aviation history, we’ve touched down in paradise.

The door opens, and the first thing that hits me is the air. It wraps around me the second I step out onto the tarmac, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of salt and sweetness, like flowers in full bloom. After New York in December, it’s like stepping into another world. I’m so thankful for that.

I close my eyes for half a second, breathing it in.

“Welcome to the Bahamas,” Julian murmurs beside me.

We descend the short set of stairs, the sun sitting low in the sky, casting everything in a golden, late-afternoon glow that makes the island look like it’s been dipped in light.

It’s tranquil, serene in a way I’ve never experienced. I didn’t realize how loud New York always is until now.

By the time we reach the last step, there’s already a car waiting. A sleek black SUV, polished to perfection, with a driver standing beside it in a fresh white uniform, posture straight, expression professional but not stiff. The door is open before we reach it.

“Mr. Langley,” he greets, his voice smooth.

Julian nods. “Good to see you again, Timothy.”

“Welcome back, sir.”

Then his gaze homes in on me, polite, acknowledging. “Miss.”

I offer a small smile, still slightly disoriented by how seamless this all is.

Our bags are handled before I can think about them, loaded into the back of the SUV, and then I’m being ushered toward the car like this is normal. I guess it is for Julian.

I slide into the back seat, the leather warm from the sun, and Julian follows a second later, settling beside me.

The door shuts with a soft, solid thud.

And then we’re moving. Palm trees line the road, swaying gently in the breeze, their leaves catching the light in flashes of green and gold. The sky stretches endlessly above us, wide and open. I wonder if this is what heaven is like.

I lean slightly toward the window, watching everything pass by.

Colorful houses. Small roadside stands. People walking at an unhurried pace, like time moves differently here. Slower. With no frantic, crazed energy.

“Do you come here often?” I ask, glancing at Julian.

“Not as often as I should,” he admits. “But enough.”

I nod, turning back to the view.

“I can see why you’d want to,” I say quietly. “I mean, I get why you want to come when you’re able, though I know you have so much on your plate that it’s probably hard to find the time.”

The road curves, opening to a stretch of coastline, and I lose my breath.

The water is right there. It looks straight out of a postcard, the kind of image you assume is edited until you see it with your own eyes and realize—it isn’t. It’s real!

“That’s… wow,” I whisper.