lips drawn into a tight, angry line. I wanted to reach forward, smooth out all his tension, but I was too scared to move. Too terrified of breaking the moment.
At last he spoke. “I know he was lying,” he whispered. “I know.”
I startled in surprise at his confession. “Then why….”
“Because I doubted you, Rose. I doubted. I let all my issues take me prisoner, let them convince me you couldn’t be trusted, that I’d been a fool to let you in. That’s not right. I fucking hit him. I lost my shit when he said you slept together. That sort of anger is dangerous. I shouldn’t want to hurt someone like that, no matter the reason.”
“Oh, Damon,” I said sadly, reaching forward to touch his cheek, but he flinched away. It hurt, cut me deep to have him cringe from my touch like that.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “No, it’s not you. It’s just…I’m feeling very raw right now. I need some space to sort my head out.”
Again, that hurt. I didn’t want to give him space. I wanted to take him in my arms and hug him close, kiss him until my lips were sore. The past hour had been the scariest of my life, and I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to reconnect with Damon, solidify the fact that we were together and none of Blake’s lies could change that.
I looked down, noticing his reddened knuckles. He’d hit Blake. I couldn’t believe he’d hit him. I remembered the red welt on Blake’s cheek and knew it was true.
“Can I fix your hand? It’s looks painful.”
“No. I’ll do it.”
“Okay, I’ll…I’ll go, then,” I said, my words choked, on the verge of tears.
I took a step towards the door, but Damon let out a noise of frustration. He came towards me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind. My heart did one hard beat in my chest. He hugged me so tight it knocked the air from my lungs. I gripped his hand, squeezed it, and a long moment of quiet elapsed. Nothing was said, but so much was understood. I heard a runner pass by out in the corridor, knocking on dressing room doors and calling everyone back to the stage for the second half of rehearsals. I twisted in Damon’s hold and looked up at him.
“Today’s been rough. Let’s just…let’s take the night and talk tomorrow,” I suggested, hoping he’d agree, hoping we were okay.
Some of the tension fled his body. He nodded, brought his lips to my forehead, gave me a tender kiss, and then I went.
***
That evening when I got home, I told Julian everything. He sat and listened to my woes, enfolding me his arms and reassuring me everything would be all right. When I’d gotten it all out, feeling exhausted and drained, I finally took a proper look at him and noticed he didn’t seem so great himself. There were grey bags under his eyes, and his hair looked dirty and dishevelled. I also noted that I hadn’t seen him go out to meet with a client in a while.
“What about you? How are you feeling?” I asked him softly.
He sighed, glanced away, and rubbed at one of his forearms. “I’m okay.”
“I take it you still haven’t heard from Alicia?”
He shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”
I gave him a sympathetic look. “She’s not the one for you, Julian. She doesn’t deserve you.”
He let out a sad little laugh. “You’re right, she doesn’t. I wouldn’t wish myself on my worst enemy.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Alicia’s a selfish woman. She has this obsession with finding a reliable, kind man who’ll take care of her. That’s why she’s been so obsessed with trying to get Damon, but she only wants him so she can use him. You don’t need a woman like that, Julian. You deserve someone kind, someone who’ll love you the way you need.”
“So I can ruin them?”
I stared at him, troubled. This sort of talk came and went with him, but he hadn’t been down like this in over a year. We didn’t talk about it much anymore, because he seemed to have found a balance in life and was doing so well, but he suffered from bipolar depression and took medication to keep his moods in check. It was another of the reasons why he didn’t drink. Alcohol made him too wild and unpredictable.