by Holly Rayner
He’s here. He has flowers. And he wants to apologize to me.
“Okay…” I say slowly. “I’ll let you.”
I don’t know what I’m agreeing to, but I see that it was the right answer. Julian gives a brief smile, and I see genuine relief in his eyes.
“Good,” he says. “Good.” He breathes out like he’s a rock climber who just made it past the first crux in a difficult route.
“Give me five minutes to get dressed?” I ask, and he nods.
“Of course.”
I walk towards the master bedroom, my mind whirring. Julian is wearing a suit, which made sense when I thought he was picking me up for a staged photoshoot. But now that I know that the fake engagement is canceled, his stylish get-up confuses me. Why is he here so early? Where are we going? And, most urgently, in this moment, what should I wear?
I’ve already worn my most formal dress, and it’s not in fresh enough shape to wear for a second time. I’ve been so preoccupied lately that I hadn’t thought about what to wear to our engagement photoshoot in the slightest. As I dig through my suitcase, I realize that I’ve worn almost everything that I’ve packed.
Just as I’m reaching the bottom of the pile of clothes, my fingers touch on a soft, cotton fabric, and I grasp it and pull it towards me. It’s a sundress, in a soft, rosy pink color. I’d completely forgotten about this!
I take the dress into the bathroom and change quickly, combing my hair and swiping on some quick makeup for good measure. I grab a soft, white cashmere wrap and my purse, and return to Julian.
“Ready?” he asks. He’s placed the flowers in a bowl on one of the tables, and he’s waiting by the door.
“I don’t know…” I say cautiously. I’m starting to second-guess this. Maybe I should just ask him to leave, and keep to my plan of self-preservation. “Julian, I don’t know—”
“Wait,” he interjects. “You said that you would give me a chance. Just give me one more shot, Shelby.”
He pulls something from the breast pocket of his suit: a strip of black, satin material. He steps closer to me.
“It’s a blindfold,” he says, holding it up so that I can see. “I’m going to take you somewhere, but I want it to be a surprise. Is it okay if I put this on you?”
He’s serious, his usual joking, playful manner completely absent. Something big must be going on, because Julian almost never acts like this.
I nod.
He steps behind me, so close I can feel his body heat. He circles the black fabric around my head, and then pulls gently on the ends so that it is fitted around my eyes. The whole world turns black.
As the darkness settles in, my other senses are heightened. I smell the tulips. Their sweet scent fills the room. Beyond that, I can smell Julian, just behind me. He smells like cologne, and his own unique smell—the one that I’ve known for so long.
Just as the panic of the darkness and the unknown starts to infiltrate my heart, another part of me breathes in his smell. The darkness makes me feel afraid, but his scent comforts me.
It’s still Julian. I know him. I trust him.
I feel him step around me, his feet moving softly on the thick carpeting. He’s at my side now, and his hand slides into mine. His skin is warm, and his touch is tender, but strong.
He pulls slightly on my hand, urging me forward. I follow him out the hotel room, down the elevator, and then out into the fresh air. He guides me the entire time. My world is dark, and I am in his hands.
I hear the car door open, and he helps me inside. I feel the door close and then hear him enter the driver’s side. The car begins to move, and I can feel the speed of it, more so than when I have my vision. Time is strange inside of darkness. Julian is quiet, and all I can hear is the whirring of tires on pavement and soft music playing through the speakers.
As we drive, I imagine where we might be going. Did he buy something for me? Does he imagine that will make up for the hurt that he caused me? I swear, if he removes this blindfold, and we’re at a car dealership, I’ll—
The car stops.
“We’re here,” Julian says.
I put my hands up to my face, moving to pull down the fabric so that I can see.
“Wait,” he says. I hear him get out of the driver’s side.
I wait. It’s hard, but I place my hands in my lap and resist the urge to tear away the satin scarf.
The car door opens up and I feel Julian’s hand on mine. He helps me up, out of the car, and guides me forward several feet. There’s a slight breeze on my bare legs, and it ruffles the skirt of my dress and the waist of my cashmere wrap. The air carries a scent of freshness with it. It smells like…flowers.
It’s quiet.
Where are we?
“Now,” Julian says. “Shelby, you can take the blindfold off.”
Chapter 18
Shelby
I release the knot at the back of my head, and the blindfold slips from my cheeks.
The world is bright, and the first colors that meet my eyes are the pink hues of the sunrise that’s just starting, and the brilliant green of a vast meadow. The meadow isn’t only green—it’s a sea of color: pink, purple, magenta, violet, orange, and yellow.
Tulips.
Lots of them.
Acres and acres…as far as the eye can see!
In front of this stunning backdrop, I see Julian. He’s standing before me, watching me take it all in.
“Julian!” I can barely speak. The view is breathtaking, and I place my hand on my chest as I gasp.
He smiles slightly, watching my awe.
When I’m able to speak again, I say, “This is beautiful. What is this…?”
He steps towards me, and the look on his face makes me swallow my next words. I don’t need to ask him the meaning behind his decision to take me here. He is about to tell me. He reaches for my hands and grasps both in his.
