Chapter Five

I officially have the hangover from hell.

The glare of the sun filtering through the window does nothing to ease my pain. Grabbing the pillow beside me, I throw it at the window, hoping for a miracle in which the drapes will shut by themselves. My head is throbbing, the foul taste of beer in my mouth urging me to run to the bathroom as fast as I can.

After emptying the contents of my stomach for what feels like an eternity, I hop into the shower to wash away the regret over what I said to Julian. It was uncalled for. I was a downright bitch all because I thought I am not good enough. If my husband didn’t think I was worth staying alive for, then why would anyone else want me?

Stop with this self-pity crap.

An hour later, I’m standing in the hallway staring at his door, planning out my apology—word for word what I am going to say. Raising my hand against the door, I knock gently. Nothing. My mind immediately thinks the worst, and my knocks become frantic until the door opens.

Julian rubs his eyes. His beautiful disheveled hair a result of me waking him up. My tongue is unable to connect to my brain as I find myself gawking at his chest. Standing in only his boxers, how can I not look. I mean hot damn, he’s cut to perfection.

My eyes trace the lines of his abs.

One… two… three… four… five… six, I count to myself.

“Adriana, it’s early,” he mumbles, sleepily.

Lost in my abs daze, I quickly speak, “I… uh… I came to say sorry, Julian.”

He motions for me to come inside the dark room. Walking over to the windows, he opens the drapes, then grabs a T-shirt hanging off the chair. I take a seat on the edge of the bed as he sits on the small tub chair by the window.

“What happened last night?” His voice is somber.

“I drank too much.”

“Yes, you did. But what got you so upset that you had to run away from me?”

I nervously play with the ring on my middle finger, my eyes glancing to where my wedding ring used to sit. There was a time when anger consumed me overshadowing my grief and yearning to bring my husband back. The band reminds me of a life promised, and so, in the midst of my raging emotions, I removed the ring and stored it inside a small trinket box Elijah gave me in high school. I half-expected to feel a loss when I removed it, but it never came. What came was more pain, more anger, and resentment toward a man who isn’t here to even defend himself.

“Our wedding song, it played. Your publicist… I don’t know, there was just too much going on.”

“My publicist?”

“She was all over you.”

He remains silent, something he does often because he actually thinks about his words unlike myself.

“It’s understandable that a song would upset you. Studies show that—”

I interrupt him in frustration. “Screw fucking studies. It hurt, okay! I hate that one minute there’s this ray of hope, and then, bam.” I raise my hands, the anger swelling inside of me. “Some stupid thing will trigger all the pain. I’m so over feeling this way. Sometimes I just want to forget he ever existed.”

Silence.

“And stop being quiet. Just say it… say whatever it is you want to say.”

“It’s before eight in the morning. I’m tired and mentally drained. You’re hungover and clearly tired as well. Nothing I say or do right now will please you, so if you don’t mind, I really just want to sleep a bit more.”

He takes his shirt back off and closes the drapes. Walking over to the bed, he pulls the covers off and climbs in, resting his head on the pillow, rubbing his face with his hands.

Great, what am I supposed to do now? The room is silent and dark, the jetlag settling in, not to mention I stayed up reading his book. I just couldn’t put it down.

I’m not sure why I climb into the bed beside him and nestle my head into the crook of his neck. Something draws me to him, an unexplainable magnetic force. Gently, he places his arm around me, pulling me in. There’s nothing sexual about this encounter, and for the first time in a very long time, I fall into a blissful sleep surrounded by the warmth of a man.

***

“Are you sure this is just beef?” I use the fork and knife to cut the meat on my plate.

We wake up a little past noon, and Julian decides we both need some fresh air, plus he really wants to show me around Sydney. We end up at a restaurant overlooking the Sydney Harbour Bridge and Opera House called the Toaster. Apparently, it’s supposed to look like a toaster, but for the life of me, I don’t see it.

“How do you like the view?” Julian asks.

“It’s beautiful. I mean, what you see in movies doesn’t do it justice.” I grab a mouthful of salad. “The weather is perfect, and the people are so relaxed and friendly. I really could see myself living here.”

“It’s beautiful. There’s something calming about this place,” he adds.

“Like the Aussie gals?” I say in my best Aussie accent.

“Your accent is terrible. Now tell me, what’s this nonsense you’re going on about my publicist?”

“She wants in your pants.”

“She wants in my pants?” he repeats.

“Oh, puh-lease! Like you can’t see that. Oh, Julian…” I mimic, “… let me touch your arm again and flash my boobs in your face.”

His laugh startles me.

I cross my arms, not seeing the funny side of this conversation.

“Aww, is someone jealous?”

I know I’m pouting, and his cheesy smirk isn’t helping me keep a straight face.

“Adriana, I don’t want Giselle—”

“Great, Giselle. She even has a supermodel name.”

He places his hand on mine. “Why can’t you see the only person I want is sitting right in front of me?”

“Because the person in front of you is completely fucked up and doesn’t feel worthy of anyone, especially you.”

