Julia turned back to Michael. "What is it? What do you want to tell me?"
He took a moment, then said, "I bought us a house, Julia—near the Marina. It has two bedrooms and a garden. You're going to love it."
His words came out in a rush. She blinked, sure she hadn't heard him correctly. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"
"I think you heard me."
"I don't think I could have," she said with a definite shake of her head. "You better say it again."
"All right." His chin lifted and his shoulders went back as he said, "I bought us a house, Julia, a place for us to raise our children and grow old together. It's what you've always wanted. It's your wedding present."
Stunned by his words, she didn't know what to say, how to react. It was all too much. The day had been one bad surprise after another.
"Say something," Michael instructed.
"What should I say? I can't believe it. You bought us a house?"
Michael's brown eyes lit up with eagerness as he grabbed her shoulders. "It's great, Julia. It's a fixer-upper, which is the only way I could afford to buy in that neighborhood. There's a school nearby, about three blocks away. You'll be able to walk with the kids. And the recreation center is close by. You can take your yoga classes there, and I can play in the basketball leagues. It's the perfect place for us to start our life together."
"I already go somewhere for yoga," she said, not sure why it seemed important to tell him that in the face of everything else he'd said.
"So maybe you'll change your mind, and switch to the rec center. I can't wait to show you the house. I wanted it to be completely done before I did. But this is better. You can help me fix it up the way you want it."
"Does it matter what I want?" she asked.
"Of course it does," he replied, the light dimming in his eyes. "I love you. I want you to be happy."
"Then why didn't you tell me about the house? Why didn't you show it to me before you bought it? Don't you think we should be making these decisions together? A house is a huge purchase."
"I'm the man. I want to provide for you and our children. It's the way I was raised."
"First of all, we don't have children yet. You make it sound like they're already here." And that little fact had drawn goose bumps down her arms. "Second of all, I want kids, but not yet, not really soon."
"You're almost thirty. How long do you want to wait?"
"I don't know—until I'm ready. My God, Michael! You bought us a house without telling me. Don't you think that's crazy? How did you even afford it?"
"I've been saving for years. I've always wanted a place of my own, real estate, my land, my house, something I can put my mark on. And no, I don't think that's crazy. I think it's smart. I think that kind of foresight makes me a good man."
"Except you just said 'my,' like, three times. What happened to 'our'? What happened to us making decisions together as partners?"
"And how the hell would I get you to make such a decision? You can't even focus on our wedding, much less the rest of our life," he snapped back.
"That's not an excuse for leaving me out of the loop. Not on something this big."
"I thought you'd be happy that I took care of it for you."
"Happy? How could I be happy? You didn't consider my feelings."
"And you've been considering mine? I've asked you to give up this search a half dozen times now, and your answer has been hell, no. You don't care what I think at all. And you're not even giving this house a chance. You might love it."
"It's not the house. It's the fact that you bought it without telling me, that you're planning our lives without my input. That's not right, Michael." She knew the moment of truth had finally come. She had to face their relationship head-on. "We're not right."
"Just stop there—"
"No." She shrugged out of his hold. "I can't stop. I have to tell you how I feel."
"It's that guy, Alex, isn't it?" he demanded furiously. "He's the reason you're pulling away from me. You're attracted to him, aren't you?"
"This isn't about him," she said, sidestepping the issue of attraction. "It's about you and me. Us. It's my fault, Michael. I let things go on for too long. And I'm sorry about that."
He shook his head. "Don't."
"You're one of the best men I've ever known. The way you took care of me and Liz during Mom's illness was unbelievably kind and generous. But I've known for a while now that you and I…that we're not right for each other."
"We're perfect for each other," he said desperately. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's true. Because you don't see me the way I am. I never said I wanted a house. I never said I wanted kids in the next five years. You just assumed I did. And I should have corrected you a long time ago."
"I know you want kids."
"But I want other things first," she said passionately. "I'm beginning to realize how narrow my life has been. Mom was so strict about things I could do or not do, who I could see, where I could go, and I let her control me. And I started letting you do the same thing."
"I love you," he said with genuine, heartbreaking sincerity.
"I love you, too," she whispered, "but not the way a woman loves a man she's going to marry." She knew she was hurting him, and she felt horrible. She'd never wanted to bring him pain.
"You're just confused because of your past and this mystery you're chasing," he said, not willing to let go of his dream. "You'll feel differently when it's over, when that guy is out of your life."
