Page 22 of Unconditionally With Me
“I’d like to think somewhere along the way I’ve been paying attention to you, Elle, even if I haven’t been perfect.”
Just as I’m about to say something to contradict him, a bottle of wine is placed smoothly on the table along with two glasses. We go through the whole presentation, Julian taking a sip before offering it to me to try, before we both accept it’s perfect, and our glasses are filled.
When we’re alone again, I pick up where we left off. “It wasn’t just you, Jules. I locked away parts of myself because…”
“Because why?” He swirls his wine in one hand while he plays with my hair with the other.
“Because I thought that’s what I needed to do to feel safe.”
“Other than Erik, who made you not feel safe to love, my Elle?”
“Other than you and Trina, the better question is who made it safe to love?” I counter. I take a quick sip of the wine, noting the perfect notes of raspberry and blackberry popping off my tongue. “You know I was shuttled between my parents when I was young. Then they both conveniently forgot about me when they each started new families.”
“Assholes,” Julian utters clearly.
“I’ll reward you for your insight later,” I promise.
“That sounds promising. But you’re not going to distract me.”
I swirl my own wine, enjoying how the candlelight glows through the color. “Erik was my first serious relationship and my only one until you. Maybe it was the guys I was dating, but I felt very alone. That is until I met you. Then I felt afraid because I kept worrying about if I was going to do something to cause you to end it.” Holy crap, I’m not sure where all of that just came from.
Julian places his glass on the table before reaching for mine. He then lifts my hand to his lips. “And is that part of the reason why you’ve never demanded more for the last few years?”
“Maybe? Honestly, Julian, I haven’t been unhappy.”
His eyes bore into mine. I squirm beneath the intensity of his stare. “I’m serious. You know me in a temper. If I was unhappy, I would have said so.”
“No, you likely would have yelled about it.” But somehow that sets his mind at ease. “So, we were both moving to make changes at the same time.”
“That’s about it. Now the question is, are the changes compatible with one another?”
“I’m certain they will be.”
“Confident much?” I snatch up my wine and take a large slug of it.
I probably should have been more cautious because he carelessly throws out, “Since I plan on spending the rest of my life with you by my side, whether it’s here or New York, yes, I am.”
I start coughing uncontrollably.
Julian whacks me on the back. He asks, concerned, “Are you okay?”
“Warn a girl next time,” I sputter, but inside a glow is forming that I’m beginning to believe won’t be extinguished.
“I thought I did when the ring box fell out of my pocket.”
I stick my tongue out at him just as our first course arrives. And of course, it’s commented on. “Ahh, hungry, I see. I brought you some of our Dungeness Crab and Fried Green Tomatoes in a Tarragon Chive Ravigote. I hope you enjoy it.”
“It looks delicious,” Julian comments.
“I’m going to kill you,” I declare.
“You can’t claim all the food without having tried a bite,” he argues. But there’s a twinkle in his eyes that’s making my body heat.
And not with anger.
Suddenly, this multi-course dinner seems like an awful idea when all I want to do is drag Julian back to our room and show him how much I love him, how much I regret holding back from him. And how much I want to spend the next few days exploring us as much as this city.
Then again, judging by the look in his eyes as he holds his fork to my lips, I don’t need to say a word. I just open my mouth, and he passes the prongs past my lips. “Remarkable,” I whisper once I’ve swallowed.
