Page 39 of Julian

"Remember what we discussed," the therapist said quietly. "This isn't about punishment. It's about healing."

Julian nodded, though his throat felt like sandpaper. The knock came soft but firm, and Dr. Carlisle rose to answer it.

"Mr. Burke, thank you for coming," the therapist said, stepping aside to allow Duncan entry.

Duncan stepped into the room, and Julian's chest tightened as their eyes met. Duncan looked older somehow, lines of worry etched deeper around his eyes than Julian remembered. The expensive suit couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders or the way his jaw was set in that familiar hard line.

"Julian." Duncan's voice carried its usual authority, but there was something else there. Concern, or maybe even fear.

"Dad." The word came out rougher than Julian had intended. It was a term he rarely used. He gestured to the chair Dr. Carlisle had positioned across from his own. "Thanks for coming."

Duncan settled into the chair, his movements careful and controlled. Julian could smell his father's cologne, the same scent he'd worn for as long as Julian could remember. It brought back a flood of memories—being small enough to sit on Duncan's lap, before everything became complicated.

"Dr. Carlisle said you needed to discuss something important," Duncan said, his gaze moving between Julian and the therapist. "He was rather insistent that I come immediately."

Julian's hands clenched into fists on the arms of his chair. The words he'd rehearsed with Dr. Carlisle over the past two days seemed to evaporate from his mind. His father sat less than six feet away, waiting for an explanation that would shatter everything between them.

"There's something I need to tell you," Julian began, his voice barely audible. "Something I should have told you twenty-four years ago."

Duncan's posture shifted slightly, becoming more tense as his steely gaze sharpened.

"It's about the time when Angela and Annie were kidnapped," Julian continued, forcing himself to meet his father's gaze. "I knew it was going to happen."

The silence in the room became suffocating. His dad’s expression hardened.

“What do you mean?” Each word was enunciated in a cold, hard voice.

Julian knew that tone. It was one he’d heard Duncan use in the past. However, it had always been used in business settings.

For all their issues, Duncan had never turned that cold, hard voice on him. The fact that he did then wasn’t surprising. Whatwassurprising was how much it hurt.

“What do you mean, Julian?”

Taking a deep breath, Julian pulled his shoulders back and looked his father in the eye. “The day before the girls disappeared, I heard Sandra and Jim talking about how they were going to take them.”

“Youheardthem?” Duncan demanded. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Julian wished he could say that they’d threatened him. That would have been better than the truth.

“Sandra promised me candy and a toy if I didn’t say anything,” Julian said, hating the tremor in his voice. “So I didn’t.”

“You had plenty of toys and candy.” Anger flared in Duncan’s eyes. “You sold your sisters out for candy and a toy.”

The words pierced Julian deep in his heart. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’resorry?”

Julian flinched as if he'd been struck. His father's words echoed in his mind—you sold your sisters out—and the truth of them made bile rise in his throat.

He'd known this was coming, had prepared for it during endless sleepless nights, but hearing the accusation spoken aloud by Duncan felt like a physical blow.

"Please," Dr. Carlisle interjected, his voice calm but firm. "Let Julian finish."

Duncan's jaw worked, muscles tensing beneath his skin. His gaze never wavered from Julian's face.

The cold fury there made Julian want to shrink into his chair and disappear. He'd seen his father angry before, but never like this. Never directed at him with such intensity.

Julian could see the effort it took his father to remain seated. He could practically feel the rage radiating across the small space between them.