Page 153 of Meet Me In The Dark

Silly Celeste.

Without another word, I turned and left his office, holding onto every shred of dignity I had left.

Only when I was safe behind my apartment door did I allow myself to collapse and let the tears fall freely, my heart shattered by Julian’s brutal silence.

“We’re ahead of schedule,” Darren says, pulling me back to the present. “The foundation work is solid, and the framing is coming along.”

A sudden prickle of awareness races down my spine, making me falter mid-step. Darren’s voice trails off when I go rigid. I don’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind me. My body has become attuned to him.

Heart ready to explode out of my chest, I turnaround, and at the sight of Julian, my knees go a little weak.

Stupid, stupid, heart.

Our eyes meet, and for a split second, I see a flash of guilt so raw it almost knocks me backward.

Then he blinks, and the mask falls into place.

A perfect, indifferent lie.

He nods curtly at Darren. “Continue.”

My teeth clench as anger simmers under my skin.

Fuck him.

Fuck his disappearing act.

Fuck his perfect, emotionless façade.

I force my voice to remain steady as I take over explaining the structural plans and the timeline, all while Julian listens silently, eyes fixed anywhere but on me.

It’s maddening.

We fucked like animals, and now he stands here pretending nothing happened, as if I’m a stranger he barely remembers.

“We’re making adjustments to the east wing,” I say, tightly.

Julian glances down at the blueprint, then shakes his head. “These adjustments aren’t necessary. They’ll delay the timeline.”

“They’re absolutely necessary,” I counter. “If you want this building to pass inspection and last.”

“I disagree.”

“You disagree?” I repeat, incredulous. “Since when?”

“Since right now. Revert to the original plan.”

I can’t breathe or think straight past the pulse hammering in my temples.

“You’re deliberately pushing me,” I bite out, fistsclenched at my sides. “This isn’t about the plans. This is about you proving a point.”

“I’m making a professional judgment. Nothing more.”

“Bullshit. This has nothing to do with professionalism and everything to do with you needing to feel in control.”

Darren clears his throat. “I’ll, uh… give you two a minute.” He turns and practically flees the tension radiating from us.

Julian’s gaze darkens when I look back at him. “Keep your voice down.”