Page 49 of Julian's Curse

“I’m so disappointed in you,” he spat, slamming his fist on the table. “And with that loser you’re seeing too—thinking he can make a living playing the piano.” With that, he turned and walked out, leaving me standing there. Through the living room window, I watched him get into his Lexus and drive away, the silence enveloping me like a suffocating fog.

On a random note, it suddenly hit me how our house was completely empty of any pictures of Mom. My stepmother had taken them all down as soon as she moved in, replacing those memories with her own. Nothing in the house felt familiar anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t have even been here at all then. Without waiting for her response, I sprinted upstairs to grab my phone and quickly packed the small suitcase I had brought home for the break. I hadn’t planned to stay long anyway.

You okay?James texted to my Blackberry.

Not even close, I replied, not needing to explain how lately, life felt like hell. Fear had gripped me so tightly it was paralyzing.

I am coming to pick you up, he let me know.You’re not alone in this. My family would love to have you over for the holidays, Lucie.

This was the first time I realized that love could, in some way, save me. Without James, the day would have felt muchdarker and lonelier. But with him, it became an adventure, and at least I knew what came next. He had a way of helping me stop overthinking, which, for an introvert, felt like a lifeline.

Within ten minutes, James’s 2003 Discovery Land Rover pulled up in front of my father’s house. He stepped out, leaning against the truck with a cigarette in hand—a bad habit he should quit. It was the 2010s, when smoking still seemed common, especially among those who didn’t think too much about the consequences.

For a moment, I watched him through the window, indulging in a fleeting moment of voyeurism, allowing myself to analyze him from a distance. James Stone had an edge to him that I liked a lot. Rebellious energy lingered around him like a cloud of smoke, while he effortlessly balanced two sides of himself: the creativity of an artist and the precision of a mathematician. He exuded a quiet, dangerous confidence—something about it, combined with his messy brown hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that always seemed to be sizing things up, had the power to crush hearts. My classmates flocked to him because he had a way of making you feel like the world was yours—if only you could see it through his eyes.

He also had a rare patience, waiting for me without complaint—something most guys wouldn’t bother with. The two of us had been in a relationship for almost a year, yet we had stayed just a bit more than friends. We kissed passionately, and made out, but I still wasn’t ready to cross the first base with him. Sometimes, I wondered if James had other girls on the side to satisfy his needs, but it didn’t seem like it—at least not right now. He appeared genuinely invested in me, despite my own hesitations. I often found it ironic that the biggest prude in our class, myself, was dating a notorious bad boy. But that was also the thing—bad boys often had surprising depth and a sharp intelligence beneath their tough exterior. At least, that’s how itseemed to me. It felt like there was a pattern there, one that perhaps science hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“Oh, Lucie,” he pulled me into a hug the moment I approached the car. As I buried my face in his chest, I caught a glimpse of my stepmom through the window. I was pretty sure I saw her lips move, muttering something along the lines of, “The trash takes itself out.” I wiped my tears. “I hate her,” I spoke about my stepmom and he immediately knew.

I brought you something to cheer you up,” he ignored her with nonchalance, nodding toward a box filled with an assortment of flavored Trident gum on the passenger seat. The sight of it shifted my mood. How long had he spent collecting these? There was Original Mint, Spearmint, Tropical Twist, Watermelon, Wintergreen, Fruit Rush, Tropical Fruit, and even a limited-edition Piña Colada I’d lately liked the most. Chewing gum had become a small comfort for me, and he’d clearly noticed.

“So thoughtful of you,” I grabbed the box with a genuine smile as I settled into the passenger seat. He shut the door behind me and walked around to the driver’s side. “Let’s get you out of here.” He sank into his seat with an effortless ease, his composure unwavering.

Neither one of us said anything else, while he blasted deep, emotional piano music from the speakers. It was his constant companion, his beautiful obsession. He’d won the Seattle International Piano Competition, and it seemed like he’d be on his way to Juilliard for grad school. I wondered if life would eventually separate us and how I’d cope. Would I be able to let go when the time came? I pushed it aside for the moment, wanting to stay in the present.