“Shelby,” he says, staring into my eyes and stroking the backs of my hands with his thumbs.
His touch is warm. It makes a shiver run up my spine. I gaze into his bright, blue eyes, and see him gazing back at me, unguarded.
“When we were in the interview…I said that you were special. I meant it. You were always special to me—I just don’t know if I’ve ever been able to fully express how special.”
Oh, no. I’m afraid we’re going to go down the friendship track again. He’s going to try to soothe my hurt from the night before by telling me how much I mean to him as a friend. I feel my posture stiffen as I brace myself.
He takes a steadying breath. “I have trouble putting it into words…just how much I cared about you as a friend when we were both in school.”
I swallow. Here we go. Can I survive this again? Once more, hearing that Julian treasures my friendship, yet doesn’t love me like that.
I begin to pull my hands away, but he holds them in place.
“I know,” I say quietly. “We were friends. We can still be friends, Julian.”
Let go of me, I think. My pride can’t handle this discussion while we’re standing so close.
“You don’t understand,” he says, a sigh escaping him. “I don’t know if I understand. Shelby, I don’t know where the line between friendship and love lies. I used to think that it was a boundary line, and that I could choose which side to stand on. Now, I don’t think that anymore.”
“What do you think?”
“I think that our friendship grew into something more. It did so a long time ago, and I was too stubborn—or too afraid—to admit it. It was safer to stay away from my feelings. I hid them from you because I was hiding them from myself. I avoided talking about it with you because I was avoiding it inside. I think…I think I loved you, Shelby. You were the first girl that I loved, and when you left Paris, I felt like everything was gone. I felt that loss, but I couldn’t really figure out what it was. It was just a feeling, Shelby. A feeling that I didn’t like.”
He’s still holding my hands. I move my finge
rs to give his hands a squeeze. I’m sorry, I say with my eyes. I am. I remember feeling the loss, too.
We were just kids. I was fifteen, and he was seventeen. But my mother is right; age doesn’t matter when it comes to love. The feelings are just as strong, and they can leave powerful memories.
I’m silent. I know that Julian has more to say. I wait for him to find his next words, and soon, he does.
“When you showed up at Vermaak, it was like I was going back in time. So many old feelings came up. Feelings that I’ve been running from for a long time.”
“Me, too.” My voice is breathy and faint.
“I had no idea that there was so much left between us—so much that we’d never said. Your reappearance in my life is best thing that’s happened to me in years. Last night, when you visited my house, you said that I had my priorities wrong.”
I did. I remember how Julian looked when I said those hurtful words. He looked as though I’d just slapped him in the face.
“I was angry,” I say. “I didn’t mean—”
“No. It’s okay. I needed to hear that, Shelby. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. I’ve built up this whole life…this whole world around me that’s based on keeping me safe. You know, I felt utterly shaken after you left, last night. I just sat out by my pool, staring at the water. Trying to figure it out. Trying to see where things went so wrong. And you know what I figured out?”
“What?”
“It was all those years ago, back when I was discovering what it felt like to love someone. You. Back when I was discovering what it felt like to lose someone. On some level, I decided to close myself off to love.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Shelby.”
“I hate that I’m the one that taught you that lesson.”
“It couldn’t be any other way,” he says. “It had to be you.”
“Why?”
“Because…I cared for you so deeply, and then you left. I thought it would be best if I didn’t care like that for anyone else. So, I didn’t. When I saw you, I remembered what it was like to…to love, Shelby. To laugh. To have a friendship so deep that it becomes something else entirely.”
A breeze sweeps through the space between us, caressing my skin and tousling my hair. A strand settles across my cheek, over one eye. Julian releases my hands long enough to move the hair. He tucks it behind my ear and then returns his hands to mine.
This time, his hold is firmer. More certain. I feel a calmness in his touch which wasn’t there just moments before.
“What I’m trying to say—and I don’t know if I’m succeeding”—he gives me a half-smile—“is that it’s not one or the other, for me, Shelbs. It’s both and. I both care about you as a friend…and…”
I wait, holding my breath. Hanging on his every word.
“And…I love you, Shelby. It took root the very first time we snuck down to the tennis courts to read poetry. Every time I saw you try to read a map upside down, I loved you a little more. I loved you when you were scolding me about skipping out on homework because of lacrosse practice. I loved you when you made me laugh, so hard that I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Emotions swirl inside of me. Could it be true? That all the time that my love was growing stronger and stronger for Julian, his was growing, too?
He’s smiling now, and I can see that he’s remembering how hard we’d laugh together. Those memories are like gold, and for an instant, I feel one bubble up inside of me, delivering a shot of wild joy. I feel my lip tremble.
He grips my hands, soothing me with the touch of his fingers.
“Shelby, I loved you then, and I love you now. And I know that I won’t stop loving you. Every day, I’ll love you a little bit more.”
My heart is swelling; it is bursting at the seams. These are words that I have longed to hear for half my life. I feel as though I might be dreaming. If Julian wasn’t holding my hands, I might pinch myself to see if I wake up.
The sun is rising higher and higher in the sky, shining golden light over the rolling meadow behind Julian. The soft, steady breeze causes the flowers to bend. They look as though they are bowing to us.
