Chapter 56
“I don’t know what this is anymore,” I said softly.
Julian’s fingers paused where they were gently stroking mine. “What do you mean?”
“This... us. Everything feels the same and different all at once.”
He didn’t let go. “That’s because it is.”
I looked at our hands, interlaced in the firelight. “I’m not the same person you found in that mansion.”
“I know.”
“I’m not the same girl who begged you to erase everything.”
He nodded. “I know that too.”
“And you’re not the man I thought I loved.”
Julian’s breath caught. “Do you regret it?”
“No,” I whispered. “But I wonder if we’re still the same story.”
He pulled me gently toward him, until I was curled into his chest, his chin resting lightly atop my head. “We’re a new chapter. That’s all.”
I closed my eyes. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not.”
“I wake up some nights,” I murmured, “and I can still feel Elijah’s voice in my head. Like he never really left.”
Julian’s arms tightened around me. “He left echoes. That’s all.”
“Then why do they feel louder than my own thoughts sometimes?”
“Because you listened to him for too long.”
“I didn’t choose to.”
“I know.”
I shifted, resting my cheek against his chest. “I want to forget again sometimes.”
“I wouldn’t let you.”
I blinked up at him. “Even if I begged?”
Julian didn’t smile. “Even then.”
“Why?”
“Because forgetting is what almost killed you the first time.”
“And remembering is what broke me.”
His voice was quiet. “Then let’s rebuild you. Together.”
I looked into his eyes. “You think that’s possible?”
“I don’t think,” he said. “I believe.”
We sat in silence, listening to the crackle of the fire.
After a long pause, I asked, “Do you still love me?”
He looked at me like I’d asked him whether the sun still rises. “Of course I do.”
“But I’ve changed.”
“So have I.”
“What if I’m harder now?”
“I’ll learn your edges.”
“What if I’m not soft anymore?”
“I don’t need soft. I need real.”
“What if I can’t love you the way I did before?”
“Then love me however you can.”
I swallowed the tight knot in my throat. “What if one day I decide to leave?”
Julian hesitated. Then said, “Then I’ll let you go. But I’ll never stop loving you.”
“That’s not fair to you.”
“It’s not about fair.” He brushed his fingers over my wrist. “It’s about truth.”
“Truth hurts.”
He nodded. “But lies kill.”
I closed my eyes again. “I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something, Julian.”
“You are.”
“And I don’t know whether to fall or to fly.”
He whispered, “Then I’ll jump with you.”
A single tear slipped down my cheek. “You’ve always said the right things.”
“Not always,” he said. “Sometimes I said nothing when you needed the truth.”
I looked at him. “But you’re here now.”
“I’m here now.”
I touched the center of his chest, where his heart beat slow and steady. “And this? This still feels familiar.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing mine. “That’s because some things don’t change.”
I kissed him, soft and slow. Not desperate, not claiming.
Just… us.
When we pulled apart, I whispered, “Let’s start again.”
He touched his forehead to mine. “From the beginning?”
“No,” I said. “From right here. From this moment.”
Julian smiled, and for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t sad.
“Then say it,” he murmured. “Say it so I can remember the sound.”
“I love you.”
And this time—
It didn’t feel like a memory.
It felt like a promise.