Page 25 of Julian

Dear Kiara,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to reach out and let you know how things are going here. The therapist suggested that I "open lines of communication" with people who are important in my life. Right now, I’d have to say that you are the most important.

Kiara wanted to hold those words close to her heart, but she let them slip by. She knew that the only reason she was the most important person to Julian was because she was pregnant with his child. And considering the relationships he had with other members of his family, being the most important didn’t exactly elevate her all that much.

The first week here was terrible. I didn't think it would be that bad—I've had hangovers before, obviously—but this was different. The shaking started the day after I arrived. My hands first, then my whole body. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. The doctors kept checking on me, monitoring my vitals. They said withdrawal can be dangerous, even fatal.

Kiara's breath caught as she read those words. He'd been through withdrawal? The casual way he'd mentioned it could be fatal made her stomach clench. She pressed one hand to her chest, feeling her heart rate quicken.

She continued reading, her eyes scanning the handwriting that was becoming easier to decipher.

I really didn’t think I was that reliant on alcohol. Or that my body had become so dependent on it. In my mind, it was just to help me mentally. Clearly, I was wrong… but don’t tell Duncan that.

This second week has been better physically, but worse mentally. They have us in group therapy sessions where we're supposed to "share our stories" and "identify our triggers." I sit there listening to people talk about losing their families or their careers because of drinking, and I feel like a fraud.

My problem isn't that severe. I still have my job waiting for me. I have money. I have a roof over my head. Even though everyone here is from a wealthy background, many have suffered more than I have. Many have had people cut them out of their lives completely because of their drug or alcohol use. I, at least, still have all of you.

Kiara was glad that he understood that. His support system was strong, and despite the lack of closeness with his parents and siblings, they did care about him.

I’m not sure why I’m writing this all down. I guess I just need to get it out. Sorry for choosing you as my confidante.

How are you doing? How is the baby doing? Do you know yet if it’s a boy or a girl?

If you want to vent about anything to me, you’re welcome to write back and lay it on me. It would be a nice distraction from life here.

I’m still not sure how long I’m going to be here. Hopefully not too much longer.

Guess I’d better end this so I can get it into the mail. Take care of yourself and the little one.

He just signed it,Julian, without anyloveor evensincerely, but that didn’t really matter. He’d written to her. Of all the people he could have chosen to confide in, he’d picked her. And while she wasn’t going to place any importance on that, she was grateful that he wasn’t shutting her out.

Shifting, Kiara stared out the window, but her mind wasn’t on the scenery. She mulled over everything Julian had shared with her.

Her romantic side really wanted to grab hold of the fact he’d written to her. It wanted her to believe that she was important to him beyond being the carrier of his child.

Realistically, however, she knew it was because she was the safe one. The convenient one. She knew nothing about what other relationships Julian might have in his life. He could have a best friend he’d never introduced her to. Maybe a circle of close friends that he hadn’t told her about. And he probably hadn’t told them about her either.

Why would he share about a temporary marriage?

Looking down at the letter, Kiara spread her hand out over the words. Regardless of the reasoning behind Julian choosing her, it was a moment she wouldn’t take for granted.

As she sat there, Kiara remembered Duncan’s request for an update on his son. She wouldn’t divulge the details of what Julian had told her, but she could offer some reassurance to Duncan.

Kiara carefully folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. She would write to Julian later, but first she needed to let Duncan know that his son was okay.

Not that she'd share the details about withdrawal symptoms or Julian's reluctant acceptance that he had a problem. Those confessions belonged to Julian alone.

She pushed herself up from the loveseat, fatigue making her movements slower than usual. The walk had taken more out of her than she'd expected. Still, she made her way downstairs to Duncan's office, pausing outside the heavy wooden door to collect her thoughts before knocking.

"Come in," Duncan called.

Kiara stepped inside, the familiar scent of leather-bound books and Duncan's subtle cologne greeting her. He looked up from his computer, his expression softening slightly when he saw her.

"Did you read the letter?" he asked, gesturing for her to take a seat in one of the leather chairs across from his desk.

"Yes," Kiara said, settling into the chair. She rested her hands on her lap, the envelope containing Julian's letter safely upstairs in her room. "He seems to be doing okay. The physical adjustment at the start was a bit of a challenge for him, but he’s doing better now."

Duncan studied her face for a moment, and Kiara wondered if he could tell she was holding back details. "That's good to hear. Has he mentioned how much longer he expects to be there?"