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From Alina.
She still controls him from her grave. He still lives in the dark shadow she cast.
He always will.
I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing by sticking around, and I’m dreading going back to the house tomorrow morning. I just know that I couldn’t leave Will and Sam at this stage—not with a clear conscience. I need to prepare them for my final absence. I need prepare myself to live without them.
I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. My chest physically hurts at the thought of not seeing them again.
Ever.
More tears roll down my face. I don’t even try to wipe them away anymore. My pillow is soaking wet. If I let this poison seep out for long enough then maybe the infection will start to heal and the pain will stop.
I won’t feel so empty and cold.
Alone.
The Uber pulls up out the front of the house at 6:45 a.m. sharp., I pay the driver and climb out. The front porch light is on, even though the sun is just coming up over the hills.
The air is getting colder, and a small cloud appears in front of me as I exhale.
I wring my hands in front of me, walk up the steps, and I knock on the door.
Julian opens it swiftly. “Hello.” He says on autopilot.
I smile awkwardly. “Hi.”
He steps back to let me in, walking into the kitchen without another word, and I close my eyes.
His force field is back on.
Probably a good thing, to be honest. This is hard enough as it is. Heaven help me if he showed any real emotion now.
"Just take the car through the week," he says matter-of-factly. "I won't be needing it. On Fridays, I can drop you back home for the weekend. I'll have a car pick you up Monday mornings.
I nod and clench my hands by my sides. “Thank you”
He's wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt beneath it. Then there's the usual accessories: a grey tie, his black, immaculate shoes, and his expensive watch. His dark hair is shaped to perfection, and that's when I know his controlled persona is fixed firmly back in place. He's freshly showered and his aftershave smells like things dreams are made of. It's the very same aftershave that got me in this trouble in the first place.
Damn it, I should have smashed that damn bottle the minute he caught me snooping in his bathroom cabinet. Perhaps it would have saved me a lot of heartbreak.
I watch him as my heart gets on her knees and begins to beg to be back in his arms.
Cut it out.
He watches his finger as he runs it along the edge of the kitchen counter as if he's contemplating saying something else.
His eyes finally rise up to mine. “I’ll see you later then.”
I nod, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. He picks up his briefcase and he walks out the front door, never looking back or giving me any indication of how he’s feeling.
Sadness rolls over me.
I hope he feels as bad as I do.
Julian
I stare at the television on the wall, my mind a fog.
