He takes a step closer. Every instinct tells me to run, to hide, to flee from the intensity of him, but I stay rooted. He’s so much different from how I remember him.
“I don’t know what youthinkyou can do,” he mutters, voice low, almost a growl. “You don’t understand what—”
“I know,” I interrupt, stepping forward just a fraction. “You can help me understand, though. Or not. I just...I just remembered that you got a lot out of painting before. When Nicholas…”
He swallows, jaw tight, eyes flicking to the floor for a split second, then back to mine. The hurt in his gaze cuts me open. And yet...there’s something else. Something fragile and...human. Something that’s stillhim.
I take another breath. “I’m not letting you leave until youtry,”I whisper, voice shaking but firm. “This is what I do. I can help.I understand we haven’t spoken in years, but I don’t feel weird about that.”
He blinks at me. And I know:this is it.The moment everything shifts, or shatters. He takes another step toward me, and the air between us tightens. I glance up as he towers over me. I’m five-three, and he’s six-five and all lean muscle. His presence is like a shadow filling the room, and my chest hammers against my ribs.
Heather interjects gently, a lifeline tossed into the storm. “It’s nice to see you, Jude.”
His gaze snaps to her, sharp and full of venom. I flinch at the animosity in it. Heather doesn’t back down; she inclines her chin, smirking just enough to hold her ground. Micah shifts beside her, uneasy and quiet. It’s an awkward standoff. Jude’s the one who decides what happens next. His dead eyes flicker between us, restless and haunted.
Finally, he speaks. “Clever of you to go to my parents to find my location.”
I exhale slowly, letting the tension slip from my shoulders. “It was the best way to get through to you.” I swallow hard. “The people you were with last weekend...they’re horrible.”
He drags a hand through his hair. “You have no fucking idea.”
Heather, sensing the air might shatter us all, tilts her head and offers gently, “Why don’t you come take a seat?”
Micah follows her without resistance, mumbling something I can’t quite catch. Heather laughs softly, easing the pressure. Judedoesn’t move. Not an inch. His jaw is tight, his eyes conflicted, crowded with things he doesn’t know how to say.
It’s the same tortured expression I see in my clients every day.
This is dangerous territory. I know better than this. I know what happens when compassion slips into proximity. I’ve lost clients to their demons before, so I know to keep my distance. But with him? I don’t think I’ll be able to..
I meet his stare.Don’t be a coward, Jude.
I don’t give him time to spiral. I motion toward the seating area. “Come.”
He hesitates, then moves, reluctantly, settling near Heather and Micah. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, tattoos crawling up his forearms. Heather reclines against the back cushion, calm and observant. She’s a grounding presence I didn’t realize I needed until now.
I take the chair across from them, folding my hands neatly in my lap. “Thank you for coming.”
Jude lets out a low, humorless laugh. “You tracked me down, Emma. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
Hearing my name on his tongue hurts more than it should. He’s being an asshole. But it’s a response I’ve seen countless times before.
“I’m not doing this as some weird ex of yours,” I say quietly. “It’s been seven years, Jude. I just know you’re going through some stuff.” I hesitate—just a breath. I know I shouldn’t say this next part. I know it crosses a line I’ve sworn never to cross. But with him, I’ve never known how to stay on therightside of anything.
“I’ve never stopped caring about you, Jude.Regardlessof what happened between us. And I want to use my professional talents to help you.”
His head snaps up. For a split second, something raw flickers behind his dead hazel eyes. “Help me?” His voice slices like broken glass. “You think a few paints are gonna fix the kind of hell I’ve been through? The hell you haven’t even seen?”
“I don’t think anythingfixesit,” I say, steady. Honest. “But it might help you survive it.” I lean forward slightly. “It gives you somewhere to put it without letting it eat you alive.”
“I say why the hell not?” Micah glances up, his blue eyes steady but tired. “It’s better than nothing,” he mutters under his breath.
Jude shoots him a glare, but it doesn’t stick. It just falls away like everything else about him that’s been worn down. I know he wouldn’t come here if he wasn’t at all curious or still had some kind of feelings for me. I mean, it’s been so long since we even talked. He’s here for a reason.
Heather crosses her arms, voice calm but firm. “No one’s asking you to talk. Just...try something different.”
Jude exhales hard through his nose, raking a hand through his hair. “Fine. Whatever.”
I rise, moving to a small setup near the window, and set down two blank canvases and charcoal sets. “Alright. Let’s start simple. I want you both to create something whileonesong plays. Just one. Don’t overthink it, don’t talk about it. Just let whatever’s in your chest come out. Humor me.”