Julian is the centerpiece in the magical landscape that stretches before me. His brows crease with intensity. “I had to know what it felt like to lose you, so that I could learn that I never want it to happen again.”
I feel weak at the knees as his words hit me full-force. The tremble in my lip intensifies as I watch Julian begin to bend one knee. He starts to lower himself to the ground, and as he does so, he releases my hands. I see him begin to reach into one pocket.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Julian is now on one knee before me, and my heart is beating wildly. I look down at him as he begins to pull his hand out from his pocket. At the same time, he opens his mouth to speak.
“Shelby Bright,” Julian says from his kneeling position before me. His hand extends outward, emerging from his pocket. Inside his hand is a velvet-covered box. A small one. A box the size of a ring.
And I have a feeling that I know the exact ring that’s going to be inside.
I’m right.
Julian flips the box open and holds it up. Inside, the stunning Meijer Ruby catches the rising sun’s rays and reflects them back to me in an enhanced, rosy dazzle.
My hands fly up to my mouth.
Julian’s voice is deep and sincere. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Shelby? Will you marry me?”
My hands are shaking so much, I can barely control them. I feel the wet, hot weight of a tear forming in my eye. At first, it’s a tear of joy.
Yes! my heart cries out. I’ve always dreamed of marrying Julian, and now here he is, down on one knee before me. Saying that he loves me. Telling me that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me.
He wants me to wear the Meijer Ruby. Time seems to freeze as I look at the ring in Julian’s hands.
The ring.
Only last night, I promised this very ring to Fleur.
If Julian gives me this ring, right here and now, I will have to turn around and give it to Fleur. I’ve betrayed Julian by agreeing to his cousin’s request.
My betrayal is unforgivable. The heaviness of it crushes me, and for an instant, I feel paralyzed. The moment is ruined by the reality of what I have done.
My eyes move from the ring to Julian’s face. As I shift focus and take in Julian’s open, expectant expression, my guilt increases.
I’ve ruined this.
I’ve ruined everything.
How could he ever forgive me?
Tears fill my eyes and stream down my cheeks. They are no longer tears of joy. They are tears of guilt.
I cup my hands over my mouth to hide the frown of horror that is on my lips, but I can’t hide for long. The weight of my guilt finally breaks through my paralysis, and I turn away from Julian. I don’t know where I’m going, but I start to run.
I move as fast as my legs can carry me, as if my movement could bring me back in time—back to last night, when I agreed to betray my best friend. There’s a small hill behind the lot where Julian’s car is parked. A faint trail through the meadow weaves up the hill, and I see a stone wall in the distance.
My feet carry me up the trail. I’m breathing hard. I feel the fine layer of rock and dirt under my feet shift as I dig deep with each stride. I keep moving up the hill, away from Julian—away from the moment that just happened.
I don’t dare look back.
Chapter 19
Julian
Well, this is not how I expected things to go.
I’m still kneeling. The ring is in my hand.
And Shelby is disappearing into the distance.
What have I done? What did I say? What could I have possibly done to upset her this time?
She’s getting farther and farther away. She passes my car, the skirt of her sundress swirling around her thighs as her knees pump
up and down. The girl can run. I snap the ring box closed and stuff it into my pocket.
There’s only one thing to do. I take off running after her.
I chase her up the hill, towards the lookout. I know what’s up there—a parking lot where tourists go to take pictures of the iconic Keukenhof tulip meadow. Shelby disappears just as she reaches the stone wall.
It’s still so early that there are no cars in the lot as I crest the hill. My heart is pumping fast, but all of my recent cardio and strength training serves me well. I’m barely winded, and my mind feels as focused as a laser beam.
Where is Shelby?
I scan the lot, searching left then right. Off in the distance, to my right, I see her. She’s sitting on the stone wall, her back to me. I pick up my pace and jog over to her.
Her back is hunched over and she’s rocking back and forth. I hear her sobbing as I approach.
Tentatively, I sit down on the wall next to her. We’re overlooking the flowery meadow; it stretches out like a sea of color before us. I’ve never been here at sunrise before, though I don’t know why. It is absolutely beautiful. The sun is inching upwards in the sky. It’s almost fully visible over the horizon line.
I don’t know what to say. I just proposed; I thought that Shelby would be happy. I thought—hoped—that she would say that she loves me too.
Yet here she is, crying as though I’ve just broken her heart. I’m too confused to speak, so I just allow myself to look out over the view.
Running after her was pure instinct, but now my instincts seem to be failing me. Maybe that’s okay. It’s not time for me to talk more. It’s time for me to listen. As I sit in silence, Shelby lifts her head up and looks at me. Her cheeks are tear-stained, and her eyes look full of fear.
“Oh, Julian!” she says. “I’m so sorry!”
Sorry? She’s saying no to me, isn’t she?
I feel so afraid, in that moment, that I don’t know how to react. Never, in all of my imaging of how my proposal might play out, did I ever think that Shelby would turn me down. I felt so certain—so sure that this was exactly the right thing to do. I felt it deep within my bones: Shelby and I are meant to get married.