Chapter 8
I talked with Julian for hours, diving into everything from design philosophies to dreams for the future.
I was struck by how effortlessly our ideas clicked–a connection I’d never felt with Declan Price, not once in our twenty years together.
With Declan, I’d always been the one giving, always looking up to him from a distance, trying to bridge a gap that never quite closed.
He’d talk about his career goals and lofty ambitions, while I was left to juggle the grind of everyday life–bills, errands, and the endless responsibilities that seemed to take up all my energy.
We had lived in separate worlds.
But with Julian, it was different. We met as equals, each genuinely admiring the other. The dinner passed in a warm haze of laughter and shared ideas.
Afterward, we strolled side by side along the riverbank, the evening breeze soft and refreshing against my skin.
Julian stopped abruptly, turning to face me. “Evie,” he said, his voice steady, “what’s your plan once the application results come in?”
I shrugged lightly. “If I get in, I’ll go study. If not, I’ll focus on my studio.”
He tilted his head, his gaze searching, “Ever thought about… something else?”
“Like what?” I asked, my brow furrowing
He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine, each word deliberate and sincere. “Like being my girlfriend.
I froze. My mind went blank, unable to process his words. Was he… confessing his feelings?
“…” Istammered, my heart in turmoil. I couldn’t deny the spark I felt for Julian–a quiet affection, even a sense of trust. But the scars from my past made me wary of tying my life to someone else again.
Julian seemed to read my hesitation, my fear. He let out a soft sigh and reached out, gently ruffling my hair.
“Don’t be scared,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “I’m not pushing you. Take all the time you need–I’ll wait.
His hand line
lingered, the warmth of his palm seeping through my hair, stirring a quiet comfort in my heart.
But the moment shattered with a shrill, venomous voice cutting through the calm. “Evelyn Hart, you shameless tramp!”
I turned to see Sierra Sanchez storming toward me, her pregnant belly prominent, her face twisted with rage. Behind her trailed Declan Price, his expression dark and stormy.
Sierra, heedless of her condition, lunged forward, claws aimed at my face. “You desperate hag! Can’t find a man of your own, so you go after someone else’s husband?”
Julian moved swiftly, stepping in front of me and blocking Sierra with ease. His face hardened, his voice cold. “Back off, lady.” Declan grabbed Sierra’s arm, his voice low and sharp. “Are you out of your mind? Stop this!”
“Stop?” Sierra yanked her arm free, jabbing a finger at me. “Declan, look at her! We just got married, and she’s already throwing herself at some rich guy! She’s trying to ruin us! She can’t handle us moving on!”
Her voice was shrill, piercing, drawing curious glances from passersby. I watched Sierra’s hysteries with a bitter amusement. “Sierra,” I said coolly, “you’re wrong. Declan and I have been over for a long time. Who I’m with is none of your business.” “You’ve got some nerve!” Sierra trembled with fury.
“If it weren’t for you, would Declan bring you up every day? Compare me to you? say I’m not as clever or put–together as you?” Her voice cracked, raw with resentment. “Evelyn Hart, what kind of hold do you have on him?”
