The instant I do, he grabs my wrist in a harrowing grip. I snap my eyes to his, wincing in pain. But he doesn’t relent. Something inside him snaps and he’s not himself, an old defense mechanism kicking in, forcing him to become someone else.
“Don’t.” It’s not a plea. It’s a demand. A warning. The atmosphere changes as he glares at me. Gone is my charming, endearing Julian. In front of me is a broken man. A haunted man. A shattered man. His entire body seems to tremble, his stare darkening as he squeezes my wrist so hard I yelp, tears forming in the corner of my eyes.
When he hears my piercing cry, he releases his hold, his eyes widening as he stares at me in confusion, as if snapping out of whatever trance he’d been in. Then he quickly pushes away from me and jumps out of the bed. I rub my wrist, flexing it, able to discern the place where each individual finger was wrapped around it. He focuses on my skin where a bruise is already forming, then looks back at me, turmoil covering his expression.
“Why don’t you want to talk about your scars? What happened?” My brain tells me to retreat, to drop it, but I can’t. I reach for him again, but he steps away, grabbing his shorts off the floor and yanking them on.
“I don’t talk about them.”
“But I want to know. I want to know this part of you. I want you to open up.”
“Why?” His tone is harsh, one I’ve never heard him use with me, with anyone. “Why do you need to know about this? It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter! It’s a part of you. Based on your reaction, it’s a big part of you. This is what people do when they care about each other. They share themselves. The good. The bad. And the gritty darkness.”
He stares at me, his jaw tight, then lowers his head. “I can’t do that.” He avoids my eyes as he walks toward the door.
I scramble off the bed, rushing to pull on his oversized SUNY sweatshirt. When his hand touches the doorknob, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, the only truth I know that will make him see that whatever idea he’s concocted in his head is ridiculous.
“I love you!”
He stills, his body stiffening as my declaration hangs in the air. The silence is so penetrating, you could hear a pin drop from a mile away. My heart thumps in my chest as he remains motionless, staring at the door.
“What did you say?” he asks in a soft voice, peering over his shoulder at me.
I advance toward him, my eyes unwavering. “I said I love you.”
“No, you don’t.” He digs his fingers into his hair, yanking at it, pained at the mere notion. “You can’t.”
“I didn’t want to believe it at first, either, but I can’t avoid it anymore. I’ve fallen in love with you, Julian.”
“No. You’re just in love with the idea of me. None of this is real. That hasn’t changed just because we slept together.” He opens the door, hurrying away from me, but I follow him into the hallway.
“Aren’t you tired of it all?” My words carry through the empty space. I can make out the typical morning sounds of the household staff cleaning and preparing breakfast, but I make no attempt to lower my voice. “Aren’t you fucking exhausted of constantly running away from anything that is real? I know I’m exhausted watching you do everything you can to remain closed off to everyone who actually matters. Everyone who cares about you. Everyone who loves you.”
He pauses, his lips curling, his fists clenched. A few weeks ago…hell, a few days ago, I would have dropped it, thinking it wasn’t worth the argument. But I’m tired of this. Of him pushing me away the second I open up. I won’t do it anymore.
I approach on timid steps, grateful when he doesn’t try to escape. “Take it from me… It is exhausting pretending to be someone you’re not just so you’re accepted. I did it for twelve years of my life…until you showed me I was good enough as myself.”
“This is who I am.” He remains in place, but his voice lacks any conviction.
“No, it’s not. I know it’s not. I don’t believe the Julian Gage who asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend for the summer is the real Julian Gage. I don’t believe the only reason you needed me to pretend to be your girlfriend was to get your project up and running. I see how you are. You’re resourceful. You already have hotels in several countries, so you know how to navigate all the bureaucratic bullshit.”
He shakes his head. The more I speak, the more tension seems to mount inside of him.
“So that got me thinking. Why would you possibly want me on your arm? Then it struck me. You only did it because you thought it would help you be accepted into these people’s inner circle. That’s all. Not for some project, as noble a cause as it is. You just wanted them to accept you. Why? Why do you care? Why is this so important to you? Why, Julian?!”
“You wouldn’t understand!” he shouts back. “You don’t know what it’s like being an outcast, of never being accepted!”
“So… What? You decide it’s worth sacrificing happiness and who you are just so some asshole one-percenter will talk to you? That’s not who you are. I know it. You’re not that self-centered. I saw pieces of the real you through the cracks in your armor.”
“No. No. No.” He continues shaking his head, his body trembling with the force of his anger.
“That’s the real Julian Gage!” I state over the lump in my throat, my voice becoming louder as relentless tears fall down my cheeks. I let them fall. At least I’m not hiding my feelings. At least I’m finally being true to myself. “Not this person standing in front of me lying through his teeth because he’s too scared to admit he has feelings for someone. That, God forbid, he might just love someone!”
My words must have hit a sore spot because he punches his fist against the wall. The noise startles me and I jump, my heart ricocheting into my throat.
“You can’t fix me, Evie!” he thunders, his eyes red as the vein in his neck strains against his skin. “No one can. So stop—”
“I don’t want to fix you!” I scream, my chest heaving through my heavy sobs. The house has grown eerily quiet as my words seem to echo against the lifeless walls. Drawing in a deep breath, I lower my voice. “I just want to love you. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“Because love doesn’t last,” he chokes out. “The second you get a glimpse at who I really am, at all the shit I’ve done, you will run for the hills. So let’s save each other the hassle now and cut our losses. You wanted a firm end date to our agreement. We’ve reached that point. It’s come to an end.”
“Is that truly what you want? To end it? To walk away and keep pretending to be someone else?” I look at Julian through my tears, desperate for him to admit he’s never felt anything as real as he has with me.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as the harshness in his expression softens. “This is all I know.”
I hang my head low, emotionally and physically exhausted. I want to shake him out of this, to slap him and make him wake up. Will it work? Is it worth it? I don’t know if I’m strong enough to pull him from the depths to which he’s already fallen.
When I don’t say anything else, he takes a step back. “Goodbye, Guinevere.”
I float my eyes to his, not saying anything. I just stand there, studying the apprehension on Julian’s face. He starts to turn from me, but hesitates, a flicker of indecision in his eyes. If this is what he wants, I’m not going to beg him to reconsider. Not anymore. I’m too drained to stay on his path of self-destruction, fighting against hurricane-force winds that will only pull me under and drown me. I won’t do that to myself. I don’t deserve it. Julian taught me that.
With a heavy sigh, he eventually turns from me and continues down the hallway. Just as he’s about to disappear into his room where he can hide away from the world, I call out one last time.
“You were right.”
He pauses, lifting his head, his eyes filled with sorrow.
“I do deserve better than you.”
He nods, his shoulders falling.