AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Don’t panic. Breathe in. Breathe out. Calm, measured breaths like they teach in labor classes.
I'm not panicking, per se. These are the three words every woman wants to hear.
I do want to hear them. I want Julian to say it again so I can record it and listen to it like the off-kilter psycho I am.
I just hate that I thought of Andrew when Julian told me he loves me. My breath quickened because my mind played devil and recalled the last time I told a man I loved him.
It was a lie.
I didn't mean it at all.
I never loved Andrew. I was scared of him. In our relationship, ‘I love you’ meant ‘I’m scared of you.’
My reaction is odd; that much is mirrored on Julian’s face. So I do what I should and just tell him the truth.
“The last time I said those words was because I was scared,” I reveal. That’s the problem with Julian; I want to purge all my hopes and fears onto him. He’s like a void that swallows everything up, but instead of spitting me out empty and broken, he fills me with hope and new desires.
I don’t miss how his neck stiffens. The truth is sometimes more terrifying than the repercussions of a lie.
I continue, “I had messed up. I made my ex angry, and I told him I loved him to just,” I shrug, “make the situation better.” I lick my lips, not tasting the burnt burger, just worrying.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to say those words back to me, Poppy,” Julian begins.
I shake my head, “You don’t understand. I want to say those words to you, Julian.” I lean forward in my chair and take his hands. “I do love you, and that,” I blink rapidly, “terrifies me.”
There. I said it, and I mean it. Really, I do. This is the first time in my life I have told someone I'm in a relationship with that I love them. It feels like a major achievement, a milestone that resonates deep within my chest, sending waves of exhilarating tremors through my veins. I wish I could run to my mom and share this moment with her, bask in her warm, proud smile. But I do have Harper, and my heart swells at the thought of confiding in her. I can't wait to tell her how I feel, to see her eyes light up with joy and understanding and, naturally, an endless list of filthy comments. Knowing Harper, I'll have a package waiting at my front door when I return, filled with naughty lingerie, crotchless panties and all.
“Why? Is it my cooking? I don’t always burn things,” he jokes, flashing me a gentle smile.
“No,” I laugh. That is why I love Julian. He makes me laugh when I used to only cry. “I’m so worried I’m going to mess this up, Julian,” I admit. I’m worried my past will come back to haunt me.
“You?” He deadpans.
I nod. “You’re so perfect, and I’m…me.”
There it is, the self-doubt that was shackled onto me because of Andrew's conditional training. I never used to be insecure or worried about what I wore or how I acted. Andrew changed that.
So why can’t I change it back? Andrew is in my past. Heck, he’s getting married. I was nothing but a toy he broke.
Pull on those big girl panties and put yourself back together, Poppy. Don’t let Julian slip away.
Julian interlaces our fingers and tugs my hand onto his lap, edging closer to me but still allowing me space to breathe. “In my eyes, you are perfect, and that’s why I love you.”
“I have a lot of flaws. I just told you some of them,” my voice is a whisper. Julian might not think it, but I am responsible for Peter’s death, and that will always burden me.
“Those weren’t flaws, Pumpkin. Your feelings are not flaws. They are how you feel. I might not agree with them, but I will always be here to listen to them if you allow me,” he replies, his fingers gently pressing against our interlocked hands.
My heart swells. I feel like the cartoon of the Grinch when his heart thumps and grows.
Is this what happiness feels like?
I haven’t felt it in so long. So many, many years that the feeling is foreign. It's euphoric yet scary, like a roller coaster. My stomach drops, but there's a rush of adrenaline that I want to chase. In my case, that adrenaline comes in the form of a sexy man with steel gray eyes and a strong will.
“What if I’m terrible in bed?” I try to sound like I’m joking, but it’s also another fear I’m admitting.
The mind is a fucked-up battlefield; it wants what it wants but also laces my desires with doubts. I have been fantasizing about sleeping with Julian, and then those pesky doubts gnaw at me. I’ve only ever slept with one man; I only had sex once. I’m not experienced, and a part of me worries a wet noodle will have more moves than me in bed.
“Then we’ll work on it. I’m a good teacher,” he brushes my hair back, revealing my fresh blush. “Is that what you’ve been worried about?”
