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I put my hand on his again, and at least he doesn’t recoil or pull away although his fingers tremble a bit.
“It’s going to be fine, Julian. I’m so sorry,” I reiterate in a gentle tone.
He nods, his expression stiff as he stares at the table.
“Thanks, but there have been consequences. Basically, I think I’m afraid of abandonment. I think I have severe abandonment issues after being left by my mother, and then passed around from foster home to foster home for the first part of my life. The situation was so unstable when I was a child, and I think I’m terrified of people leaving me behind.”
I pause to look at him.
“That’s normal, Julian. No one wants to be abandoned, especially after what you’ve been through.”
He nods, the skin around his eyes tense.
“Yes, but it means I can’t have sex with any woman but a prostitute. If I’m paying for sex, then it means that she can’t leave me, and so I can perform. But if there’s a chance of an attachment, then …” his voice trails off.
“Then you get ED,” I finish for him.
He inhales a long, shuddering breath and nods before jerking his chin up to pin me with blazing blue eyes.
“As a result, I don’t get do relationships,” he bites out. “Club Z works for me for a reason.”
I’m silent for a full minute, letting his words sink in. Meanwhile, Julian stares at the tabletop in misery once more.
“I’m a freak,” he mumbles, burying that dark head in his hands. “I’m totally, utterly fucked up and you should leave me, Lindy.”
I pull his fists from his head and cradle them in mine.
“No,” I breathe, trying to fill him with hope. “You’re not a freak, Julian, nor are you messed up. At least, not any more than anyone else who’s been what you’ve been through. Your abandonment at a young age must have been heartbreaking, and my soul aches for the hurt you must have endured as a child. I’m so sorry for about that, and how it’s affected you. No one deserves that, much less a child.”
Am I imagining things, or are there tears in the billionaire’s eyes? But I squeeze his hands and Julian manages a watery smile in turn.
“Thanks, Linds,” he rasps. “I appreciate your empathy.”
I nod.
“I know how horrific this must be for you,” I say, squeezing his hands once more. “But I want you to know that we’re going to work through this together. I can help you.”
He shakes his head.
“How?” he finally manages. “I’m a broken man, sweetheart. It’s been decades since this happened and not all the therapy in the world has made a difference. I’m thirty fucking five years old, and I’m still messed up in the head. Why would even you want to try?”
The answer is obvious.
“Because I care about you,” I say quickly. “And I’m not going to abandon you. We’ll figure something out.”
He lets out a frustrated grunt.
“But what is there to do? I’ve tried everything and I mean everything, Linds. The best doctors. The best therapists. Sleep therapy. Light therapy. Medication. Fuck, I almost even went to the Amazon rainforest to see a shaman!”
I giggle despite myself.
“You mean for that hallucinatory drug? What is it called again?”
“Ayahuasca,” Julian says in a miserable tone. “It’s been used in South America for centuries by indigenous peoples, and they use it to treat everything, including depression and even addiction to narcotics. But my problems are more serious than that. I have fucking feelings of abandonment that no magical shaman can scare away.”
“Of course your fears are real,” I say in a soothing tone. “But we will figure it out, trust me.”
“But how?” Julian responds with a desperate look in his eye. “What are we going to do?”
I’m still for a moment. To be honest, nothing comes to mind immediately, but it doesn’t matter. I adore this man and I’m determined to make things work no matter what. A molehill, no matter how big or small, isn’t going to throw me off.
“I don’t know yet,” I say with honesty in my voice. “But we can get through this together. Trust me. I love you, and you love me too, so we’ll figure it out.”
Fortunately, my use of the L-word doesn’t spook Julian at all.
“I adore you, Lindy,” he breathes with misery in his expression. “But I can’t burden you with my problems. You’re a young woman with your whole life ahead of you, and you deserve better than an old man who’s fucked up in the head.”
I squeeze his hand again. “You’re only thirty-five, Julian,” I say in a humorous tone. “I’d hardly consider you old. Besides, I want to do this. I mean it when I say I care about you, and I don’t want anyone else. We’re going to stick together through thick and thin, you hear?”
