Page 144 of The Man Upstairs

He stroked a hand down my arm. “Confidence to have the courage of your convictions. That’s what it is. What we give each other. It’s wonderful to see it in you. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I said, his words bringing a tear to my eye. “I’m proud of you, too. Talking about having courage. You’re just… amazing.”

“Look at us, getting all soppy.” He dropped a kiss on my nose. “Maybe we should unpack.”

“How romantic,” I said. “Let’s not.”

I took his hand and dragged him to the sofa, resting my feet up on the coffee table, and Julian joined me, no more words needed, just the easiness of silence. Of love.

Julian was right. He’d given me the courage of my convictions. I had no sense of fear at the prospect of college tomorrow. I felt invincible in my own skin, and I had Julian to thank for that. He could say I gave thanks far too often, but as far as he was concerned, I could never say it enough.

“Good job we managed to get the ink off your face,” Julian said, smirking. “That would have received quite a few looks from the other residents at breakfast this morning.”

It had been quite a scrub job in the shower. I’d used every tiny scrap of hotel body wash, trying to get my face and neck clear. Luckily, we’d managed it, but we hadn’t had enough left over for the rest of my body, or Julian’s chest.

It felt way cool to know he had the remnants ofMINEacross his chest, under his shirt, blotched in ink. And it made me feel kinda special, still having all his filthy scribble on me, hidden beneath jeans and jumper.

I was his and he was mine, and thank fuck for that. I squeezed his knee as I admired him.

“I’d happily walk around with slut written on my face for you,” I said.

He laughed. “Lovely, thank you. Hopefully not in this apartment block, though. I doubt it would endear me to your mother or her friends.”

I got a horrible pang in my stomach at the thought of Mum downstairs, wishing, WISHING she could just get a glimpse of how much Julian loved me. How he treated me. How he looked at me like I was his world. Because then, surely, it couldn’t be so bad?

Maybe one day.

“Should we hit the shower and get scrubbed clean before bed?” he asked.

The thought of a refreshing shower was nice, but no. I wanted to see theMINEink marks again, knowing they’d already been there all day.

“Let’s not wash it off just yet. I want to see it there, lingering like an old tattoo as you fuck me senseless.”

“You’re incorrigible, Rosie,” he said, and he needed no further encouragement.

It was heaven, lying on his pristine white sheets, the MINE on his chest as fucked me.

Madeloveto me.

I slept like a dream, my college alarm buzzing and rattling on the bedside table as I reached for my glasses. I turned to Julian but he wasn’t there, which wasn’t unusual, but he wasn’t in the kitchen making a coffee, or getting ready for breakfast. He was wrapped in a bathrobe, sitting at the table on his laptop, his fingers typing in a frenzy.

“Hey,” I said, still naked as I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind.

I expected to see another dirty scene unfolding, but he minimised the app before I could see.

“Is that going to be a surprise?” I asked him, and he tapped his nose, turning to face me.

“Wait and see.”

“Is it a particularly dirty one?”

He grinned as he tapped his nose again. “As I said. Wait and see.”

“Well, I’ll be looking forward to it. I’ll be skipping all the way home.”

I was practically skipping as I left, actually. The lightness in the air still continuing, even on a Monday morning. I was immune to all the sneers, and the whispers, just as I had been. But there was a quietness in my mind that had changed. I felt calm. Calm and happy.

The courage of your convictions.