Julie took a deep breath, as if steeling herself to take a vault of faith. She began to tell him about her adventures in Paris, about the intricate details of gothic edifices, the dateless beauty of the Louvre, the vibrant energy of the city that no way slept. She spoke of her peregrination to Spain, the stirring armature of Barcelona, the ancient prodigies of Madrid. She spoke of her time in Italy, the towering marble puppets, the cobblestone streets and the scent of late roasted meat that filled the air.
She spoke with passion, her voice taking on a new energy, as if her recollections were coming alive before her. Den listened carefully, his eyes no way leaving hers as if he was seeing her for the first time. "You are a different woman now, Julie." Den said when she had finished her story. "You've bloomed.And You've found your own path." He said with a wide smile on his handsome features. Julie smiled, a flicker of warmth returning to her heart. "And you've become the man you were always meant to be." she replied, her voice filled with admiration. As they stood there, lost in discussion, a tall and handsome young man approached them. Den, noticing the questioning look on Julie's face, turned towards him. "Oh, This is my younger brother, Sebastian." he introduced. Sebastian, with his piercing blue eyes and a smile that framed on his face extended his hand towards Julie. "It's nice to meet you, Julie. Den's told me so much about you." He held her hand a little longer than necessary, his eyes moping on her face. A shiver ran down Julie's spine as Sebastian's hand brushed against hers. She knew that look. It was the same look Den had given her when they first met. A look filled with a attractive intensity that could be both intoxicating and unsettling. "Sebastian." Den intruded, his voice harsh and authoritative. "We were just about to leave." He said. Sebastian, his smile fading slightly glanced at Den with a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. He knew that Den was trying to part Julie from him. "Alright, alright." he conceded, his voice laced with pure annoyance. "I will see you later, bro." He hissed. Den turned to Julie, a reassuring smile on his face. "It was nice seeing you." he said, his voice slightly audible above the roar of the city outdoors as they walked out. "You too, Den." Julie replied, her heart pounding in her chest. The unanticipated meeting, the shared memories and the moping passions. There were all too much for her to handle. Den's hand brushed against hers as he led her away from Sebastian, an implied understanding passing between them. They walked in silence for a while with the city lights reflecting in their eyes. "I should go." Julie said, her voice reluctant. "I've a lot to do tomorrow." "I know." Den replied, his eyes searching hers. "But I can not let you go without asking if you'd like to have dinner." Julie dithered, her heart torn between her desire to be with him and her fear of getting hurt again. "I....I do not know." she stammered. Den's smile returned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "How about a drink then? To catch up. You know, old times sake?" He asked. Julie felt a surge of excitement washing over her, a dangerous blend of expectation and apprehension. With a deep breath, she decided to take a chance. "Alright." she said, her voice slightly audible. "A drink it is." They spent the next few hours in a dimly lit bar, lost in discussion with their laugh filling the air. Den was fascinating, funny, and perceptive. He spoke of his company, his intentions and his dreams. Julie listened, charmed by his passion and his drive. As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely, and their discussion flowed into a familiar meter. They talked about their lives, their dreams, their expedients. They disregarded about their past, the laugh pigmented with a bittersweet melancholy. And then, as if it were ineluctable, their fingers brushed, their eyes met, and they were pulled back into the world they had once shared, a world where their history and their present intertwined in a dizzying cotillion of feelings. It was a night of revived passions, a night of stolen kisses, a night where old injuries were temporarily forgotten. They ended up in a near hotel, their bodies entwining in a passionate grasp, their pain forgotten and their future uncertain. The next morning, Julie woke up first. She lay in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs, her head aching dully with the events of the previous night replaying in her mind. She had given in to the appeal of his charm and the comfort of his familiar touch. She had allowed her passions and the remnants of a love that had once burned so brightly to cloud her judgment. A surge of guilt washed over her. She had promised herself she wouldn't be involved with Den again. She had learned her lesson. He had betrayed her once, shattered her heart and left her feeling lost and alone. She scolded herself quietly, her voice echoing in the quiet room. She had allowed her passions to get the better of her, to pull her back into a dangerous whirlpool of feelings. She slipped out of bed, her movements quiet and deliberate, and dressed snappily with her mind racing. She could not stay. She had to leave. Den was still asleep, his face peaceful and his hair tousled on the pillow. He looked young and nearly vulnerable, a stark discrepancy to the confident and important CEO she had seen on stage just that evening. She dithered, a surge of tenderheartedness washing over her. But she knew she had to be strong. She could not afford to get lost in him again. She left a note on the bedside table, her handwriting shaky, her heart heavy. "I had a awful time last night. But I can not do this again. I am not the same woman I was. Goodbye, Den...."The scent of frying bacon and onions, a symphony of salty savory bliss drifted up the stairs, pulling Julie from the depths of her chaotic bedroom. Her wallet lay open on the floor, a testament to her fleet trip to the Tech conference, its contents scattered like the thoughts in her head. The conference had been a blur of addresses, networking, and the unanticipated and exhilarating time with Den Neumann now A billionaire CEO, a man she had not seen in five years, now a Goliath in the tech world yet still, in some inexplainable way, the same boy she had fallen for all those times agone . She had spent the night with him, a night she swore she wouldn't remember, the night she swore wouldn't let consume her. But it had, with a dizzying intensity that left her both intoxicated and alarmed. The guilt, the shame, the fear of what her family, especially her mother, would think, were feelings that threatened to drown her in their grim swells. Julie ran her fingers through her hair, trying
