by Len Webster
No one but him.
Julian Moors, my only exception.
His blue eyes flashed at her reference to their time together. Then he took her hand and squeezed it lightly before he uttered, “Oui.”
One word: Yes.
The number of lies and secrets: infinite.
The way Stephanie’s hand fit in his was utter perfection. No one fit him as she had, as how she always had. In their years apart, no one had ever come close. And no one ever would. Just Stephanie. Julian’s eyes had swept through the reception before they landed on the groom, Noel, raising an eyebrow. Julian shook his head and shifted his gaze back to see Stephanie chewing her lip.
Letting out a sigh, he brought her close to his body, resting his left hand on the small of her back. He liked her body near—more like he fucking loved it. He knew why she kept scanning the room and why the flashes of worry in her eyes didn’t sit well with him.
“He’s not here,” Julian stated.
Stephanie released her lip, and her eyes snapped up to his. Those hurtful blue eyes had once brought him joy but also destruction. Julian just hoped maybe she could be his salvation or maybe he could be it for her.
“Who?” Stephanie asked as her hand settled on his shoulder.
Her touch ignited his heart, slowing it down until it beat with an uncomfortable burning sensation. A feeling he had been without for four years. And a feeling he had missed and craved for.
“Rob. He’s taking our father home,” Julian replied as he led her into a slow dance. Julian didn’t take his eyes off her as she kept hers averted. “You know, Stephanie, it wouldn’t be so bad if you looked at me during this dance. After all, you did ask me to dance with you. Not a lovely vault memory if I can’t even memorise your face at this exact moment. You asked and I answered.” Julian tightened his hold of her to ensure their bodies didn’t break contact.
Stephanie slowly turned her head until she faced him. That wariness in her eyes was one he didn’t enjoy.
“You replied in French. I asked you in English not French, Julian.”
He chuckled, and before she could question him, Julian had dipped her. Bringing her back up, he leant in close to her ear and whispered, “French is what we have together, mon cœur.”
My heart.
She had tensed before she pushed off him, dividing them. “I am not your heart, okay. I’m not. We had a week together. That’s it! If you have any respect for yourself, Julian, then you’ll stay away from me,” Stephanie warned, and her hands balled into fists beside her.
“Stephanie, you asked me for a dance together,” he reminded as he closed the distance between them.
She took another step back, shaking her head.
“No,” she said firmly, and Julian steeled at that one word.
“No?”
“I’m drunk, Julian. I don’t know what this dance means.” There was no slur to her words, and no glassiness in her eyes. He knew she was bullshitting, but he wasn’t going to push her.
Instead, Julian placed his hands in his pockets. It was an attempt not to force her to stay. “You sure do know how to break a man’s heart, Stephanie.”
Stephanie winced before him. This time her eyes glazed over. She had looked at the guests around them before she uttered, “C’est pour le mieux, Julian.”
“What does that—” Julian stopped just as she took a step towards the bride. “Don’t do this, Stephanie,” he begged.
“Tu es pur. Je ne suis pas,” she said softly, leaving him on the dance floor.
I need a goddamn translator by my side.
Julian watched as Stephanie whispered to the bride. The bride had nodded once before she glared at him. Then Clara excused herself and made her way towards him.
“Is Steph—” Julian began to say once she reached him.
“You owe me a dance, Julian Moors,” Clara interrupted.
He sighed and pulled his hands out of his pocket. “You’re a fucking frustration, Clara Parker. You’re lucky I like you or I’d kick your ass for interrupting.”
Clara smirked and then tilted her head. “Funny, my husband said the exact same thing.”
“Ugh, gross! All right, let’s get this stupid dance over with,” he said dragging out the annoyed tone in his voice.
“You know,” Clara said, placing her hand on his, “I’d normally be offended by that. But you’re lucky I like you or I’d kick your ass.”
“Please.” He rolled his eyes. “If anyone is gonna kick my ass, then it’s that prison guard of yours. I’d like to see you try, whip!”
