What You Left Behind

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Julian

The way Stephanie’s hand fit in his was utter perfection. No one fit him like she did. In their years apart, no one had ever come close. Julian’s eyes swept through the reception before his eyes landed on the groom, Noel, raising an eyebrow. Julian shook his head and turned around to face Stephanie as she chewed her lip.

Letting out a sigh, he brought her close to his body, resting his left hand on the small of her back. He liked her body close—more like he fucking loved it. The flash of worry in her eyes didn’t sit well with him. He held her in the middle of the dance floor.

“He’s not here,” Julian stated. Stephanie released her lip and looked up at him. Those hurtful blue eyes brought had brought him joy but also his destruction. Julian just hoped maybe she could be his salvation or maybe he could be it for her.

“Who?” Stephanie asked as she placed her hand on his shoulder. Her touch igniting his heart, slowing it down until it beat with an uncomfortable burning sensation.

“Rob. He’s gone to take my father home,” Julian said as he led her into a slow dance.

Stephanie looked away, staring to her right. Julian didn’t take his eyes off her as she kept her eye on the others around them.

“You know, Stephanie, it wouldn’t be so bad if you looked at me during this dance. After all, you did ask me to dance with you. Not a lovely vault memory if I can’t even memorise your face in this exact moment. You asked and I answered.” Julian made sure her body didn’t break contact with his as squeezed her hand, ensuring she felt him.

Stephanie slowly turned her head until her eyes met his. That wariness was one he didn’t enjoy staring into. “You replied in French. I asked you in English not French, Julian.”

He chuckled and before she could question his laugh, Julian dipped her. Bringing her back up, he leaned in close to her ear, “French is what we have together, ma cœur.” She tensed in his hold before she pushed off of him.

“I am not your heart, okay. I'm not. We had a week together. That’s it. If you have any respect for yourself, Julian, you’ll stay away from me,” Stephanie warned and her hands balled into fists beside her.

“Stephanie, you asked me for a dance together,” he reminded as he closed the distance between them. Stephanie took another step back before shaking her head.

“No,” she said firmly and Julian steeled at that one word.

“No?”

“I’m drunk, Julian. I don’t know what this dance means.” There was no slur in her words, no glassiness in her eyes. He knew she was bullshitting but he wasn’t going to push her.

Instead, Julian placed his hands in his pockets in an attempt to not force her to stay. “You sure know how to break a man’s heart, Stephanie.”

Stephanie winced before him. This time her eyes glazed over. She looked around them before she uttered, “C'est pour le mieux, Julian. C'est pour le mieux.”

“What does that—“ Julian stopped just as Stephanie took a step towards Clara. “Don’t do this, Stephanie,” he begged.

“Tu es pur. Je suis pas,” she whispered before she left him on the dance floor.

I need a goddamn translator by my side.

Julian watched as Stephanie whispered to Clara before Clara started turned to face him. He gave the bride a shrug and she squinted at him. Before he knew it, Clara excused herself and walked towards him.