“Why me? I’m no saint,” he admits.

“No, you aren’t, but you have what everyone woman wants. And I want it…” I say the words I can no longer hold back.

I wait for his reaction.

His eyes are watching me, and they look alive. In this one look, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, heat travels down to the most sensitive areas of my body and is igniting a flame that’s seriously burning out of control. With his forefinger, he traces my lips, making them quiver. As he leans in, his aftershave lingers, and I’m seriously ready to burst. His lips gently graze mine, and teasingly, he sucks my bottom lip. I trace my tongue along his without causing a huge scene. He pulls away, grinning from ear to ear, taking a sip of his wine.

“Wow,” I mutter under my breath. “Is it just me or is it hot out here?” I fan my face, trying to cover the smile.

“Hot, yes. Very hot,” he murmurs, seductively tasting his lips again. My eyes are drawn to the way his tongue slivers across his lips, wondering what else he could do with them.

“Okay, don’t, ‘cause that’s unfair. Do you really want me to pull a Meg Ryan in here?”

“Let’s see. Adriana orgasming in a restaurant? Hmm… I think I’d like that show in private.”

Oh man, what a hot thing to say.

“More water, please,” I call to the waiter.

“Still hot?” he teases.

Bowing my head, I suddenly feel shy. “Very.”

We finish our meals and spend the rest of the day walking along the Quay. We settle on a spot, standing amongst the crowd as we watch all the performances. Crowds circle the buskers as they perform amusing tricks. One man is dressed and painted from head to toe in silver. He doesn’t move an inch, kids laughing and trying to make him flinch to no avail. When someone throws coins into his hat, he will suddenly acknowledge their gesture, stirring the kids again.

As dusk sets in, the lights illuminate the city. Julian firmly holds onto my hand as we walk along the streets. It feels right, and it surprises me that it doesn’t make me anxious at all.

“So, I was thinking, how about we take it easy tonight? Room service and a movie?” I ask casually.

Okay, so I can see how easily that can be interpreted as sex, but really, I’m tired. I see the cogs turning in his head and the general saluting me, ready to battle.

“Sounds like a good plan,” he responds, without any further suggestions or sexual innuendo.

“But… but… I’m just really tired and want to hang out with you. I’m guessing it sounds like I want sex, but it’s so not like that,” I ramble on.

“Adriana.” He laughs. “Relax. I’m exhausted, too.”

Later, we sit on the bed surrounded by several dishes after being indecisive about what to order. I’m a huge eater despite my small frame. In fact, I entered several eating contests when I was a kid, even going up against my brother.

“How can you eat so much? You’re tiny,” he says, intently watching me devour the crème brûlée.

“It’s the one thing which has baffled mankind. Trust me, I wish I could put on weight.”

“First time I’ve ever heard a woman say that.”

“Yeah, well, believe me, I’m so sick of hearing, ‘you’re so thin… blah blah blah.’ Even when I was pregnant with Andy, I barely put on the baby weight. Except my boobs. God, I’d be so pregnant again just to have boobs like that.”

Julian grins and shakes his head in amusement. “Okay, so how about no boob talk while you’re in bed with me, technically.”

“Why?” I tease. “Can’t handle it?”

I see him squirm, and I’m enjoying every second of his discomfort.

“You’re mean. I’d like to think I have some self-control.”

“You sound too cocky… excuse the pun.”

I move the tray which sits between us, and in a bold move, I climb on top, so I’m straddling him. There’s something exhilarating about taking control, succumbing to this uncharted sexual desire I feel toward him. The fire in his eyes is undeniable, and I can see him struggle to compose himself. I don’t move, but his hardness is pressed firmly against me, certain that with one grind, he’ll be undone, and I probably won’t be far behind.

And that thought alone excites me.

He places his hands on my knees and slowly slides them up my thighs, pushing my skirt up and exposing my skin. “Adriana… you’re pushing my limits.”

“Maybe I want to push them.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

His hand moves up to the back of my neck, pulling me down as our lips lock, and our tongues entwine. There’s desperation as we struggle for air, not wanting to break the intensity fueling us. I cup his face, nestling his cheekbones in the palm of my hands. I want him, all of him, right here, right now.

I want him to be mine.

“Julian,” I murmur. “I don’t know if I can stop.”

“Then don’t.”

His short answer only drives the passion further as I start to grind against him, letting him moan in my mouth. Knowing that I’m the one causing his body to cave at this moment, I feel myself crumble all around him.

This is it. This is the big moment I’ve been dreading yet yearning for at the same time. We remain fully dressed, dry-humping like a couple of teenagers, not stopping the rhythm of our bodies. The moisture between my legs is seeping out of my panties, making me wild and unpredictable. His hands have moved around to my buttocks, sneaking underneath my garment resting against my heated skin. With a gentle squeeze, I’m ready to convulse. I nudge his palms to move further back and caress the weak spot of mine so desperately needing attention.