Clara’s eyebrows furrowed. “I am not a whip!”
Julian let out a laugh. “Marriage is a form of legal imprisonment that doesn’t involve handcuffs and barbed wire… I mean your marriage can if you’re into that, Clara. I always knew you’d like it dirty.”
She took a step back. “You just earned your out. I can’t dance with you right now.”
Taking a step forward, Julian swept Clara into his arms. She let out a squeal and the material of her dress waved about with her kicks.
“You love me, don’t deny it! After all, I was your first kiss.”
“What?” Noel’s voice had Julian putting Clara down.
“Sorry, man,” Julian said as Clara adjusted her veil. Noel’s face tensed and his nostrils flared. Julian could tell that the revelation bothered him.
“Noel,” Clara said in a worried tone. Then she took his hand.
I don’t think I’m coming out of this shit alive.
“Anything else I need to know, Julian? You gonna tell me you love my wife, too?”
“Nothing I say next will lighten up the atmosphere, will it?” Julian asked.
Noel shook his head.
“Fine. We had sex, too, before I went to Sydney,” Julian joked.
Noel peeked over at Clara, and they both burst out laughing.
“Sorry, man. But I know you’re lying about that,” Noel stated proudly as he wrapped his arm around his wife.
“Now, how could you—Oh! I get ya. Nolan Parker, holder of his wife’s virginity!” Julian winked, and Clara’s face turned bright red.
“Jesus! Want to be any louder?” she exclaimed, seeing if anyone around them heard.
“Tell me Julian wasn’t your first kiss, baby?”
Clara turned her head and gave her husband an apologetic expression. “Noel, it was before you. You and Alex were already in college in California. Julian and I were close compared to you and me back then. And well, he dragged me to one of Max’s parties. I got thrown into the stupid spin the bottle circle and Mark Hill landed on me and wouldn’t kiss me. Julian took one for the team, and well, he kinda figured out that it was my first kiss.”
“Mark Hill didn’t want to kiss you?” Noel asked, bewildered.
“Nope. It wasn’t even like a full-blown kiss, and it was pretty weird.”
“Hey! It was the best kiss you ever had!” Julian said, defending himself.
Clara let out a laugh. “It was the only kiss I’d had. I didn’t kiss another guy until Darren. You’re not mad, are you? I kinda never counted Julian as my first kiss anyway.”
“It was lip on lip, Clara. There was contact. That shit counts as a kiss. I was there. You were there. Noel wasn’t there,” Julian said, knowing it would piss off his best friend.
“Mark Hill is a fucking idiot,” Noel said, ignoring Julian’s remark and reassured his wife with a kiss.
“I was a boy repellent then.” Clara smiled.
“Good. I’m glad you were because I got to have and keep you.” Noel turned his attention back to Julian. “Don’t even think about my wife’s lips or kissing her. I’ll kick your ass.”
Julian smirked and raised a brow at Clara. “See, I told you.”
Two days after the wedding, Julian stepped out of Max’s Porsche and took in the large Victorian apartment building. It was nice and looked pricey. Julian knew instantly that Clara’s brother, Alex, had forked over the money for i
t.
Bloody Lawrences and their money!
A small moving truck caught his eye, and he noticed Clara taking a box from her brother. He frowned when he remembered that she’d said their kiss had been weird. The testosterone in him hated it. But it was weird, and it didn’t last very long. It also didn’t help that she was inexperienced. But like Clara had said, he was taking one for the team.
Not waiting for Max, Julian crossed the road until he approached Clara. She glanced up at him and greeted him with a smile.
“Nice to see you awake,” Julian teased and then winked.
Clara’s fingers dug into the box she held, and her smile began to fade. “Shut up, Julian, and help out.”
“Like I helped out with your first kiss.” He raised both eyebrows at her.
