—Erin Hanson

"All ready, Jules?" I asked while adjusting the purse on my shoulder, and looking back inside the empty hospital room one last time.

"I'm ready." His silky voice rang strong, loud, and clear. For the first time since September, I saw Julian wearing something other than a thin, scratchy hospital gown—which made the plain, gray sweatsuit and Batman cap all the more alluring.

It was November 7, and we were finally going home—home, at the time, being Julian's modern, luxury apartment in the heart of London. The doctors and Nina had been by that morning to clear Julian one final time, ask if he had any more questions, and give him a schedule for his continuing dialysis sessions.

"Okay, Mr. Miles." Nina smiled. "I know I've told you twice before, but I'll tell you once more: take care of yourself. Limit your sodium. Absolutely no alcohol. No boxing for the time being, and safely limit your physical activity. Your kidneys are especially prone to injury now. Your prescriptions will be slowly weaned off."

"Right, thanks." Julian nodded in exasperation at being told the same things. He almost rolled his eyes at Nina, but saw me watching him and caught himself. It made me laugh under my breath.

Once Julian had given the room a final once over, I led the way down the winding, white, hospital hallway, following the light of day, which peeked in through freshly polished glass.

"Are you nervous?" I asked, as we waited by the hospital doors for Tommy's red car to pull up.

"Not about going home, no." It was apparent that he was restless. Julian shuffled around, kicking his feet, unable to stay still.

"About what, then?" I rubbed his back over his soft, gray sweatshirt.

"Well, I've been thinking a lot, you know?" Julian's edginess was making me uneasy. "I just don't want you to be angry with me over it."

"Why would I be angry?" I racked my brain, searching for possibilities.

"Maybe not angry," he corrected himself. "Maybe just disappointed or something."

"You won't disappoint me. What is it?" I rested my head on his arm, in hopes of calming him. Julian was still quite thin, but enough weight had returned to his frame to hint at his muscles rebuilding. He looked, and felt, so much stronger than he had been in September.

"I don't know if I want to be in the band anymore," Julian whispered into my ear, as if somebody might have heard him, even though we were completely alone by the glass doors.

"What do you mean?" I looked up into his squinted, brown eyes.

"I can't be around Devon. It's going to trigger me and I don't want to relapse." Julian ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I can't relapse. Ever. Not after all of this. Not after I've finally got you back. I don't even want the temptation there for a second."

"I'll go with you on tour. Anywhere," I offered the compromise. "I don't want you around Devon either, but I also don't want you to give up the band. I know how much it means to you."

"No, Brooke." He shook his head while staring down at the floor. "I don't love it like I used to. I mean, I love playing guitar, and I always will. That's not going to change."

I watched as Julian fidgeted his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. "But not the touring. Not constantly being on the move. Not the extra precautions and security. Not the press. Not the tensions in the band. Not being away from you for any length of time. I'm just so unhappy with it all."

"Well, okay, Jules. We have plenty of time to think about it, right?" I tried to calm him down. He was worrying senselessly. "There's no new tour planned yet, anyway."

"But I'm bound to the contract for another year." He looked me dead in the face. "Management can do whatever the hell they want. They own me for another year. I have to be available at their every damn whim."

"Then we'll find a way out of it," I promised him. "We'll go see as many lawyers as we need to, and do whatever we have to do. And if you need to buy your way out of the contract, so be it. Nothing is more important than your health and happiness."

"I just want to be able to support us." He blinked hard. "That cash won't last forever, especially if I have to buy out."

"I never expected you to carry us completely, Jules." I wrapped my arms around his neck, with his eyes still closed. "We're a team. When the time comes, we'll figure it out. But just know, I'm not going to let you hurt yourself ever again. I promise you that."

"You're the only one I trust in this world, Brooke." Julian's lips lingered an inch from mine. "I trust you with my life."

"And I trust you with mine." I kissed his soft lips that were full of color and life again. While Julian was at his sickest, the physical temptations were never there, but now that he'd gotten so much healthier, I suddenly wanted another taste of his mouth.

