Julian’s home!
Her heart started to race and her breath hitched as she thought about confronting him after his insistence that she make a choice.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t ready, but there was probably a small part of her that was still afraid he’d someday realize that she wasn’t what he wanted. Logically, she knew that was her own insecurities, and she wasn’t about to let them rule her life. Not now. Not anymore. Not when happiness was so close that all she needed to do was reach out and grab it.
The aching sense of loneliness she’d felt since Julian had left started to lift since she knew he was home, ready to hear her decision.
She pulled her car into the garage, having driven her own vehicle since it hadn’t been run in a while, and it was a clear day.
Entering the kitchen, nervous when she didn’t see any sign of Julian, she set down the box she was carrying on the floor and took a quick peek at the contents before taking off her jacket. She hung it up, then reached for Julian’s coat, noticing it was tossed on the counter.
It wasn’t until she was almost through the kitchen that she noticed the French door had been shattered, the area around the opening red, blood streaked everywhere around the jagged holes that had been solid when she’d left that morning.
Carefully, she stepped around the glass, worried now.
Had someone broken in? The door still appeared to be locked, but the squares on the top half of one of the doors were almost completely gone.
Her heart sinking, she frantically looked around, her eyes locking immediately on the bloody body sitting on the couch in the family room, evidently asleep.
“Julian!” she exclaimed, jumping onto the couch to see what in the hell had happened. “Hey. Talk to me.” She gently slapped him on the cheek, noticing most of the blood was coming from his hands.
His jeans were covered with blood, and his face was streaked red, probably from him touching it.
“Kristin?” His voice was groggy with sleep. “Oh fuck. I’m having a nightmare.”
“Open your eyes,” she demanded, not sure if she should be happy about him referring to her as a bad dream.
His lids fluttered before his eyes finally opened and Kristin found herself falling into the deepest look of despair she’d ever seen. “What happened?” she asked breathlessly. “Why are you all bloody? Why is there a bunch of shattered glass on the French doors?”
“Why are you here?” he asked hoarsely, looking like he was finally waking up.
“I live here,” she said, exasperated. “I’m your wife.”
“You didn’t choose me. You weren’t here.”
Oh, holy shit. “You thought I left you?”
She was late, really late because she made some stops on the way home. But she hadn’t exactly been sure what time Julian would get home. She’d assumed it would be later in the evening.
“You did leave me.” He sat up and looked at her like he was seeing a ghost. “Didn’t you?”
“No,” she answered simply, concerned about his injuries. She didn’t ask any more questions. The answers were obvious. He’d thought she was gone, and he’d been so upset that he’d tossed back some drinks and started punching out windows.
“Your car was gone,” he accused.
From the smell of his breath, she could tell he’d had a few drinks. Maybe more than a few. “I drove my own car to work today. It has to be driven occasionally, and the weather was good. Julian, what in the hell did you do?”
She wanted to weep as she looked from his ravaged expression to his bloodied hands. Lifting one at a time, she could see some swelling, cuts, and lacerations. None of his injuries were life-threatening, yet she knew he’d done this to himself because he thought she’d left him.
“I hurt,” he answered, like those two words explained everything.
“I’m sure you do. Come with me. I need to clean you up. How much did you drink?”
He shook his head. “Not enough. I nodded off, but I’m not completely drunk. I’m pretty sure I’m still dreaming.”
“If you refer to me as your nightmare again, I’m going to kick your ass,” Kristin warned sternly. “Can you help me get you up?”
“I can stand,” he answered, his eyes still glued on her face. “Are you really here?”
“Yes,” she answered, impatient to clean up his wounds.
To her surprise, he did stand up pretty easily, and she took his arm and led his unresisting form to the elevator.
She was still concerned, but she wasn’t as terrified as she’d been when she’d seen his bloody body.