Chapter 66

Chapter 66

MADDIE

I paused on the small covered porch, clutching my bag against my chest as I watched Julian’s blue pickup truck. The rain was coming down in relentless sheets now, hammering against the wooden awning above me. I expected to hear the deep rumble of his engine pulling away, but instead, the quiet whir of the starter motor sputtered and died.

Julian tried turning the ignition again. The engine gave a weak, pathetic cough before falling completely silent. Through the rain-streaked windshield, I saw him sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

I didn't think twice. Pushing through the cold downpour, I hurried back to the passenger side, opening the door and ducking in.

"Battery?" I asked, looking at him with concern.

"Looks like it," Julian said, giving me an apologetic smile as he let go of the keys. "The alternator’s been acting up all week. I kept telling myself I’d fix it this weekend, but..." He glanced out at the blinding rainstorm. "Great timing."

"You're not walking home in this weather, Julian," I said firmly, shaking the rainwater from my coat. "Come inside. Stay until the rain lets up, or at least until we can call someone. I'll make us some hot tea."

He hesitated for a second, looking at my small, cozy cottage, then back at me. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude, Sofia."

"You just saved me from getting soaked earlier. It's the least I can do. Come on."

A few minutes later, we were inside. The quiet warmth of my home felt like a sanctuary against the howling wind outside. I handed Julian a dry towel to dry his hair and coat, then moved to the kitchen to boil water. The soft whistle of the kettle and the rhythmic patter of rain against the glass filled the comfortable silence between us.

I brought two steaming mugs of chamomile tea into the living room, setting them on the small wooden coffee table. Julian was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking surprisingly large in my minimalist living space, his shoulders broad and his dark eyes fixed on the flickering light of the single table lamp.

"Thanks," he murmured, taking a mug. His fingers brushed against mine—a brief, warm contact that sent a subtle jolt straight up my arm.

"It's nothing," I said softly, sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa, wrapping my hands around my own mug for warmth.

We drank in silence for a few moments before Julian broke the quiet, his voice low and smooth. "You know... sitting here like this, it feels nice. Peaceful."

"It is," I agreed, looking down at the golden liquid in my cup. "Oakridge is full of peace. I'm not used to that."

Julian leaned back against the cushions, his dark gaze resting on me. "Where did you grow up, Sofia?"

"In the city," I replied cautiously, sticking to the edge of truth. "Fast-paced, loud... full of people who always want something from you."

"Sounds exhausting," he said quietly. He took another sip, then let out a soft breath. "I only ever knew one person who left Oakridge for the city."

I looked up, curious. "Yeah?"

"My ex-girlfriend," Julian offered a faint, melancholy smile. "My first and only serious relationship. We were high school sweethearts. I thought we’d buy a piece of land here, build a house, and stay forever. But Oakridge was too small for her dreams. She wanted the city lights, the big opportunities."

"What happened?"

"She moved to the city four years ago," he said, his voice entirely devoid of bitterness, just carrying a quiet acceptance. "Within six months, she met someone else—some wealthy corporate guy. A year later, I got an invitation to her wedding. She got the life she wanted."

My heart ached slightly for him. "I'm sorry, Julian."

"Don't be," he shook his head, turning his body slightly to face me. "It taught me what I value. I don't care about luxury or status. I just want something real. Someone honest, grounded... someone who wants a quiet life with people who actually care about her."

His gaze lingered on my lips, then rose back to my eyes. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The air grew thick, warm, and heavy with unspoken tension.

Julian set his mug down on the table. Slowly, carefully, he moved closer to me on the sofa.

My heart began to hammer against my ribs—not out of fear like earlier today, but out of a sudden, overwhelming awareness of his proximity. He smelled of rain, cedar, and pure, intoxicating warmth.

"Julian..." I whispered, my voice barely audible above the storm outside.

He didn't pull back. Instead, he reached out, his large, rough hand gently cupping the side of my face. His thumb traced my cheekbone with incredible gentleness, a contrast to the fierce, possessive touch I had known for years.

"You don't have to keep carrying everything alone, Sofia," he breathed, his face tilting down toward mine.

When his lips met mine, the kiss was soft, sweet, and slow. It felt like a warm shelter in the middle of a brutal blizzard. A quiet sigh escaped my throat as my hand rose, resting against his broad chest. He deepened the kiss gently, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer against his chest. For a fleeting second, the heat between us flared—steamy, intense, and intoxicating enough to make me forget the cold world outside.

For one terrifying, beautiful moment, I wanted to lose myself in him. I wanted to use his warmth to burn away every lingering memory of Hades, every shadow of my past, every piece of the life I fled.

Hades.

The name hit my mind like a bucket of ice water.

My eyes snapped open as reality crashed back down on me. What was I doing?

I stiffened in his arms, resting both hands flat against his chest.

Julian felt the sudden shift immediately. Before I could even push him away, he pulled back himself, breaking the kiss. His dark eyes were wide, filled with immediate concern and respect, his chest heaving slightly.

"Hey..." he said softly, lifting his hands in surrender, stepping back to give me space. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry. I crossed a line."

"No... no, Julian, it's not you," I stammered, my voice trembling as I pulled my knees toward my chest, wrapping my arms around myself. "I'm sorry. I can't."

Julian stayed sitting a respectable distance away, his expression entirely gentlemanly, completely understanding. "You don't have to apologize, Sofia. I moved too fast."

"It's not that," I whispered, tears pricking the back of my eyes as I stared at the floor.

I couldn't use Julian. He was a good man—honest, kind, and looking for something real. Using him as a distraction or a shield to forget Hades was wrong. But more than that, the terrifying truth hit me: if Hades ever found out about Julian, he would destroy him without a second thought. Anyone who got too close to me became a target in Hades' eyes. I couldn't drag an innocent man into my nightmare.

"I have too much baggage, Julian," I admitted quietly, keeping the truth hidden beneath simple words. "My past isn't completely gone. And until I sort myself out, I shouldn't be doing this with anyone. It wouldn't be fair to you."

Julian watched me quietly for a long moment. There was no anger in his eyes, only a deep, respectful understanding.

"I respect that," he said softly, offering me a comforting, reassuring smile. "You don't owe me anything, Sofia. And you don't have to rush into anything you're not ready for."

Outside, the heavy rain had gradually tapered off into a gentle drizzle. Julian stood up, pulling his coat back on.

"Rain's slowing down," he noted, giving the window a glance. "I'll walk over to the local shop down the road and see if I can borrow a jump-starter. You get some rest."

I stood up, walking him to the door. "Julian... thank you. For the tea, for understanding... for everything."

He paused at the doorway, looking back at me with those warm, honest eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Sofia. Whenever you're ready, even if it's just as a friend... I'm here."

As he stepped out into the damp evening air, I closed the door and leaned my back against the wood, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I buried my face in my hands, letting out a long, shuddering breath.