...

"Just a few more things," I promised, as Julian trailed behind me at the supermarket. Tommy was kind enough to take a detour and let me buy some staple food items at the store, since I figured Julian would need them. At the very least, he needed fresh produce. Jules hadn't been home in so long.

Nina recommended cranberries, so that was the first food item I grabbed. He grimaced at the package as I held it, then added a jar of Marmite to the cart. I checked the sodium content, and was about to put the jar back on the shelf, but Julian said it was for me to try. The way he smiled as he said it, made me a little bit nervous.

"We're going to have a month's worth." Julian chuckled. He hadn't complained, even once, about my full cart.

I had asked Julian and Tommy to stay in the car while I ran inside, but Julian refused to be away from me for even twenty minutes. Tommy, on the other hand, took pleasure in reclining in his car seat for a short nap.

Into the shopping cart, or as Julian proudly corrected me, trolley, I threw various meats, vegetables, fruits, and pantry items. By the end of the quick stroll through the aisles, it looked like we were stocking up for the apocalypse.

Finally, we made it through the line. I thought I heard Julian playfully muttering something next to me, that sort of sounded like "we actually know how to queue."

"Have enough, do ya?" The young, male cashier joked as he scanned each item. "Hope you've not forgotten anything."

"Just scan the food, twit," Julian mumbled, his tone clipped.

"Have I miffed ya?" the cashier asked. "Sorry. Meant no harm."

"What was that all about?" I whispered the question into Julian's ear as the last of the groceries were bagged. "Withdrawal agitation still?"

"No." He smirked. "Just me being an asshole."

...

As soon as all of the groceries were neatly put away at Julian's apartment, and the rotten foods were tossed from the fridge, I got started on making dinner—a chicken and dumplings casserole with Greek salads. While the bubbling casserole cooked away in the oven, Julian was walking around, trying to clean.

"I'm sorry it's such a damn mess," he said, as he carried a half-full garbage bag around the kitchen. "Clearly, I wasn't expecting company."

"I don't mind." My smile assured him. "I'll help you."

"You've helped too much already." Julian sighed, but didn't argue when I took the bag from his hands and led him over to the couch to sit.

"Why am I sitting whilst you're tidying my flat?" He raised one thick eyebrow at me.

I handed Julian the remote control to the television. "Because you're tired, on medication, and Nina said to limit strenuous physical activity."

Julian pursed his lips and set the remote control down on the arm of the couch, without turning the television on. "I suppose that's all true."

"But?" I knew there was a but. There always was with Julian.

"Well, I was thinking." He stood from the couch, and came up behind me as I threw empty wrappers from the floor into the garbage bag. "Maybe some strenuous physical activity is good."

He turned me around, gripped my biceps softly, and stared into my eyes, unmoving. I silently gazed back, and felt my body warming as he peered into me.

"It can wait," Julian whispered into my ear as he took the garbage bag from my hand, gently set it down on the floor, and started kissing along my curved neck.

"Jules." I tried to protest but quickly felt myself faltering under the fullness of his lips on my skin. "We can't."

"Why can't we?" he asked between kisses.

"What if you're not ready?" I had no idea about the possible medical complications, but Nina never mentioned this as something to specifically avoid.

"Trust me." Julian gently pulled my hips into his. "I'm ready."

"I don't want you to get hurt somehow." I was melting fast, and the butterflies in my stomach coming to life were not helping my ability to object.

"Stop worrying, Brooke." Julian softly sighed the words, under his breath. With his eyes closed, he pressed his lips to mine.

"Are you sure?" I asked again, between shallow breaths, as a last ditch effort to refuse him. As if I ever really could have.

"I love you." He playfully ignored my worrying and trailed a thumb along my cheek, then down to my bottom lip, pulling it outward to expose my gums. "I love how red I make your skin. Like I'm making you glow from the inside."

"That's how it feels," I whispered. "And I love you more."

"I doubt that." He kissed me passionately.

