I bit my lip. “Pretty boy… are you mad at me?”
He sat and soothed me.
“I’m not mad. I just got back late after seeing the guests off. Why would I be mad at you over that jerk Cole?“.
Thunder cracked outside.
I flinched all over again.
He laughed. “You’re scared of thunder?”
I thumped his chest in annoyance.
He caught my wrist.
“With me here, the lightning hits me first,” he said.
Does he not know people conduct electricity?
Childish.
I was exhausted that night.
I curled up in Julian Parker’s arms.
He covered my ears with his hands.
I drifted off, breathing slowly.
The next morning, the butler brought in an envelope.
Inside were photos–me and Cole Lawson, one for each birthday—
his face changing bit by bit from soft to sharp, handsome as he grew.
Back then, he protected me and was good to me.
Somewhere along the way, he stopped bringing me to important events, he thought I didn’t fit.
When I was with him, his friends would laugh at me.
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Little by little, he ran out of patience.
At the bottom of the envelope was that voice recorder.
I pressed play.
“I know you must be forced. You like Cole so much. It’s all my fault. If you want to come back, the
Lawsons‘ door is always open. Nellie, I’ll always welcome you home.”
I stared at nothing for a beat.
Julian plucked the recorder from my other hand.
He tossed me over his shoulder and dropped me onto the bed.
“I held back last night because you were dead tired,” he said, angry, the corners of his eyes going
red. “And you hit me with this first thing in the morning?”
I blurted, “I’m not going back.”
He fanned out the photos–nine in all.
“So a birthday together is worth remembering?” he said.
The past is the past.
But Julian could be incorrigible.
He said after he’d had his way once, I had to tear up one photo with my own hands.
Four were left; my hands shook so hard I couldn’t finish.
My legs went weak. I blacked out.
Afterward, I heard Mr. Lawson exploded.
Cole’s reputation in our circle was ruined.
Mr. and Mrs. Lawson made him kneel in the family chapel, then sent him abroad.
No word came after that.
It was much later that I learned Julian honored my dad every year.
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Every year, he’d see me there crying and sniffling.
Only that year, I was alone, taking the insults without talking back,
just sobbing for Dad.
He watched me a long time.
And that was the moment he stepped in.
He told me he liked me.
I wasn’t sure what kind of like it was, whether it would last―longer than nine birthdays.
But he never left me behind.
When I was at my lowest, he treated me well.
That year, I got pregnant.
I was scared the baby would be as slow as me.
He told me, “Nellie wasn’t slow as a kid. Did you forget?”
I only knew the house had lots of little certificates.
Mom said I’d been a smart kid.
I couldn’t remember.
The day I gave birth, the pain ripped me apart.
He stood outside the delivery room sobbing loud enough for the whole ward.
When it was over, he stood there like a child, frantic, staring at me–more childish than me.
He didn’t even look at the wrinkled newborn, just said, “We’re not doing this again. Ever.”
In that moment, I knew Julian cared about me–not like Cole.
We’d celebrate many, many birthdays together.
Chapter 1