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Jack pauses, his expression turning solemn. His eyes remain fixed on his wallet half-open in his hand. "It was messy, Nat. I tried to help, tried to be there for him, but he just... withdrew. Became stubborn, more closed off, even cruel at times."
He shakes his head, a shadow of old pain flickering across his face. "I knew he was suffering, struggling with whatever he went through overseas, and with his wife, but I wasn't going to take the abuse. There's only so much you can do, you know? You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped." Jack's voice is tinged with regret, but there's a firmness there too, a boundary he clearly needed to draw.
"That's why I want you to be careful, Nat. I can see where things are headed, and I just... I don't want to see your heart get broken. Again. You've been through too much already."
His words, filled with concern, make something click inside me. It all makes a painful sort of sense now. Julian's been through a lot, more than I fully understood, and he’s still bearing those scars.
"Thank you for telling me," I say softly, my voice steady despite the tumult of emotions stirring within me. "I really do appreciate you looking out for me. I promise I'll be careful—with all of it.”
Jack nods, reassured for now, and heads off to grab our coffees. Left alone with my thoughts, Julian fills them all. I'm only beginning to understand his past, his pain. This knowledge doesn't make me angry or push me away; rather, it fosters a deeper respect for him, a profound empathy for what he must be grappling with.
I want to hear all of it. I want to know what he's been through, be the person he confides in, be the one who lifts him up. Of course, understanding his struggles won't magically fix the challenges ahead, but it will give me a clearer picture of the man I'm dealing with—a man who's been deeply hurt and is wary of the vulnerability that comes with new love.
Love… my heart stutters at that word as realization hits me.
I’m falling for Julian Rodriguez…again.
CHAPTER 15
JULIAN
The rain comes down in relentless sheets, a persistent drumming against the aged windows of the Langford Building.
Inside, the place feels different—emptier, somehow, more echoic. The rest of the crew has already left for the night with only me lagging behind, the sole audience for the storm's precipitous symphony. I'm wrapping up some final checks, making sure that everything is secure for the night, when my phone vibrates sharply against the wooden table.
It's the babysitter, her voice tinged with a slight quiver as she speaks. "Julian, sorry, I don't want to worry you. Everything is fine, Aria's asleep, but the storm's getting pretty bad. I'm a bit scared to walk home in this weather."
The tightness that had instinctually gripped my chest releases. I glance out the window at the thick curtains of rain blurring the outside world, understanding her worries immediately. "Stay the night," I say without hesitation. "Use the spare room. I'll be back soon, and I’ll drive you home in the morning when the storm’s passed."
"Okay, thank you," she replies, relief palpable in her tone. "I'll call my roommate and let her know."
After hanging up, I collect my things, ready to brave the downpour myself. Just as I'm about to step out, a sharp crack splits the air, jarringly loud even against the backdrop of the storm. My heart jumps to my throat as I whirl towards the window, just in time to see a massive tree limb crash down, landing mere inches from my car. The tree itself groans, its ancient branches swaying menacingly in the wind, as if threatening further destruction.
For a moment, I'm frozen, watching as rain and wind pummel the tree, its proximity to my car nerve-racking. The realization of how close I came to walking out into that, to possibly getting caught under that falling mass, sends a shudder through me.
With the immediate danger passed, and assured that my car is miraculously unscathed, I step closer to the window, peering out into the chaos outside. The storm has transformed the familiar site into something wild and uncontrollable, a reminder of nature's indifference to human plans and structures. I hope Nat made it home okay.
I take a deep breath, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away, replaced by a lingering unease. The building feels even more isolated now, enveloped by the storm’s wrath. The usual comfort I find in the solitude of the site is replaced by an eerie sense of vulnerability. The pounding rain, the howl of the wind against the old walls—it all seems to press in around me.
Turning away from the window, I decide against leaving just yet. The risk of more falling trees, combined with the treacherous driving conditions, convinces me to wait out the worst of the storm here, within the solid, if somewhat eerie, walls of the Langford.
Pulling my phone back out from my pocket, I call the babysitter. “It's a good thing you're staying the night, because I don't think it's safe for me to drive home in this weather. Do you mind keeping an eye on things until the storm calms down a bit? I'll pay you for the extra time, of course.”
With Aria already asleep and most of the work already done, the babysitter happily agrees, seeing as she's stuck there anyway. I thank her and end the call, trying not to linger on the disappointment of not getting to say goodnight to my daughter.
My one consolation is that Aria will sleep through it. She spent her earliest, formative years coming to work with me and napping at construction sites; she can sleep through literally anything as a result. Storms have never bothered her.
Settling into one of the empty offices of the Langford to wait out the storm, I find a blanket and toss it over my lap. The room is dimly lit, the only light emanating from a small desk lamp. The rhythmic drumming of the rain against the window creates a monotonous backdrop, lulling me into a state of watchful tranquility.
Suddenly, a noise—a shuffling, soft but distinct—shatters the quiet. My heart lurches into high gear, the recent break-ins flashing through my mind. Instinctively, I grab the nearest makeshift weapon, a heavy flashlight from the desk, and hold it tightly as I edge toward the door.
Peering cautiously into the dark hallway, my grip tightens on the flashlight, ready for confrontation. But the figure that emerges from the shadows is not an intruder bent on vandalism, but Natalie, her face partially obscured by the hood of her raincoat.
She jumps, startled by my sudden appearance, then lets out a small laugh of relief when she recognizes me. "Julian! You scared me," she squeaks, her hand pressed to her chest.
"Sorry, Nat, I thought you were the Langford Bandit," I joke, lowering the flashlight with a cheeky grin.
She nods, laughing nervously. "Sorry. I just didn’t want to drive home in this storm," she admits, shaking her head slightly as she glances back towards the fierceness of the weather outside. "Looks like I’m not the only one."