With his arms wrapped around my body, Julian tried to pick me up off the floor, but he was still too weak and had to set me back down. "Fuck. Fuck!"

"It's okay." I ran my fingers through his long, golden-brown hair, gently pulling at the roots. "Don't let it ruin this. I love you so much."

My words soothed him somehow, as Julian pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the living room floor. I followed his action, and leaned into his neck, kissing the vein on display there. Julian moaned softly.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you." He was almost breathless. "It's been so long."

I didn't mean to ask. The words seemed to have a mind of their own. "Didn't you, you know, on tour?"

"What?" he asked.

The familiar, blazing sensation of his rough fingers trailed my sides, but this time, it didn't tickle at all.

"When I called Devon's phone..." I felt myself freezing up at the memory. "He said you were busy. I heard girls in the background..."

"They were for him, not me." Julian looked right into my eyes, to prove he was telling me the truth. "It's only ever been you."

"But you were gone for so long. We weren't talking." It made no sense for him to stay faithful.

"I'm not saying opportunities weren't there." He kissed my forehead. "I'm just saying, I never wanted anyone except you."

"It's okay, if you did." I tried to rationalize it in my mind. "I mean, I wouldn't be upset with you. We weren't dating."

He took in a deep, timid breath.

"Brooke, you're the only woman I've ever been with." Julian's beautiful eyes were glossy as he gazed into mine.

"The only one?" It couldn't have been true. That meant...

"The first time we..." He trailed off, deep in thought. "Our first time, was my first time."

My pounding heart. It had to have been audible. As I absorbed his words, it felt like my bottom lip was quivering.

"Your first?" I whispered.

"My first," Julian promised. "My last."

I could have cried from the relief.

"There are no other girls?" I had to hear it one more time to be sure.

It had all been a misunderstanding. All this time. All my jealousy. All my worrying...

"No other girls." Julian abated me, with the most beautiful lopsided smile in the world. "There's no one else for me."

"No one else," I repeated, with water collecting at the corners of my eyes.

"Just you," he whispered. "Only you. Always you."

It made no sense, and made perfect sense, all at once. Just like us.

More passionately than I ever had before, I kissed Julian's smiling lips. Although he was taken aback by the direness of my touch, he quickly recovered and tightly wrapped his arms around me. They weren't quite as strong as they had been before, but his arms were still more than powerful enough to keep me from ever wanting to escape his torrid skin.

Tenderly, my lips molded around his. Julian reciprocated my feverish urgency by sighing my name. The way his mouth curled in cadence made my knees nearly buckle beneath me. Julian's lips were parted, with his head falling back, so I took his bottom lip into my mouth and nibbled on the fullness of his skin. Carefully, he maneuvered our bodies across the floor, leading us both toward his bedroom—our bedroom, for the time being.

Ours. We were here. We were together. The only tides separating us, were the ones being dried from our eyes.

Julian and I... we weren't even two separate waves anymore. We had already met, collided, and absorbed into each other. We had taken on the same form and motion. We were the same ripple of movement.

As our bodies joined—connecting, becoming one and the same—we rid ourselves of every insecurity still lingering on our shoulders. In crashing pounds, every doubt that had weighed heavily on our minds began to slough off our skin. If it hadn't been for the roaring, rolling thunder outside our window, I was sure that we could have heard the uncertainties themselves clattering to the ground.

...

"I'm sorry it's a little burnt," I said of the casserole, once we finally got around to eating dinner. It was more than a little burnt, actually, but still edible.

"It tastes amazing now, knowing why it's burnt." Julian tried to give me an evil grin, but it ended up just looking jaunty.

"You're feeling more and more like yourself, I see," I noted between small bites of the dry chicken.

"What can I say? You provide excellent therapy for recovery." He winked, and before I could blush, he darted from the kitchen table.

"Where are you going?" I called after him.

"One second, love." Julian's choice of diction silenced me, and within moments, the bright sounds of flamenco guitar were filling every inch of Julian's apartment.

