dismiss me, but I saw it, the moment’s hesitation, and he saw me see it, and everything shifted.
Something was wrong.
Roxie settled it for us. She pushed her way inside, looking for Gretchen, and when Julian shifted to let her pass, I stepped in after her.
“What happened?” I reached for his shoulder, then pulled back, thinking better of it. I’d been such an ass the last time I was here. He probably didn’t want me to touch him. “Tell me.”
“Julian? Who is it?” Katie’s voice came out of the open door to the guest room down the hall, followed by Katie herself. “It can’t be Dad, or you’d have—”
I took a step back, putting more distance between Julian and me.
“Just a friend,” Julian said, turning. His voice was gentle—even more so than normal. But he still held his own body like it was something fragile. Like it might break if he were set down on the wrong surface.
Roxie trotted down the hall and sniffed at Katie’s legs. Katie reached down to pet her, then winced, her hand going to her ribs.
“The one you were dogsitting for?” Katie asked.
“Yeah.” Julian smiled. “Would it bother you if he came in for a minute? We’ll stay in the living room.”
“It’s your house,” Katie said. She glanced up at me. “Can I play with your dog, though?”
“She’s all yours,” I told her. “Just know that she’s a beggar and a thief. If you let her on your bed, she’s either going to steal your pillow or try to use you as one.”
“Gotcha.” Katie grinned.
“Take it easy, though,” Julian said, his voice concerned. “And maybe—”
“Don’t let a ninety-pound dog use my ribs as a mattress? Aye aye, captain.” Katie saluted, then stepped back into the guest room, Roxie on her heels.
Julian looked back at me, opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. He bit his lip.
“Living room?” I said, nodding toward it.
The words spurred Julian into action. He walked into the living room, sank onto the couch, and looked at me, hopelessly. Then he buried his face in his hands.
I knew I should sit in one of the armchairs across the room. That was the smart thing to do. The safe thing to do.
So, of course, I sat on the couch. I left a full twelve inches between us, though. That had to count for something.
Then I waited, and wondered if this was how Deacon felt, wanting to pry details out of me, but knowing he needed to give me space. Except that presumably, looking at me didn’t break Deacon’s heart the way looking at Julian broke mine.
“I was wrong,” Julian said softly. Like leaves falling from trees. Like a body slipping into the ocean. “I was so wrong.”
“About what?”
“Everything.” Julian looked up over the top of his hands. “You were right. About my dad. He was—he was hurting Katie.”
I saw red.
“He hit her?” I didn’t know why I sounded incredulous. I’d fucking known there was no way a man like Julian’s dad would ever change. Maybe it was just seeing the way it hurt Julian, having his trust shredded. “I’ll kill him.”
Julian shook his head. “No, it’s not—not that. He hasn’t hit her, but it’s—it’s different.” He closed his eyes like he was trying to block out an image. “That’s why I didn’t see it. I didn’t even notice.” He looked up at me, his expression pleading. “It was right in front of my face for years, and I didn’t see it. He was hurting her, and I just let it happen.”
“It’s okay,” I said, though obviously nothing about the situation was okay. I still didn’t even know what was wrong. I longed to touch him, to pull him into my arms and make it okay, but I knew that was a bad idea.
“You were doing your best.” That much was true. Julian had never given anything other than his all, and he’d done everything for his sister. “If you couldn’t see it, no one could have.”
“I should have,” Julian insisted. “Should have been there more, paid more attention.”
“What happened? Today, I mean? What… prompted all of this?”
“It was Regionals today,” Julian said numbly. “This big competition. And Katie was—she’d seemed a little out of it for a few weeks now. Tired. No, exhausted. And in pain, even though she was trying to hide it. Dammit. I knew for weeks that something was wrong, but I didn’t ask enough questions, didn’t—”
“Hey, hey,” I said, interrupting what was clearly going to be another