Page 83 of Volatile

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Chapter Twenty-Two

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Two Months Later

Jon stood on the sidewalk, hoping to catch a glimpse of her through the large window before going inside. It was almost one year to the day since he’d last seen her, and he wasn’t sure how either of them would react when he did again.

When he didn’t find her, he went to the door, noting the posted menu. There was a daily special written in pink and a score of regular items listed. One in particular caught his eye: The Julian. Crepes stuffed with seasonal berries and topped with a raspberry chocolate sauce and fresh whipped cream. At one time seeing their two names merged together would’ve made his mouth taste rancid, but now? Now, it was finally time for him to take that first step inside.

With the covered frame gripped in one hand, his other pushed open the door. The aroma, both savory and sweet, slammed him instantly. It smelled incredible. His eyes shifted to the left, and then he saw her, head down and speaking to a diner at one of the corner tables.

She was laughing, a beaming smile covering her face. Her blonde hair was longer than he’d remembered, clipped at the base of her neck and hanging loosely down her back. She was as beautiful as ever, radiant even. The same except—

Julia looked up and met his gaze. “Jonathan?” Her smile grew wider. “Jonathan!”

She rushed over, wrapping her arms around him. He set her gift against the wall and returned the hug. She pulled back with hands planted firmly on his arms and eyed him over. When her eyes met his once again, he received yet another confirmation that she was completely free of him. No part of her belonged to him any longer. Never truly had, at least in the ways that mattered. He could have grasped her nape and spoken deeply like he’d done so many times prior. Palmed her throat and whispered all the things that used to make her melt and it wouldn’t have affected her one bit. And that made him... happy.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said.

Jon glanced around at all the occupied tables. “Place looks like it’s doing well.”

She nodded. “Better than I could’ve ever dreamed. But about you.... I’ve been worried, you know.”

He smiled. It wasn’t deserved, but he still appreciated the concern. “Thank you, Julia, but I’m perfectly fine. There’s no need to worry.”

“But Jacque said....” Julia nibbled on her bottom lip.

“It doesn’t matter what Jacque said. Have I ever lied to you?”

She sighed, her lips curving up. “Okay.” She removed her hands from him and smacked them on her hips. “Where are my manners? Have a seat.” She waved to a table. “What can I get you? On the house, of course.”

He laughed. “Maybe next time. I didn’t come to eat.” Julia tilted her head, giving him a questioning look when he picked up the painting. “I came to bring you this. Consider it an early birthday present.”

She squished her eyebrows together. He could only imagine what was going through her head. Showing up out of the blue with a gift after all this time? He’d be suspicious too.

“Go ahead, open it.”

He watched as she peeled aside a corner of the pale blue paper, his attention drawn to the chain around her neck. The heart-shaped stone in the center matched perfectly with her eyes. It looked like it’d been designed for her, and it probably had. To most people it would look like an elegant choker, but Jon saw it for what it was: Ian’s collar.

“Jonathan?” She freed the portrait from the wrapping and held it in her hands. “You did this?”

He nodded. Her eyes darted back and forth between him and the painting. He detected her recognition; she knew the time period it was from, but she didn’t comment. The original painting had captured her beauty and seductive innocence, and while he hadn’t masked those qualities with the new version, he’d redesigned it into something tasteful and appropriate. It was something she could be proud to display if she chose.

“It... it’s beautiful, Jonathan.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jon had no clue of the painting’s fate; it could end up as firewood for all he knew after her husband got a hold of it, but it was finally out of his hands. That brought him a great deal of relief. He had no business keeping such an image in his home, not of a woman who belonged to another, and it wasn’t enough to simply get rid of it. He had to transform it and create a new memory.

It’d been fucking cathartic, and he’d never felt better. Julia wasn’t the only one completely free. His chains were severed.

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