“I would have dealt with Mark Hill’s rejection just fine. You didn’t have to kiss me. Now, grab a box,” Clara instructed with an annoyed tone as she nodded toward the truck.
“Not going to faint on me now, are you?” he asked, mocking her for blacking out at her own wedding.
“Grab a box, Moors!” Clara let out a huff then spun around and stormed through the gates of the apartment building. Julian watched as Clara handed Noel the box and then she began to make her way back to the truck.
“Where’s Stephanie?” Julian asked.
Clara stopped a few steps away from him.
She tilted her head. “You might want to start calling her ‘Stevie.’”
He blinked several times, walking to the back of the truck. Then Julian nodded to Alex as he was given a box from Clara’s brother. When he spun around, he faced his best friend’s wife. “I’d rather be shot in the face but thanks, Clara.” He gave her a wink and started to make his way towards the doors of the apartment building.
“Umm, Julian,” Clara called out.
He halted. Breathing in, he held the box tightly then faced her. There was a sad gleam in Clara’s eyes, and he felt a constricting pain in his chest. He feared what she’d say next.
“Don’t hurt her, okay? You’re a soft topic for her.” The concern was written all over the features of Clara’s face and posture.
“Clara,” Julian breathed out. But she shook her head, stopping him from continuing.
“No. I’m serious. I’m the only one who knows and I’m moving to Massachusetts. I can’t be here for her. And I can’t let you break her.”
Julian stared at her. All jokes aside, when it came to Stephanie, he was serious. She was his all-in. “Clara, I’m not here to break her heart. You don’t have to worry about that, all right? I’m in no business of breaking her heart because I want to win it back. I want to win Stephanie Appleton’s heart.”
“Toi, Stéphanie, tu es mon soleil rayonnant. Bright and beautiful, ma chèrie,” Stevie’s father said, gaining her attention.
You, Stephanie, are my radiant sun. Bright and beautiful, my dear.
Stevie shifted her attention from the passenger window towards her father and her lips curved upwards at him. “Papa, I will always be your soleil rayonnant,” Stevie reminded.
A smile touched her father’s lips as he parked the car. Ever since she was a little girl, she had been his soleil rayonnant. His radiant sun. He turned in his seat and took her hand. Then he brought it to his mouth before pressing his lips on her knuckles.
“Mon soleil,” her father whispered.
My sun.
Stevie smiled and took back her hand. She looked up at her father and saw a glint of sadness consume his blue eyes. “Toujours, Papa. Toujours.”
Always, Papa. Always.
“The house will be quiet now without you and your brother. I will miss you both,” her papa said as he cut the engine.
“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
Although she’d attended a family dinner last night with her stepmother, Rose, Jarred, and his wife, Annie, her father had wanted a special breakfast with his only daughter. The French restaurant he took her to in Prahran was one they frequented. Her father claimed it was as French as it could possibly get in Melbourne, and he was right. Stevie knew her father missed France, but her mother had been the reason he’d never returned. Before she was born, her parents had relocated to Melbourne for her father’s marketing career. At first, Collette had been supportive, but she had missed the French social scene so much that she left Melbourne soon after.
“Stéphanie, are you sure you don’t need help?”
With a firm shake of her head, Stevie picked up her handbag off the car floor and kissed father’s cheek. “I’ve got the boys helping.”
“I’m proud of you, Stéphanie.”
Stevie reached for the door handle and glanced at her father, his blonde hair was a fraction darker than hers, but their eyes were almost the same shade of blue. But she knew deep down that she was like a reflection of her mother for him.
I can’t let him down.
Not like in London.
I have to get through this internship with no drama.
“Love you, Papa,” Stevie said as she stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her. Her father beeped the car horn once and then drove off, back to their family home in Toorak.
Stevie stood on the curb and allowed her eyes to take in Harringtons Apartments. She had spent many times walking through those iron gates, but this time, it’d be to her apartment. Though it was still her best friend, Clara’s, Stevie would be living there while Clara moved to America to be with her husband, Noel.