As my hand slides down his torso, ready to embrace his manhood, the ring of my cell startles me. Reluctantly, I pull away, unwillingly biting my lip as I watch him watch me.

Worst timing ever.

Short of breath, I lean over and see my home number appear on the screen. “Sorry, it’s my son. Do you mind if I place him on speaker?”

“Adriana, it’s fine, just answer it.” Julian stands and moves toward the balcony. Opening the door, he sits outside leaving me alone. I’m guessing the fresh air is beneficial for him.

“Mama!” I hear Andy’s voice. God, how much I miss him.

“Pooh-bear!” I want to hold him, smell his hair, and smother my face into his neck.

“Mama, Amelia got an ouchie today. She jumped off da swings, Mama.”

“You mean she fell, Andy,” I gently correct him.

“No, Mama, she wanted to be Batman and fly. She was wearing her cape.”

Good Lord, Charlie must have had a heart attack. Andy continues to talk about his friends, what he ate for dinner, how Ash dug up the backyard. I could’ve talked for hours forgetting Julian was just outside.

“Andy, can Mama talk to Grammy now?”

“Grammy went to the shops. Uncle Lex is here.”

“Hey, sis, how is it Down Under?”

I see Julian shift uncomfortably outside, and I know that I can’t take Lex off speaker as he’ll ask why I did that. My brother is like an annoying detective, always thinking the worst. I have to make the call short. “All good. I miss Andy. Hope he is behaving. I’ll be back on Friday.”

“He misses you, too. So, he told you about Amelia? I swear, she doesn’t have an ounce of fear.”

I laugh. “I’m sorry, Lex. Is Charlie okay?”

“Apart from having a stroke, she’s okay. I was all the way across town when it happened, and you know LA traffic. Nothing was broken.”

“Give her a big hug and kiss for me.” I pause, trying to think of a way to quickly end the call.

“Is everything okay? You sound a bit off.”

“Just tired. You know, the time zones.”

“How was the shop front you looked at? I’ve got a contact in Sydney if you need more assistance.”

“Actually, I’m heading there tomorrow, but thanks anyway. Listen, I’ve gotta go. Gonna try to fit in as much as I can while I’m here.”

“Oh, hang on, Adriana… Charlotte wants to say hello.”

This is awkward, but Julian doesn’t seem bothered as he continues to sit outside, now watching me. It bothers me that he isn’t bothered.

“Hey, Thunder from Down Under! How is it?”

“Hey, Char, yeah, all good. Such a beautiful country.”

“And the men?” I hear Lex mumble in the background. “Ignore him. So, is the country swarming with Hugh Jackmans?”

“Uh yeah… some very good-looking men around.”

“Oh… oh! Are you with one right now, and that’s why you have your awkward tone on?” she squeals.

I look uncomfortably at Julian, who appears amused with the turn of conversation.

“I gotta go. Kiss my son for me, okay?”

She whispers into the speaker, “You better tell me what’s going on when Lex is gone. You’re hiding something.”

I say my goodbyes and hang up letting out a huge sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, that took longer than expected.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for wanting to speak to your son.”

“Yeah, I know, but you know with Lex and Charlie…”

“Look, it’s been a long day for both of us. I’m going to call it a night.”

He stands, but before leaving, he bends down and plants a kiss on my lips. I want him to stay, but I don’t want our night to end on a bad note like last night. He makes it quick, and is out of the room in a flash, leaving me alone again.

I move toward the nightstand and pick up his book. Continuing to read, I lose myself in his words, clutching onto his hopes and dreams, his fears and nightmares as if they are my own. With every page I turn, I find myself more astounded by his talent. He’s going to be an international bestseller, no doubt about it.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I take in his final words, shutting the book as I let it all sink in. What the hell am I doing? I feel intimated by his intelligence and the life he’s lived so far. I haven’t done half the things he’s done, traveling across the world, helping those suffering. What have I done? I create fashion and live in a material world. He gives his shoes to poor villagers and walks a mile just to fetch a bucket of water for the sick.

It all feels so insignificant, I feel insignificant. My goals and my dreams pale into nothingness compared to his.

I lay in bed wide awake, unable to shut off my brain. I grab my cell to text him. It seems to be the only way to relay my thoughts without word-vomiting.

Me:I finished reading. I am speechless, yes me. I can’t believe how talented you are.

Minutes go by with no response. When the screen lights up the room, I rush to read the text.

Julian:Thank you. And the inscription?

I think about his question. I want to pour my heart out to him and tell him how terrified I am of losing him, how my heart is confused and how much I want to admit I feel the same way, but the guilt consumes me whole and leaves me voiceless. Instead, my insecurities get the better of me.

Adriana: Why did your mood change after that phone call?

I wait and wait, with no response. I fall asleep to wake with the sun rising and the beep of my cell.

Julian:It’s your last day here, Adriana. Let’s just enjoy the day.

I’m hurt by his comment. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. I hate the fact I automatically jump to conclusions.

The same broken record playing over and over inside my head.

I’m not worthy.

And maybe because he is still in love with Charlie.