Page 89 of Accidental Fiancé

I had seen the way Julian had looked at me during the confrontation, the admiration in his eyes as I stood my ground. That wasn't pity.

It was love.

He reached his hand out for me and I took it willingly, abandoning my luggage by the front door, and followed him upstairs.

Once inside his room, I stood there for a moment, watching him. I felt as though I was seeing him for the first time. All those furtive glances. His protective nature. He wasn't worried that I couldn't handle myself. He simply wanted to be there for me. Because he loved me.

I felt like a fool.

“Julian,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

For a moment, neither of us said a word. We just stared at each other, the air thick with something unspoken that had been building for far too long.

He swallowed once. Twice. As if trying to find the words or the nerve to say them. “You're staying?”

I nodded, stepping closer to him. “If I'm still welcome. Here. With you.”

He closed the distance between us in a few long strides until he was standing right in front of me. I loved having him close. His presence was comforting. “Maggie, I?—"

But before he could finish, I reached out and placed a hand on his chest. He fell silent. His heartbeat was strong beneath my palm, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breaths. He looked down at my hand, then back up at me, his expression unreadable.

I whispered, “What now?”

“That depends on you. Why did you come up here with me?”

I squirmed against the depth of that question. There were so many reasons, but only one that mattered. “I had to. Needed to.”

“But what about everything you said before?”

It was hard to admit that I was wrong. That I had let my high school insecurities interfere with who I’d become and what I wanted now. It made me feel childish and pathetic, but I had to own it.

I cleared my throat. “I was stupid. I let Chloe get in my head and convince me that I was the pathetic thing she accused me of being. That I was just someone to be pitied instead of someone to be loved. And I thought that you saw me the same way she did. I?—"

“Are you saying,” his words came out slowly and quietly, “that’s the way you saw yourself?”

The question struck hard. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he waited for an answer. I didn’t want to give it. But I owed him that. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I was poor and unpopular, and those things don’t usually make a girl feel all that confident. It took me a while to come to embrace who I am despite how I grew up, and teenage me was not there yet. I suppose there were residual echoes of things inside my head, that is, until I saw Chloe have a meltdown over absolutely nothing.” A nervous laugh escaped me. “But I can’t say those issues won’t come up again. I’m human. Insecurities are real, and when things started to fall apart, they crept up again. I might be poor but I’m proud and receiving anyone’s pity doesn’t sit well with me.”

He exhaled out his nose, a little frustrated. “Maggie, you have never been someone to pity. When we met, and I asked for your help with algebra, did you think I did it because I felt sorry for you? Or because I admired you and knew you could help?”

I chuckled a little at that. “You definitely needed my help. You couldn’t solve x for shit.”

He grinned. “Damn straight. And when I asked you to go to the movies with me, was that out of pity or because we shared an interest in those movies?”

“I get it now.”

“What about when we went for long walks downtown at all hours, just hanging out and talking about nothing?” He raised a hand to my cheek, touching me softly. “Did I feel sorry for you then, or did I want to spend time with the prettiest girl I had ever seen?”

My heart swelled in my chest. My words tripped over my lips, quiet and unsure. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Maggie. I never could. You’re not less-than, you’re not a thing to be pitied. You’re a woman to be loved and adored, cherished and worshipped every day.”

It was impossible not to fall into his sparkling gaze. “I made a mistake, Jules. Can you forgive me?”

His gaze intensified, and I could see emotion flickering in his eyes. He paused as if overwhelmed but then he steadied himself, and his voice became clearer as he spoke slowly. “I can forgive you if you tell me precisely what you want. Chloe aside, high school bullshit aside, tell me what you want. Why you came up here with me.”

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