“Good morning, Mrs. Garfield." Den Neumann greeted her with a polite smile, his voice a low baritone that seemed to carry the weight of an implied reason. Mrs Garfield still remained impervious to his charm. Her lips tensed into a thin disapproving line. "What do you want, Den?" she snapped, her voice laced with bitterness. "Do you want to come by and do further damage to my daughter's heart? You did enough the last time!" Den's face fell. The smile dissolved, replaced by a look of genuine guilt. "I..I wouldn't want to hurt her.” he said painfully, his eyes dropping to the worn carpet. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for whatever happened in the past. I know I did wrong." Mrs Garfield scoffed, her arms folded across her chest. "You know, Den? Saying you are sorry does not erase the past. It does not mend broken hearts. And it does not make amends for the pain you foisted on my daughter." The silence that followed was heavy, thick with implied resentments and the ghost of a love that h
The next day, Den returned this time with a bouquet of lilies, Julie"s favourite flowers. The two of them drove to a cozy cafe built magnificently in a quiet corner of city. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and cookies filled the air, creating a comfortable and intimate air.As they sat down at a table by the window, Den, his eyes fixed on Julie took a deep breath and began to speak. “Julie, I know I hurt you. I understand that I"ve no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I"m truly sorry for what I did.”Julie, still raised a hand to stop him. “Don"t, Den. It doesn"t matter now. We"re different people now. The history is the history.”Den, his eyes searching, leaned forward. “But the past wasn"t just a mistake, Julie. It was...it was a betrayal. I know that. I"m not trying to excuse myself, but I want you to understand.” He pleaded.Julie cut him off again, her voice crisp and firm. “Den, stop. We both know what happened. We don"t need to go over it again. It"
Julie's breath caught in her throat. A million questions raced through her mind, each more agonizing than the last. This was it, the truth she had been desperately trying to ignore, the truth that Den had so cunningly concealed.He was engaged.Den, clearly unconscious to the storm brewing within Julie, gave a nervous chortle. 'Oh, Angela, this is Julie, an old friend.' He tried to introduce them with a casual ease that felt forced, his smile strained.Julie forced a smile back, a brittle nearly mocking expression that failed to mask the stewing wrathfulness within her. "Yes, an old friend." she echoed, her voice tight, her eyes fixed on Den with a silent rage in her eyes.The air in the cafe seamed to stiffle and the chatter around them reduced to a muffled drone. Angela, unconscious to the tense atmosphere, settled into the seat beside Den, her smile unwavering.'An old friend, huh? Well, it's nice to eventually meet you, Julie." she said, her voice honeyed, her eyes still holding t
The familiar weight of the front door unlocking unrestricted echoed through the empty house, a sound that typically brought a sense of comfort, but today, it felt like a thud against Julie’s heart. She walked by, her shoulders drooped, the remnants of the evening adhering to her like a damp fog. The aroma of hot coffee and a memorial of the disastrous date, hung in the air, thick and unpleasant.Five years since Den had walked out of her life, leaving an ocean of heartache that she had only just begun to mend. And now, here he was, back in her life, a whirlwind of success and wealth, but still the same fascinating and infuriating, insufferable man she had fallen for all those years agone.The silence of the house was broken only by the ticking of the grandfather timepiece in the hallway, its slow and steady meter mocking her distress. The setting sun cast long shadows across the living room, painting the space in tones of orange, a reflection of the mixed feelings swirling inside her.
The autumn sun slanted through the window of Lita's apartment, painting warm stripes across the worn rustic floor. Julie sat at the kitchen table, drinking from a mug of hot tea with the discussion with Lita still echoing in her ears. It was Five years since she had broken up with Den, five years since she had last felt the sting of his rejection and the echo of his words.“Two months.” Lita had said, her voice hushed. “And he is marrying Angela. That girl who used to work at the tech establishment, you know?” She said after reading the invitation.A surge of nausea washed over Julie, and she pushed her tea away, the bitterness moping on her tongue. It was her fault. She had been foolish, a fool to think that she could jump back into the past and to believe that their love could be reignited. They were in different places now, their lives moving in separate directions and their hearts belonging to different people.“It's okay.” Lita had said. “You will be fine, Julie. You are strong,
The air hung thick with expectation in the grand chamber of the New York Hilton. Sun rays filtered through the building's glass Windows, cast a dappled pattern on the polished floor where a mass of neatly dressed men and women buzzed with energy. Julie Garfield in her well ironed panty suit, a stark discrepancy to the muted tones of the cityscape outside, navigated the mass with a small leather bound tablet gripped in her hand. The air vibrated with the electric hum of ambition, the true substance of the city she had left behind years ago. Julie had returned to New York after a long stay in Europe, where she had pursued her passion for architecture, immersing herself in the world of gravestone, glass, and design. Now she was here a freshman to the world of high tech, attending this conference to explore implicit opportunity for her rookie career. The stage in the room, bathed in a soft limelight gleam, was adorned with a sleek minimalist background a stark discrepancy to the intric