"My Brooke, Paco de Lucía, and a deliciously burnt chicken casserole." Julian's arms were held out proudly when he returned to the table, as if he'd just made an incredible discovery. "Doesn't get any better, does it?"

I smiled. A real smile.

"When are you going to cut your hair?" I joked with him, as both of my elbows rested on the edge of his table.

"When are you going to marry me?" Julian silenced me with his joking retort.

"You know what I'd like to see again?" he asked, before I could comment on anything else.

"Hmm?"

"You, dancing like you did at Ceviche." Julian finished the last of his plate, and I smiled to myself at the return of his appetite.

"The flamenco dance?" I tried to mentally recall the motions, but it felt blurry in my memory. "I've forgotten how."

"Luckily, I've got a photographic memory, my darling." Julian held his hand out for me to stand with him. The lively music was all around us, creating the perfect atmosphere.

"I think you bent your knees a little." He touched the backs of my knees gently, while keeping one hand on the small of my back. "Like that."

"And you put one arm in the air, like this." He spoke slowly, as rain pelted the windows behind us.

With every brush of his fingertips, sparks. His blazing touch sent currents shooting through me.

"Then, you tapped your heels to the floor." Julian watched intently as I tried to emulate the dance from so long ago.

For him, I tried.

"I forgot how," I admitted softly when I couldn't quite get the dance perfected.

Instead of words, exotic and intricate sounds of guitar filled the small space between us. He studied me diligently, reading between the lines. Julian tilted my chin up towards him, and leaned in to kiss me unhurriedly. He drew out every moment, keeping the pace so slow that I could do little more than to focus on inhaling his leathery, spicy scent.

Julian's breathing was heavy and irregular as he gently lay us both down on his cold kitchen floor. The contrast felt amazing to my fiery skin. Instinctively, my legs intertwined with his as Julian ruffled my long, dark hair between his rough fingers.

"Again?" I teased, while grinning at his eagerness.

"When you've been in the desert as long as I have..." Julian kissed the sweet spot on my warm neck. "You tend to want another taste of water."

...

We remained on the kitchen floor, still lying in each other's arms, long after the record finished. The rhythmic sounds of the rainstorm outside were a soothing replacement for the music.

"Do you think I'm going to be okay now?" Julian spoke after a long bout of silence.

"Yes, I really do," I said. "I know you'll be okay."

The fact that he was worried about his well-being told me that Julian wanted to survive, that he wanted to continue to fight, and nothing could have been better than that reassurance.

"What if I get the urge to use again?" he asked solemnly.

"I won't let you," I said. "I promise."

Julian tightened his arm around my shoulders. I nuzzled into his chest.

"Do you feel the itch now?" I asked.

"No," Julian promised me.

"Do you have any, you know, leftover here?" I just needed to make sure.

"No." He kissed my scrunched forehead.

"I believe in you, Jules," I assured him. "You're so strong, and you never give yourself enough credit."

My cheek burned from the warmth of his skin.

"I feel so ashamed." Julian's voice cracked, and he gulped hard. "I feel dirty. I feel so guilty over everything I've put you through. Just look at what I've done to you. Look at what I've done to myself."

More words seemed to be on the tip of his tongue. I patiently, and quietly, awaited them.

"It's not even getting over the physical addiction that's the problem," Julian said. "It's changing my thought process. It's cleansing my soul. It's building a sense of worth within myself. I don't know how I can begin to move past this."

"It's all in the past, Jules." I gripped his skin tighter. "I'm not saying to forget about all of this, because I will never have you relive it, but you can't dwell on it either. You survived something almost unsurvivable. We are going to be okay, I promise you. We just need to learn to talk things out, not shut ourselves down."

Words. What we needed, were always more words.

"I know, Brooke." He couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and neither could I. "I'm trying. I promise, I'm trying. I want to learn how. I want to be better for you."

"I know somebody that would love to help, with everything." Maybe my step dad Adam's expertise could have come in handy after all.

"Okay. Whatever you want." He swiped at his wet eyes, while the tears slowed. "I'd do anything for you."

"So would I, Jules," I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being. "So would I."