Ten hours on a plane and three in this Jeep with a random man driving us, and my mind still feels alert like I’ve been shot in the heart with adrenaline.
Or maybe it’s just pain.
My brain wars from one extreme to the other, split between wanting to smooth things over with Julian and reminding myself that he’s the reason everything went to shit in the first place.
And my stomach is already tied in a thousand knots from the thought of seeing Aidan again after so much has happened and figuring out who the hell this mystery texter is.
Not that I think they’ll be awake right now. It’s two in the morning wherever it is that we are, which I couldn’t tell you if you paid me to. I’ve never been to Egypt, and this trip isn’t exactly for sightseeing.
With every mile we drive, the nausea grows stronger, my legs shake faster, and the nerves in my stomach jumble a little more.
Julian’s been cold and aloof since we’ve landed.
Since he asked if I was his. Again.
And honestly, how could he ask that?
Even worse, how could I want to tell him yes?
It isn’t fair. Not when he’s taken away the choice entirely. I’m his whether I want to be or not.
And until that situation resolves, how can he expect me to figure out what’s real and what’s some fucked- up version of Stockholm syndrome?
But this Julian, this man sitting next to me with eyes like obsidian stone and a scowl that tries to turn you to ash, this is the Julian I knew as a girl.
I hadn’t realized how much he had changed with me until he flipped the switch back.
A swell of emotion surges in my chest, caught between wanting to beg him to just look at me and being thankful for the respite, because if he’s out of the equation, I won’t have to balance the way I’m confused over him with the anger I feel at the things he’s done.
I lean my head against the cool glass window, watching the urban streets turn to desert sand, and eventually, after what feels like hours of driving on empty roads, there’s a large warehouse- type building in the distance, with several smaller buildings sprinkled around the edges. The entire thing is surrounded by a fence, signs in both English and Arabic on either side of the opening to the drive that warn people not to trespass.
Finally, we come to a stop directly in front of the building.
The driver gets out of the Jeep and moves to the back, unloading our bags and taking them inside, and I sit still, my hands wringing together in my lap, waiting to see what Julian’s going to do next.
He doesn’t say a word, just unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car, so I follow suit, the quiet night air kissing my cheeks as I do. My muscles sigh in relief when I stand up, and I take a moment to stretch, trying to ignore the random pains from so much travel.
The sky is pitch-black other than the lights from the building, and I don’t know that I’ve ever seen stars shine so brightly in the sky.
There’s so many of them.
“Where are we?” I finally ask, glancing around.
Julian doesn’t even spare me a glance. “This is the compound.”
“Yeah, I got that, genius. I meant where in the country?”
He cuts me a sharp glare, and a thrill sparks in my veins.
Finally, some attention.
“That doesn’t matter.”
I roll my eyes, because I know he hates it when I do. “Well, that narrows it down.”
He spins toward me fully now, his jaw tensing and his gaze hard and cold. A slight twinge of fear drips through my middle, but it’s muted by the racing of my heart, excited to have his attention on me again.
“Let me make this perfectly clear,” he says, his voice low and controlled. “You are not here for vacation. You are not here to sightsee. It doesn’t matter where we are because you’re not to leave this building.”
I scoff, walking toward him with my arms crossed. “The fact that you think you can treat me like shit and then still tell me what to do like I’m a child is truly mind- blowing.” I’m not really upset; I’m trying to rile him up on purpose.
Just for fun.
Just to see how much it takes for his icy exterior to crack and give me back my Julian.
I lift up on my tiptoes, my nails scratching against his chest and our faces coming close enough for our noses to brush. “Better get it together, patatino, or else the people here will think you’re my daddy and not my husband.”
He chuckles, deep and dark, his head tilting as he stares down at me, reaching out with his veiny hand and cupping my cheek.
“If I want to be your daddy, then I’ll take you over my knee again.” My eyes flutter, leaning into his warm touch.
“If I want to be to your husband, I’ll keep you at my side.” His thumb caresses my cheek.
“And if I want to be your lover, then I’ll kill the boy you love.”
There’s something about the way he says that last sentence that has my focus snapping into place, wondering if maybe he’s so hot and cold, if the reason why he’s suddenly so desperate for me to tell him that I’m his is because he’s worried about Aidan.
About the boy who’s held my heart for years. The one who he had to manipulate in order to get us apart, and the one who up until a couple of weeks ago, I was sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Of course.
If the situation were reversed and I was in Julian’s place, wouldn’t I feel the same?
My mind flashes back to the plane. To the night before. All the small moments in between. The ones that we shouldn’t have had but couldn’t escape.
Somewhere along the way, things shifted for both of us, changing from something that I had no escape from to something I ache to escape into, and if that’s happening for me, wouldn’t it make sense that’s it’s also happening for him?
He’s not a morally upstanding man, but then again, neither is my father, and I’ve looked past all the things I’ve known Baba to do because of how much I love him, so what’s stopping me from admitting that what I’m feeling for Julian could be something true, despite the way it began?
I tilt my head, watching him in an entirely new light.
Maybe this is real for him, the same way as it’s starting to feel real to me.
He starts to move, to turn away from me and the conversation, but I’m not letting him off that easily. Not when he’s put up these walls that keep me locked out, when I know that he’s really hurting inside.
Suddenly, the questions of if I’m his make perfect sense, and it isn’t until right now that I let my defenses down fully, letting go of everything I was angry about, all the heavy, sick emotions, and allowing myself to admit that I care for him in a dizzying, painful type of way.
In a way that I’ve never felt for anyone else, not even Aidan.
My husband.
The man I’m supposed to hate.
He spent his entire childhood having to put others first without ever getting the love and attention of being chosen back.
So of course he’s putting up walls.
Of course he’s turning away.
I’m sure all this terrifies him as much as it does me, and it’s realizing that— realizing he’s having to deal with his feelings for me in the only way he knows how—that has me running after him to grab his arm.
He stiffens but stops in his tracks, and I move in front of him, craning my neck to stare into his eyes. My heart slams against my chest, teetering on the edge of a cliff, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, but I do know that I don’t want to be like my father, waiting until I’m on my deathbed to come to terms with my emotions and where I’ve failed the people I care about. And I don’t want to be like Julian’s mother, taking everything I can get from him and never giving anything in return.
I cup his face, his stubble scratching the palm of my hand.
He flinches, but he doesn’t push me away, his nostrils flaring as he stares down at me.
“You stubborn, silly man.”
Sliding my fingers up his jaw, I cup the back of his neck, lifting on my tiptoes while I drag him down until his forehead rests on mine.
“Don’t you know I’m yours?” I whisper.
His breathing is heavy, and his eyes close in a long, slow blink.
My stomach flips, and my soul bleeds, wondering if I’m too late. I should have just said it on the plane when he asked, but I wasn’t sure until this moment.
When it felt like I had lost him, even though he was standing at my side.
“It’s easy to get lost in something when you’re cut off from everything else,” he says, straightening up and pressing a chaste kiss to my temple. “Tell me again when we get back home, and maybe I’ll believe you.”
Then he grabs my hand and pulls me behind him to walk inside.