He revved the engine, and we were finally driving away from the house of nightmares.

“Lucie, I care.” He sent me a side glance. “I’ll always be here for you.”

It sounded like a promise. Maybe even a vow.

I felt a deep sense of shame, realizing that everything I owned was packed into one suitcase. With the school dining hall closed for the winter, I knew I’d need to make money soon. Even buying meals could soon become a struggle, but there was always the possibility of finding an off-campus job that paid more. Then again, because of my eating disorder, I didn’t eat much. Lately, I’d become unable to touch anything that nourished my body. It was possible to smart and dumb at the same time when it came to my disease.

“Why don’t we stop by Jack in the Box?” He proposed as if he could read my mind.

A burger truly sounded amazing—juicy, warm, with melted cheese and all the toppings piled high. But I hesitated. This wasn’t in line with the resolution I’d made to stick to low calorie foods. Yet, he made it so tempting. Not just the idea of going out, but the idea of living without guilt in general.

“I love curves on you, Lucie,” he swallowed, his voice steady and sincere. “I wouldn’t mind a few extra pounds on you.” His tone remained firm, yet gentle, as if he truly cared about my well-being. “I mean, you’re hot as hell already, but you know…”

Did he know how deeply this touched me? I’d always felt the pressure to be perfect. I had to stick to a strict gym routine, apply heavy makeup every morning—anything to gain acceptance. Only when I caught those admiring, even ogling, looks from others did I feel adequate. The idea of having any flab, anywhere, terrified me. It was as if my worth depended on being flawless. And yet, in that moment, he had completely erased that toxic notion. Because having his acceptance meant everything to me right then. He made me feel like I was enough, just as I was. Nobody, except for mom, a long time ago, had done that for me.

“Sounds good, let’s eat,” I grinned.

James was too smart to ever pressure a girl to change her body for him. But he had become aware of my struggle, and being the gentleman that he was, he wouldn’t say it directly. Instead, he dropped subtle hints, hoping I would understand that my healing was important to him. “Great, let’s go to the airport after that,” he suggested.

He was in the process of getting his Cessna license, and flying was something he couldn’t wait to share with me. The excitement in his voice was palpable as if every lesson brought him closer to a dream he was eager to live out with me there. I was almost beginning to believe that he could be my happy ending. After all, Grandpa and Grandma met when they were around our age. If he did end up going to Juilliard, could I move to New York with him?

“I love you,” he said, catching me off guard.

I gave him a glance, marveling at his statement. Yes, I could picture myself in the Big Apple. “I love you too,” I quickly echoed. But it was bittersweet. For the rest of the drive, I stared out of the window of his Discovery, watching as the scenery quickly disappeared behind us, the landscape blurring into a haze of colors and shapes. Still, likeThe Dharma Bumssaid in Jack Kerouac, I felt like I had nothing to offer except my own confusion.

I lay in bed,feeling almost lifeless. The intensity of the flashback to the old days with James caught me by surprise. My positive memories of him had remained buried somewhere deep in my subconscious until now, like fragments of a past Ishouldn’t revisit. In that quiet moment, just before dawn, I realized something important. Everything that had happened to me—good or bad—was part of the journey that shaped me into the person I was today. And though I no longer recognized the insecure, broken girl I once was, I still understood her. I felt compassion for her pain, as if she were a part of me I could never truly leave behind.

It was probably time to finally face the articles about me and James, just to get a sense of the damage and see how far the fallout had spread. So, after making a cup of coffee with precisely 200 mg of caffeine, and settling back into bed, I googled my name along with Julian’s. The softness of the morning shattered instantly, like ice water splashed in my face, leaving me disoriented.

Lucie Benton Gets an Abortion After Breakup with Billionaire Valmont: A Heartbreaking Decision

Contrary to my expectation, the articles about James and me weren’t the most important news of the day, this was. I shot out of bed, a claw of shock snatching the breath from my lungs.

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