After we got back together, I stopped being all over Julian. I no longer asked when he’d be home from his work dinners, and I stopped offering to pick him up. I didn't get angry when he was friendly with his female colleagues, and I stopped checking his phone. Julian finally couldn't take it. "I feel like you've changed. Why aren't you… all over me anymore?" I looked up at him and said quietly, "You used to say I was suffocating you. You told me to be more independent. Isn't this what you wanted?" He just stared. 1 I was already in my pajamas when Julian’s call came in. He was clearly drunk. It was loud on his end, and I could hear someone else shouting. “Dude, I’ve dropped like six figures on my girl this year, and she won't even come get me! Fuck! Jules, your turn. Call Nina. I bet she won’t come either!” “No way, man, Julian’s girl is obsessed with him. She chased him for years. She’ll be here. She’s always calling to tell him not to drink, she’ll pick him up no matter how late. She’ll come.” It was some stupid, drunken bet. Julian’s voice, slurring with laughter, came closer to the phone. “Guys, shut up… Hey. I’m drunk. Come get me.” I said, flatly, “I’m already in bed. Get an Uber.” The background noise on his end vanished. Someone whispered, “Holy shit. She… she said no. She came in that ice storm last year…” Julian’s silence was heavy. When he spoke again, the laughter was gone. “Nina, you—” I cut him off. “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.” I hung up before he could say another word. The screen went black, reflecting my blank face. I turned my phone off, rolled over, and slept soundly. … I hadn't dreamt of the past much since we got back together. But maybe that call triggered it. In the haze of sleep, I could smell the rain again. It was the big nor'easter of 2023. Julian was out with friends. I’d called him, worried. “Hey, the storm’s bad, maybe drink less?” His voice was clipped, impatient. “Got it. Stop calling.” By midnight, he wasn't home. He wasn't reading my texts. I called again. Straight to voicemail. I panicked. What if something had happened? I grabbed my coat and called an Uber, not caring about the storm. The rain was so heavy the wipers were useless. The driver almost T-boned a car that ran a red light, and he laid on the horn, screaming, "FUCKING ASSHOLE, LEARN TO DRIVE!" He kept muttering and cursing the whole way. I just clutched my phone, terrified. It took an hour and a half to get from my place in Brooklyn to the restaurant in Midtown. My hands were clammy. When the Uber finally pulled up, I jumped out. Even with an umbrella, the wind and rain soaked me instantly. I saw Julian walking out of the restaurant and sagged in relief. I ran toward him. “Julian—” I stopped. He wasn't alone. A woman was beside him, wearing his suit jacket. Claire. Under the restaurant awning, she was perfectly dry. High heels, perfect makeup, laughing up at him. The smile on Julian’s face vanished when he saw me. His brow furrowed. “What are you doing here?” I just stared at him. “You weren't answering your phone.” “I told you I was busy. I told you to stop calling.” He sounded exasperated. “What is so important?” I wanted to ask why Claire was here. He’d said it was a “guys’ night.” Claire was his childhood friend. They’d grown up together, and he’d been crazy about her. She’d only just moved back from London. He’d not only hired her at his company, but he texted her constantly. The man who sent me one-word replies would stay up late, smiling at his phone, talking to her. When I’d confronted him, he’d snapped. “We talk about work, Nina. She’s not like you. She’s brilliant, she’s independent. She’s not just… thinking about relationships all the time. God, you’re so suffocating.” I should have been screaming. I should have asked him why he was lying. But I just wiped the rain from my face. “...I was worried. I came to pick you up.” Claire laughed. “Nina, are you checking up on him? I’ve heard you keep him on a tight leash. Wow.” His friends behind him snickered. “I’m taking Claire home. You go on,” Julian said. He sounded… embarrassed. He started to walk past me, then stopped. He reached out and took the umbrella from my hand. “You’re already soaked, anyway.” I just stood there, stunned, watching him hold my umbrella over Claire. She leaned into his side, glanced back at me, her red lips curved in a smile. I couldn't tell if it was pity or a warning. “Nina, men are like sand,” she said, her voice sweet. “The tighter you grip…” “Don't bother, Claire. She wouldn’t get it. Let’s go.” He walked her to his car. The taillights disappeared into the rain. He never asked how I got there. Or how I was getting home. One of his friends, trailing behind, looked at me. “Uh... how’d you get here, Nina? I can give you a ride if it’s on my way.” I just stood there for a second, numb. “Thanks,” I whispered. “I’d appreciate that.” 2 Loving Julian was just… a fact of my life. My friends had called me an idiot a hundred times. I knew all the reasons I should leave. I just couldn't. I met him when I was working part-time at a 24-hour bodega. A drunk guy came in for cigarettes, got mad I was slow, and then actually swung at me. I flinched, but the punch never landed. A long-fingered hand had caught the man's wrist. Under the harsh fluorescent lights, I saw a guy my age, handsome, with a sharp jaw and dark eyes. He was wearing a black hoodie. “Pathetic,” he said, his voice cold. “Taking your shitty day out on a girl?” The drunk mumbled something, but the guy just tightened his grip. The man winced and scrambled out. I was shaking. “Th-thank you.” “Whatever,” he said, paid for his Red Bull, and left. It didn't take long to find out who he was. Julian King. A finance major. A campus legend. His family was old money, but he was completely estranged from them. He’d built his own software company from his dorm room. His resume was as flawless as his face. The more I learned, the more I fell. Who wouldn't? I was a lost cause. But I knew I was out of his league, so I just watched from a distance. The few minutes he spent in the bodega every night were the highlight of my day. One night, I got brave and paid for his drink before he could. “It’s… for helping me. That night.” He just put a twenty on the counter, his face blank. “It was nothing. I don’t need it.” My face burned. “Oh. Okay.” Tons of girls liked him, but he never dated. I told myself it was because he was focused on work. I started using our “classmate” status to get closer. His stomach was bad; he always skipped breakfast. I started bringing him breakfast. It rained; I brought him an umbrella. He played pickup basketball; I washed his jersey. It took three years of this. I learned why he was estranged. His father's affair had literally driven his mother to a nervous breakdown, and she’d never recovered. He’d cut his family off. I started spending holidays with him, the ones he would have spent alone. Finally, after a New Year's Eve we spent just the two of us, he was a little drunk, and he just said, “Nina. Let’s just… be together.” No flowers. No "I love you." My heart exploded. I just whispered, "Okay." For two years, I was the perfect girlfriend. He was distant, but I just told myself that was his personality. Until Claire came back. Until I saw him smiling at his phone at 2 AM. I finally admitted the truth. He wasn't incapable of love. He just didn't love me.
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