“What?”
“I see how you explain things to yourself.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means nothing is ever your responsibility.”
Julian stepped closer.
“You need to be careful.”
I looked at him.
Not with fear.
Not with anger.
With disappointment.
And somehow, that affected him more.
“You know what’s strange?” I said softly. “I spent years believing the hardest part of my life was becoming successful. Getting through university. Working late nights. Saving every dollar. Buying this place.”
My eyes moved around the condo.
The home I had built before him.
The walls I had painted.
The furniture I had chosen.
The life I had created.
“I was wrong.”
Julian frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“The hardest part was believing someone deserved to share it with me.”
The room became quiet.
For the first time that evening, Julian looked uncertain.
But only for a second.
