Emily snorts. “Yeah. Sure seems to.”
Claire turns to me. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
“That’s acceptable,” she replies. “Julian wants you both taken care of. Let me know what you need.”
“I don’t need...”
“Lucy hasn’t eaten,” Emily cuts in. “And she’d probably cry if someone handed her a latte.”
Claire nods. “I’ll take care of that.”
Emily beams. “I love her.”
Claire continues talking with Emily, but I feel overwhelmed, so I tune it out and retreat to the bathroom.
It’s absurdly beautiful.
I open the bags. Inside are sweater-and-pant sets that look like sleepwear designed by someone who understands exhaustion. Slippers lined with something that feels like clouds. Toiletries. Makeup remover.
Everything screams care.
I wash my face.
Let my hair fall free.
Change into the soft clothes.
I don’t recognize the woman in the mirror.
She looks tired.
When I step back into the room, Julian is standing near the window.
He turns and freezes.
His gaze moves over me slowly, like he’s seeing something he didn’t expect.
Something unguarded.
I feel suddenly exposed.
“I’m not... I just...” I start.
His long legs eat the space between us. He steps closer. Too close. I am instantly enveloped in his scent. His hand cups my jaw.
Not possession.
Not control.
Just… grounding.
He opens his mouth to say something... and then Dr. Teller walks in.
“I have some preliminary results,” he says.
Julian steps back immediately.