Gazing up at the sun, Stevie sighed as the hot rays hit her skin. She was thankful for the dress she wore but desperately wanted to be inside and out of the heat. Once she checked that the street was clear, Stevie had crossed the road and headed towards the small moving truck her stepbrother, Jarred, had hired. It took most of yesterday to pack all her belongings. But due to the fact that some of her bedroom furniture needed to be brought to the apartment first, they had left some boxes behind.
Stevie approached the back of the truck. Inside, she noticed someone bending down to pick up a box. She mentally noted his nice rear before she had threaded the handle of her handbag onto her arm.
Oh, how tight jeans have really done wonders for a man’s ass.
She took her eyes off his backside just as he stood up and turned around. Stevie froze, staring at the ridiculous smile on Julian’s face.
“Mornin’, Stephanie!” he greeted as he stepped off the back of the truck. He towered over her, his eyes pinning her feet to the ground.
“W-what are doing here?” she managed out.
Julian gave her a playful shrug that she unfortunately liked. “Mainly here to annoy you and go through your shit.”
Honesty.
You are a stupid policy.
He didn’t give her any time to respond as he turned around and walked towards the entrance of the apartment building.
“Wait!” Stevie called out for him.
Julian stopped halfway to the double doors. “Yes, Stephanie?”
The way he said her name made her heart miss a beat. She swallowed hard in an attempt to squash that stupid missing heartbeat phenomenon going on in her chest. “I don’t think you should be here. I told you, if you have any resp—”
Julian shook the box he held, stopping her. “Blondie, what shit do you have in here? Look, I hope none of it was real important to you… Ahhh, Max may have dropped a box or two… or six.”
Stevie stepped forward and took the box out of his hands. None of that was important. She thought she had made it clear at the wedding that he had to stay away.
“I meant it, Julian. Look, you seem to have done real fine for yourself. You don’t need what I am to mess up this life you have. Respect yourself enough to stay away from me,” Stevie instructed firmly. Julian’s shoulders sagged then he took the box out of her hands.
“Stephanie, I’m not as pure as you think I am. Yeah, I Googled it! And honestly, I don’t have much self-respect to stay away. I
don’t know why you don’t think you’re not pure, but I see it in your eyes. Tu es pure, Stephanie,” Julian said.
You’re pure, Stephanie.
By the smile on his face, Stevie knew he was satisfied with his reply. Pure. That one word dug deep into her heart.
“We’re all a little tainted, Stevie. But deep down we’re all still pure. It just takes some time and someone to purify all the darkness away.”
Stevie’s breathing came out in heavy gasps, as she tried to stop the fire that burned through her chest. The ache made it difficult for her to breathe. She looked up at Julian, his eyes filled with concern.
Don’t think about London.
Don’t think about Thailand.
“Stop that!” she said once she got her equilibrium.
“Stop what?” he asked as he adjusted the box in his hand.
“Thinking you know who I am! Stephanie is long gone, Julian. I am not pure. I am far from it. You are pure. I am tainted. I’m not going to warn you again. Stay away from me! Don’t talk to me about then; it’s in the past. My name is Stevie. It always has been. I lied to you about my name from the very start.”
Julian let out a soft laugh. “Actually, you were honest from the start. You’ve just been lying to everyone else about your name. Me? Pure? I’m Julian Moors, Stephanie; there is nothing pure about me. But you’d be the one to purify me,” he said, taking her breath away.
I can’t be that person for him.
But he’s right.
When I met him, I had lied to everyone but him.
I was Stephanie.
I was the me I didn’t want people to know.
Stevie shook her head, stopping the thought from playing out. She reached for the box, but Julian moved.
“Blondie, don’t even try. I’m here to help you move in. I also bet you haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss.” He was diverting the conversation. It was as if he knew she was afraid to talk further about the previous topic.
Stevie tilted her head back and stared at the flawless blue sky. Then she closed her eyes.