I mean, okay, do I know that Julian likes me a bit too much, and I'm still friends with him despite that? Yeah. When you feel lonely and grey, you hang on to the nearest lighthouse.
He isn't the guy I thought he was, apart from the very brooding part. He's actually very caring.
But I told him from the beginning that, despite his gentleness, I can't open the door for him that he wants me to.
If you're curious about where I met him, it wasn't at Carl's New Year's party. There was no way I could have shown up there without Ben. Especially not when someone else's eyes might linger on me. But Carl, being Carl, engineered this perfectly professional overlap, so while I was called to consult on my next book at his place, Julian happened to be there, curled up on the couch with a movie playing.
And then Carl apparently had to take a very private call in his office that lasted almost two hours, during which Julian, very unbothered, offered me a glass of wine and asked if I liked the movieBlue Velvet. I said, "I don't trust anyone who does," and he laughed that deep, unhurried kind of laugh that doesn't care to impress you—it just is.
That was the first thing I noticed about him, that quiet steadiness that makes you feel at peace.
And then we started talking about everything that didn't have a place in ordinary conversation, about philosophy, about life as a series of half-spoken truths and our childhoods, the fact that we're both half-French and our parents failed miserably, and when Carl finally came back, pretending not to notice how close we were sitting on the massive couch, Julian turned to me and said, "I think you understand people the same way I do, through what they don't say."
That's how it started—with a simple conversation and that recognition that someone else lives in the same kind of silence you do.
Mara pretends to check her manicure. "So, there's no one?"
"No. Not interested in dating." I shake my head. "I'm in acommitted relationship with my pillow right now. It's going really well, very low drama."
She snorts, then gives me a sly look. "Well, there's only one romance of the decade anyway, right?"
The words hit like a tap on a bruise because I know who she means.
I shouldn't allow my thoughts to wander there for long, when I mapped my whole life around him. SoMa, Zuckerberg Hospital and other places I now avoid, just to prevent seeing him with his child because it would break me. And still, I care—as I always will.
"Mara. Ben must be a dad by now. Is it... a boy or a girl?" I ask, voice thin.
She blinks, for once unsettled, her eyes darting behind me.
"Did you seriously just check for the exit?" I look at her, breaking into a laugh. "Don't worry, I can handle it. It is already yellingPapà, more pasta?"
She gives me a crooked smile, but doesn't say anything.
"Come on, Mara. I'm not prying, but begging," I say, then sigh. "Ben locked his socials, and I'm not going to knock. Lisa went dark four months ago, so I have no chance of knowing. It still hurts me, but it might give me some closure."
She hesitates, then nods. "Okay. It's a boy."
I guess I wasn't that ready after all because my throat goes dry.
"A boy," I repeat, almost no sound and picture the baby. "I hope he takes after Ben. That he's all him, nothing of Lisa."
"Tell me about it. I pray for it daily. But it's... damn it," shehisses, her fingers tensing into an annoyed little gesture. "It's just so freaking complicated, don't even get me started."
"Is Ben good? Can you tell me at least that?" I push.
"Depends," she says, measuring her words. "He's stuffing himself with Mamma's cooking, works out like a maniac, and of course, he's drowning himself in work. He got a better position and better pay. Not that it matters. He made a killing on the stock market last month, too. Got Paul and me a new SUV 'for the kids.' Just showed up with it last week like it was nothing. He's insane."
A small smile breaks on my lips. All of that's sweet and doesn't surprise me—except one part.
The words rush out before I can swallow them. "Wait. Did you say he's stuffing himself with Carmela's cooking? He's here? In New York?"
"Yeah. Thank God," she says and finally cracks a smile. "He moved back. About six months ago. Maybe seven. Kind of shortly after you guys—" She gives me a heavy look, but doesn't finish.
I frown, more questions firing out. "I thought Lisa wanted to stay in San Francisco? Are they here together? Where do they live?"
Mara purses her lips into an apologetic grimace. "I really can't, babe. I'm sorry. He literally made me swear not to tell you a single thing about that situation. You'd have to ask him yourself."
The moment she says that, I lean back, and cross my arms. "No. I won't. I was just curious."
