Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Three
Entering the apartment with my shopping bags I’m immediately greeted by Julian’s enraged voice emanating from somewhere upstairs and reverberating around the spacious penthouse. Concern fills me as I cautiously make my way upstairs, the sound of Julian’s pointed words increasing in volume with each step I take. I guess that’s another reason to have an apartment with more walls: they act as a sound barrier.

“No, no, NO. You swore to me it was a sure thing, Gradin. You were the one who told me I was a shoo-in for a Best Actor nomination at the Oscars, and now you’re trying to tell me I’m not even a fucking consideration?! I’m not involved in any fucking drama or bad press so either I’ve been blacklisted for some ungodly reason, OR YOU FUCKING LIED TO ME!” he fumes.

Yikes…he didn’t even sound this angry when the police were over here. I learned the hard way that Julian doesn’t handle criticism or rejection well, so I don’t think I want to be in the line of fire when he’s upset like this. I quietly enter my bedroom and put my bags on the bed. I sit down, rummage through the first bag and pull out the box that contains my new phone, then get started on setting up and adding in all my existing contacts from my old phone. I’ll definitely have to send a text to my family and let them know my number has changed before they start to worry. I didn’t get anything flashy, just something cheap and functional.

As I’m going through the tedious process of transferring all my contacts, I hear a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

I look up as Julian walks in, his face still a bright shade of red and his hair a fisted mess as he looks at the two phones in my hands.

“Is this why you went out?”

I nod. “New phone, new number and I’ll only be sharing it with family and close friends. I’ve also made my Facebook account as private as I possibly can and deleted anyone that doesn’t need to be there.”

Julian frowns as he steps closer, “What about what the police said about trying to trace the call if this guy calls again? It could be their best chance to catch him,” Julian reminds me.

I take a deep breath and place the phones down. “I’m not prepared to take that chance. It’s easy for them to say, they’re not the ones who have to go through it. They expect me to just keep suffering through these creepy calls in the hopes that he’s on the phone long enough for the police to trace it – if they even can. It’s bad enough I’ve been forced out of my home and plagued by nightmares, now I need to be afraid of my phone too? I’m not doing it. I may not be able to find him or stop him from following me, but I can at least stop him from calling me, so that’s what I’m going to do,” I state firmly.

I’m not letting this bastard take more control away from me than he already has. At least this is something I can find a solution to and fix it. This is one aspect of my life where I can cut him off and say, ‘No, you don’t win this time’.

“I completely understand that, but if it means catching this guy…”

“No. I would rather live unafraid of my phone than take a huge gamble on my mental health for a ‘what if’.”

Julian sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Alright. Do what you think is best.”

“Thank you. I’m also going back to work,” I inform him.

Julian stares at me blankly, his hand frozen mid-stroke through his hair. “Come again.”

“I need to be doing something. I can’t just keep spending my days sitting around binge-watching stuff on Netflix. I need to feel like I’m living and working or I’m going to go insane, plus I’m out of money. I don’t plan to go back to the Starlight Lounge,” I continue, noting the way Julian flinches when I mention my other place of employment. “And I plan to officially quit soon and get my last paycheck. I need to be working, I need to get back to earning an income. I hate having to rely on you for everything,” I admit.

“Gee, didn’t realise helping to support and look after you was such an issue,” he responds acerbically.

“What? I never said that,” I argue, taken aback by his sudden change in tone as I get up from the bed. “Julian, I’m very grateful for everything you have done for me, but I can’t live like this. I can’t live as a permanent guest in your home mooching off you forever. I need to get back to some semblance of a normal life. I still need to pay bills and insurance and my family still need support back home. I have to go back to work. This isn’t personal, it’s practical,” I explain.

“I’ve never once thought of you as a moocher. I was helping take care of you because I wanted to, not because you asked me to,” he says defensively.

“I know, and like I said, I’m incredibly grateful for everything that you’ve done, but it was never a permanent arrangement, we both knew that. I need to start getting back on my own two feet and frankly, I don’t need your permission to go back to work,” I say affronted that this is even a discussion we’re having.

Julian scrubs his hands down his face. If he pulled any harder he’d start peeling away layers of skin.

“That’s fair. You deserve your own life, and I shouldn’t keep that from you,” he says as if he’s holding back frustration.

“Are you okay?” I cautiously ask. “I heard you arguing.”

“I’m fine,” he answers quick and dismissively. “Nothing that’s any of your concern, just my own bullshit I need to deal with.”

“Do you want to talk about it? I could make you some tea or coffee?” I offer with a warm smile. I don’t like seeing him so on edge, and after all he’s done for me, I want to be able to be there for him when he needs it.

“I’m not in the mood, but thank you,” he says with a forced smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. His eyes don’t have their usual jewel-like sparkle. They look dark and insipid, which I find disconcerting.

I nod, “Okay, that’s fine, but let me know if you change your mind. We could find something to watch together. That usually relaxes you,” I chirp optimistically.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Lani! Just leave it alone, alright?” he exclaims.

I step back, surprised by his outburst and seeming to realise what he’s done, I can see a brief flicker of remorse cross Julian’s face, but instead of saying anything he just turns around and leaves. I take a deep breath and sigh. I’m suddenly reminded that this is one aspect of Julian’s personality I didn’t like. He has no issues being there for me or wanting to take care of me or pamper me, but the second he goes to a dark place or starts to spiral he’s incapable of asking for help, and even when it’s offered to him he just slaps it away like it’s offensive. I’m trying to be understanding and patient, I feel I at least owe him that, but I really hope he pulls out of this soon. Or at least is willing to talk about it.

Deciding there’s nothing I can do; I focus back on what I was doing. Once all my contacts are switched over, I scroll through until I find the number for my boss at the diner and hit call.

“Hello?” Gary’s voice answers.

“Hi, Gary. It’s Nalani,” I respond brightly.

“Nalani! It’s so nice to hear your voice, how are you?” he inquires, his voice sounding sincere.

“I’m doing a lot better than I was, thank you for asking. How are you doing?”

“Back is acting up again, but other than that, I can’t complain.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your back, you really need to go see someone about that,” I remind him with concern. He’s been putting off getting his back checked for as long as I’ve known him.

“I’ll get to it eventually, I promise,” he assures me. Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Well…I was calling about coming back to work.”