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The corner of his lip turns up.
“You came,” I whisper, realizing that this was what I want. I ran because I was scared, and yes, Julian wasn't honest with me. I also ran because I wanted to be chased, to be saved. We've been taught that we have to be our own saviors, do everything, be the strong female who can be her own superhero, cook and clean, work and have fun, have a family, and fix every problem that comes our way. Don't get me wrong, we can, but at what cost? I've been paying the price, and I'm bankrupt. I’ve fought so hard in the past. I tried to make my brother, Henry, love me again and failed. I tried to outrun Andrew and failed. Society would tell me the silver lining is surviving. Fuck surviving as the sole hero.
I want someone to save me this time.
I had it. Julian wanted to save me, and I almost lost it; I ran from the hero.
I wanted Julian to come here, explain everything, and save me. Maybe that makes me weak, a damsel in distress, but you know what? If being weak means finding refuge in his arms, embraced and understood rather than swallowed by loneliness and emptiness, then I’ll wear that label with no shame.
"Did you run because you wanted me to chase you?" he asks with a playful note. "Because I'll chase you, Pumpkin, till the ends of the earth, to the edges of the universe. Just say the words, lift that foot, and start running because I'll fight for your forgiveness till my dying days."
I shake my head; the movement is barely perceptible, my voice a fragile thread of sound. "I don’t know anymore. I ran, hoping... hoping somehow my feet would instinctively find their way back to you," I reply, my voice wobbling like a novice on six inch Louboutin high heels, matched only by the uncontrollable quiver of my lip.
He lets out a breath, transforming it into a smile that brightens his face. His smile reaches from one ear to the other, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Well, that just sounds silly, Pumpkin," he teases, the warmth in his voice wrapping around me like a blanket. Promise me you won’t run again."
I pause, a lump forming in my throat as I muster a swallow, the action feeling monumental. "I promise never to do cardio again," I joke. Then, as if guided by some unseen force, my feet start moving. Julian barely has time to put down the hot pot of coffee before I crash into him. His arms, those strong arms I never should have fled from, envelop me with such tenderness. It’s like wind cradling a falling feather, ensuring it gently, slowly, is brought back down to earth. That’s what I’ve been since I ran from him, afloat and lost in the wind.
“I’m sorry I ran,” I cry, burying my nose in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.
“Shh,” he purrs as he lifts and cradles me.“I’m the one who is sorry, Pumpkin. I didn't mean to lie. I just...I was trapped in it, and the only way I saw out would have cost me you. I don't want to lose you, Poppy. I can't. Please let me explain."
I pull back, searching his grey eyes. We have to talk, and I know that in just a few minutes, everything about our relationship will change for the better or worse. I know I can’t run, can’t start a new chapter until I finish the last. I just want a few more moments of him before we have that much-needed conversation.
“Kiss me,” I tell him.
“We should talk first,” he replies, his lips pressing into a soft yet firm line.
I shake my head,“Make love to me first. I just need you one more time,” I confess as I squeeze my legs around his waist.
One more time to remember him as my knight in shining armor and not possibly as a deceiver.
I’m a shrink's wet dream. I know this. I don’t care.
I’ll care tomorrow if he breaks my heart.
His grey eyes light up like strikes of lightning.“What if one more time isn’t enough for me, Poppy?” He cradles my hips against his core with an unmistakable need. "What if I need a lifetime?”
A lifetime together sounds like a fairytale. Those aren’t real. Why do we teach kids that they are? Happy endings don’t merely happen; they take a lot of hard work and effort.
Is that what Julian’s doing? Trying to fight for our happy ending?
I raise my hand and run it down the side of his face, over his high cheekbone, down his square jaw that is slightly prickly. He hasn’t shaved yet.“Are you seriously turning down sex to talk?” I muse.
His laugh is like a ray of sunshine over the thunderclouds invading my mind.“I’m trying to do the right thing,” Julian replies as he rests his forehead against mine. For a moment, he closes his eyes and inhales as if he is cherishing me.
His words resonate with me, right versus wrong. Julian has always tried to do the right thing. First, when he wanted to keep me a secret to protect me, and now I can see the sleepless pain my absence has caused him. Julian tried to stay away but failed. He tried to do what I asked of him, but maybe what I wanted wasn’t right. Maybe I needed him after all. Sometimes, the thing we crave the most is what kills us. Like too much candy, it tastes good, but it's a poison that will slowly rot you. It's what we need, not what we want, that will save us in the end.
I wanted a new chapter, but I needed Julian to help me end the last one first.
I cup his jaw, loving how warm his skin feels in my palm.“I know,” I reply.“I know you’re trying to be the good guy. You always have been. I see that now.” I lean in and kiss him,“Sex first, conversation, and pumpkin spice after.” I raise a brow, waiting for his reply.
The way his lips claim mine, possess them entirely, well, that’s enough of a reply for me. I wrap my arms around his strong neck and push my hips further into his muscular body. I feel his fingers dig into my flesh, holding me, helping to mold me into a stronger version of myself, a woman who isn’t afraid because he's by my side, whether as a pillar of strength or a shadow of support.
He starts to move, his kiss becoming more wild and untamed, then pauses.“Bedroom?” he grunts as his fingers try to inch under my panties.
“Last door on the right,” I reply as I bite his lip, trying to savor the taste of him. My fingers reach for the buttons of his shirt, but I can’t find them. He’s wearing a t-shirt, which means I have to break the kiss to get it off. I peel the shirt up, revealing his muscled chest to my eyes.
“Harper?” I question. Where the heck is she? Did she plan this?
