Page 110 of Hard Rock Muse

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Seth’s words stuck with me, even after he was long gone from the coffee shop. I sat at our table until the cafe closed and I was kicked out by the annoyed baristas.

You have to listen to what he doesn’t say.

That was what Seth had told me.

As I huddled around my coffee cup, hunched over the table, I couldn’t help but recall the dozens of small things Julian had done for me over the past few months, ever since we’d run into each other again. Remembering my favorite drink, serving me pesto even though it wasn’t his favorite, all those sweet touches and soft looks.

Once my mind had brought those memories forth, it didn’t stop there. Hundreds of little instances from our entire relationship bubbled up to the surface.

“Excuse me, miss?” the annoyed cafe employee said. “We closed ten minutes ago.”

I gathered my bag and mumbled a hasty apology before shuffling out the door.

It was dark outside, as dark as it had been up on that rooftop. I looked up at the sky. Light pollution blocked my view of the stars again. But I could make out the moon, shining bright through the hazy clouds. It shone down on me, a steady presence, lighting up its portion of the heavens even brighter than the most aggressive of neon signs.

I remembered how it had felt when Julian first walked into that meeting room. I’d thought that it was like a halo of sunshine streaming down onto his head, capturing my attention.

But that wasn’t quite right. Julian wasn’t like the sun. He didn’t blaze with glory or burn with vigor.

No, Julian’s demeanor was more subtle than that. He never wanted the spotlight for himself. He never cared about drawing attention to himself. But he was always there, acting as a steady companion. Always supportive, always caring.

Always loving.

I stared down at my feet and clutched my bag in both hands.

I had to make things right.

It didn’t take me long to get to Julian’s place. I remembered it being one of those fancier buildings downtown. I soon found myself in front of his apartment door.

I lifted my hand to knock. Lowered it, hesitating. Lifted it again. Lowered it.

I chewed on my lip. Was he even going to want to see me after the way I’d yelled at him?

My phone went off without warning, a blaring sound. Abby was calling, no doubt wanting to check in. We hadn’t run into each other in days.

I hurried to silence the phone, but it was too late. A scuffling sound made its way through the apartment door. I heard the lock click and before I could decide whether to run or stay, Julian opened the door.

His hair was a disheveled mess, falling over his cheeks in limp strands. The only color in his pale face was the purple bruises under his eyes. His dark gaze, blank and hollow, turned shocked and anxious, eyes widening, before shuttering closed again, as guarded as I’d ever seen him.

We stared at each other.

“Can I come in?” I asked nervously.

Julian turned back into the apartment, leaving the door wide open. I took that as an invitation and stepped through, closing it behind me.

Guilt gnawed at my stomach. I’d been so focused on my own hurt feelings that I hadn’t considered how Julian must have been doing. If he really hadn’t cared about me, he might only have been upset at having been called out on his bullshit. But if he really did love me, then having me fling all those things I’d said in his face must have been heart-wrenching.

I knew I needed to make things better. I just wasn’t sure how to start.

Julian walked out of the kitchen with a bottle of water. He held it out to me. I took it from him with a murmur of thanks.

“What do you want?” he said flatly.

I cringed at his tone.

“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of my mouth.