Catherine’s POV
We walked back to the car in silence, the rain still coming down in thin lines. Thankfully it wasn’t heavy enough to completely soak us, though it was enough to chill the skin and make our hair damp.
Julian didn’t let go of my wrist until we reached the passenger door. His hold on me was way too careful like he was making sure I didn’t disappear on him again.
When we got into the car, he shut his door a little too hard, the sound jolting through the small space. My fingers were trembling, so I pressed them against my thighs, pretending it was from the cold.
He turned to me at once.
"Did he touch you?" His voice was low but sharp, cutting right through.
"What?"
"Did Collins make you do anything?"
"No." The answer came out fast and I instantly wondered if he heard the hesitation behind it. "He... tried to but it didn’t work."
He stared at me longer than necessary, his jaw ticking once as if he was trying to control himself from hitting something.
I faced forward, clenching my hands. I didn’t know whether to tell him about the picture Collins had of us kissing. I could still see it in my head, my hands tangled in Julian’s shirt, his mouth on mine, both of us lost. All I could think of was who he would show them to.
My chest tightened and I swallowed hard before finally forcing myself to speak.
"He..." My voice strained. "Collins had a photo of us. A picture of us kissing in school. I don’t know how he got it but—"
"I already made him delete it."
I turned to him quickly. "Uhm... How did you know?"
"Because," he answered, eyes still on the windshield, "while I was breaking his face, he tried to use it to threaten me."
I didn’t respond. I just sat there, staring at my wet knees, my heart feeling a bit relieved.
Julian wasn’t finished though; he never was. "You refused to believe me," he muttered suddenly, his voice held in frustration. "I warned you about Collins being an ass. You didn’t listen."
I slowly raised my head at him, stunned. Was he seriously doing this now? After I barely escaped being assaulted? Did he have zero emotional intelligence? Was he actually blaming me?
I scoffed lightly. "You know what? If you didn’t try to make me look stupid for wanting to make your birthday special, none of this would’ve happened."
That shut him up instantly. His face changed like my words hit a part of him he didn’t want to be touched. His expression softened just a little, like he was replaying something in his head, evaluating it.
Good. He should.
I pulled my legs up onto the seat and hugged them to my chest before turning to look out the window. I didn’t want to face him anymore. I didn’t want him to see the way my hands were shaking now, not from Collins this time, but from everything else. From him.
There was a beat of silence, with the rain spattering lightly on the glass.
"Catherine." My name was soft on his lips.
I didn’t turn immediately, so he tried again, "Catherine, look at me."
I sighed quietly before shifting a little and looking his way.
He had moved his hand to the center console, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for me or keep his distance. His lips parted, then shut. Opened and shut again. He looked conflicted. It was strange seeing him vulnerable, hesitant, and not Julian-like.
"What?" I asked finally, my tone soft but tired.
He took a breath.
"About what happened earlier," His voice was lower now, and calmer. "I’m sorry. My birthday just holds bad memories for me. That’s why I don’t celebrate it. I should’ve told you that. What I did, how I reacted when you surprised me, it wasn’t about you."
He paused, swallowing hard.
"I shouldn’t have thrown the cake. And I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m—I’m sorry."
But the truth was that I wasn’t angry because he threw the cake. Hurt? Yes, but I wasn’t angry because he didn’t like birthdays. I wasn’t even angry that he lashed out.
What I was angry about was that Lucy could touch him when he was upset, because she had access that he denied me. His apology couldn’t fix that.
He said my name again. "Catherine..."
Instead of replying, I held his gaze for a moment, then said, utterly drained, "Please drive. I’m tired."
He stared at me for a long second, but I didn’t react. I turned back to the window, numb.
He put the car in gear and finally began to drive. I felt him glance at me several times, but I pretended not to notice. My chest was still tight and my head hurt.
We drove like that for a while until Julian abruptly pulled the car over.
My heart lurched as the car slowed to a stop on the side of the road. I turned to look at him just as he shifted in his seat, facing me directly.
His eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach knot instantly.
"We are not home. Why are we stopping?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t answer.
He just stared at me the way someone looks at something they’ve been starving for and trying hard not to touch. The kind of stare that felt like a hand sliding down my spine.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling uneasy.
"Julian..." I murmured, trying to understand what was happening. "What are you—?"
I didn’t get to finish before he quickly moved, leaning across the console, with his hand sliding up to the back of my neck, and pulling me toward him with a suddenness that stole the breath right out of my lungs.
And then his mouth crashed against mine, not in a gentle kiss.