Page 21 of I Knew You
“I can hear it in your voice,” he said firmly. “You’re still crushing on her, aren’t you? You know how ridiculous that is,right? You’re in love with the idea of her, not her. Neither one of us knows Jules anymore.”
“She doesn’t know us, either,” I grumbled, not wanting to refute him. “She doesn’t know how much we’ve changed.”
“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick,” Whit replied. “I know she meant a lot to you way back when. I know you still carry a torch for her, and that’s why you’ve been jacking off for ten years instead of finding yourself a nice person to settle down with. But if you’re gonna approach her once she’s back in Mill Creek, you need to come from a ‘let me help you without expectation’ angle, not a ‘get to know you and let me bone you’ place. You get what I’m saying?”
“So she’s single?” I asked, knowing it would inflame him.
“Don’t even think about it, Bram.”
I chuckled, but Whit was right. I could help her if she’d let me, but anything more could never happen. I wasn’t the Bram of the past. But even at thirty-four, I lived under the weight of it, in a town that half hated me, struggling to do what I could to mend my reputation and be a good man. Regardless, Julianna would always need and deserve more than I could give.
“Noted. Is Grams’ house ready to go?”
“It should be fine. She said something about driving a U-Haul to Mill Creek, so she must be bringing a lot of stuff.”
“Oh, okay,” I stumbled, thinking about how to phrase what I needed to ask. “Look, if you want me to?—”
“Yeah, she’s gonna need your help,” Whit cut in. “She’ll be alone, and with all that stuff with her back, we can’t take chances. I’d be grateful if you could go over and give her a hand.”
“Say less,” I said, and I couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Damn it. Are you smiling?” Whit chided, knowing instinctively how I was responding, and I grinned even bigger. “I mean it, Bram, don’t fuck with her. Or fuck her or doanythingbut move boxes, got it?”
“Calm down,” I said, standing. Lakey groaned at my movement. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman. I want her to be comfortable. And safe. Just like you do, I’m sure.”
“Damn straight.” He cleared his throat, which meant he would get serious, and I braced for it. “You know, I still feel like a terrible brother for leaving her the night of the party.” I froze, my heart in my throat. “She’d have been with me if I’d stayed away from Amber. Then she wouldn’t have wrecked your truck and broken her back. If I’d?—”
He still didn’t know Julianna and I had been together the night of the wreck. The reality of what occurred was much worse than Whit leaving her alone to get off with an old fling.
“Can’t look at it that way. Regrets don’t change a thing. You can only move forward. You can show her you care. And I will show her a thing or two about how much I care.” I couldn’t resist chuckling and hung up the phone on his string of expletives.
I would respect Whit and maintain proper interactions with Julianna. But I would never not think about her in other terms. And I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t find appropriate, friendly ways to tell her how much I cared, even if romance between us was impossible.
Chapter Four
Julianna |September 29, 2024
Ipaid to break my lease at the townhouse and moved out. I no longer had the money for such an expensive place, and although it was a hard pill to swallow, I needed to come to terms with my circumstances.
I had hope. After recovering from surgery in Mill Creek, I would return to Charlotte, find a new place to live, and start a new job in social media marketing. I wove determination into my every thought for this plan.
I’d saved some money over the years, so I wasn’t destitute. I even slipped Kallie a hundred-dollar bill to help me pack, although I found it in my purse at a gas station after I was on the road with the U-Haul. I left my Subaru with Brandon, who would take care of selling it for me. It had a slim chance of making it on any road trip. I resolved to rent a car in Mill Creek until I found a replacement I could afford. Focusing on what Icould control, like the car and the townhouse, distracted me from the even scarier risk of surgery.
The drive to Mill Creek went smoothly, even in a moving truck that felt every little bump in the road. As landmarks began to become familiar, my nervous anticipation grew. Seeing the mountain town was like coming home and dying inside at the same time.
Nearly fifteen years had changed the landscape of the small town. The newness included a beautiful brick library, an Applebee’s, and a new apartment complex. But so much had been taken away, like some old, twentieth-century houses that used to line Main Street downtown. Their lots were razed to make way for paved parking, banks, and small strip malls. No longer did anyone sell papers by the fountain at the town square. There were new lamp posts up and down the streets and what looked like a new sidewalk. I recognized no faces I saw along the way.
Not much had changed in my childhood neighborhood. I took the familiar turns and noted the old hangouts of my youth, places my friends and I had frequented, like the tiny park with the snow cone stand. Memories flooded me, warm and inviting.
Yet when I pulled into the short street that ended at Gram’s house, I gasped, stopping the giant truck in the middle of the road.
The 1970s-style ranch house with dark brick had vanished. A highly updated brick structure was in its place. There was now a small porch, window boxes, a flagstone walkway, and a garage in the space that used to be a carport. The facade had been painted a crisp white, and the old burgundy shutters had been replaced with updated black ones. It was beautiful and modern, yet devastatingly foreign. It was as if the old had never existed.
A honk from a car behind me spurred me to move the truckinto the driveway. I parked and sat for a moment, gathering my will to go inside.
When I walked through the threshold, the inside was completely different. The walls had been torn down, transforming the main space into a single, large dining room, kitchen, and family room. The sunroom off the dining room, which had once served as Bram’s makeshift bedroom, had been drywalled and converted into an office and library combo. All of the brown oak paneling throughout the house was removed, and smooth, off-white walls took their place. Features like LED lights and built-in luxury appliances adorned each space. It was excessive for the low to middle-class neighborhood. I did not doubt that Whit had made these decisions himself, considering the income level to which he was now accustomed.
In no way did it feel like the same place. The design and decor were so much colder than when Grams owned the space. I wanted a warm hug from the house, but all I felt was emptiness.