"I won't. It's true I'm confused. But the one thing I've come to realize in the past few days is that I want to live my life to the fullest. I don't want to have regrets. I don't want to stop myself from asking questions or stating my opinion because I'm afraid the person I'm talking to will get hurt. I want to be free, Michael. I want to travel. I want to work on my music, on my goals. And I don't want to cheat myself or you. That's what I'd be doing if I married you."
"You're making a mistake," he said flatly. "A big one this time. Has he offered to travel with you? To help you with your music? To show you the world?"
She shook her head. "Alex hasn't done any of those things."
"But if he asked you to go with him, you'd go."
"It's not about him," she said, refusing to let herself even consider that question.
"You can protest all you want, but I think you're lying." He paused, his jaw tight, his mouth set in a hard line. "I guess it's over then."
She glanced down at her left hand and slowly pulled off the engagement ring he'd given her almost a year ago. She handed it to him. "You're a great guy, Michael. I hope you find someone who really deserves you."
"Yeah, yeah, nice guys always finish last," he said bitterly. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Julia." He paused. "If you change your mind, I might still be around. Or I might not. You never know."
Julia blew out a sigh as Michael left the apartment. She felt drained of emotion but also relieved that she'd finally broken it off. She glanced down at the tan line on her third finger and knew she'd done the right thing. That ring had been feeling heavier and heavier the last few days.
"What happened?" Liz asked, returning to the room. "I heard yelling."
"We broke up," Julia said, steeling herself for more criticism from Liz, but for once her younger sister was silent. "Did you know about the house?"
Liz gave a sheepish nod. "Michael wanted it to be a surprise. I've been helping him fix it up. That's what I was sewing—curtains." She picked up the fabric on the floor and set it on the table.
"You should have told me, warned me."
"It wasn't my place. You're always telling me to stay out of your relationship, so I stayed out of it."
"You've been helping him fix up the house. How is that staying out of it?"
"I didn't tell him what to do. I just painted and scraped wallpaper. I knew you were going to be pissed."
"Of course I'm angry. What woman would want her
fiancé to buy a house without her input?"
"A woman who saw it as a romantic, loving gesture," Liz suggested. "Didn't it please you at all to know that this man wanted to take care of you, protect you, make your life easier?"
Liz's words made Julia feel foolish and a little guilty. But she had to remind herself that she and Liz were very different women when it came to men and relationships. "It made me feel as if Michael had no regard for my opinion or my feelings," she said. "Maybe to some women it would have been a romantic gesture. That just proves we weren't right for each other."
"You should reconsider, Julia. See the house at least. You might love it. And perhaps if you talk things through, you'll be able to compromise, find a way to work things out. Unless you don't want to work things out? Did you break up with him because of the house—or because of something or someone else?"
Julia knew it would be smarter not to answer Liz's question, but she had the sudden reckless urge to confide in someone, and the words came out before she could stop them. "I kissed Alex last night."
Liz's eyes widened. "So that's it? You dumped an incredible man because you're attracted to a sexy bad-boy photographer? Is Alex really going to be in your life? Doesn't he spend most of the year traveling around the world?"
"I didn't dump Michael for Alex. He was just a small part of it, but a part I couldn't ignore. If I were really in love with Michael, I wouldn't have been so attracted to Alex. How could I marry one man knowing I had feelings for someone else? Michael is an incredible man, but he's not the man for me. And I should have figured that out a long time ago. But everyone loved him so much. I thought I should love him, too."
Liz stared at her for a moment, then shook her head in bewilderment. "You're right about one thing, Julia. Michael is an incredible man. I hope you won't regret this decision."
"I won't," Julia said, praying she was right about that. She glanced around the room, realizing she had other problems to address. "This place is really a mess. I can't believe how many things are broken." She felt sad and angry at the same time. "We have to find out who did this."
"It appears we have a lot to find out. We can't stay here," Liz added. "The lock is broken. My pullout couch is destroyed, and your bed isn't much better. Besides, the police said whoever did this might be back. So what do we do? Go to Dad's place? Aunt Lucia's?"
Julia suddenly realized that she couldn't go to any of those places, not when she might be bringing danger in her wake. "You go," she said. "I don't want to make anyone else a target. It's probably better if I stay away from the family right now."
"You might be right," Liz said with a sigh. "You're going to Alex's, aren't you?"
"He's already involved."
"Yeah, sure. I get it. Call me on my cell if you need me, and Julia... be careful. Not just with this search—with your heart. I may not know as much about life or men as you do, but even I recognize a heartbreaker when I see one, and Alex has that written all over him."
Chapter Thirteen
Alex opened the door to Julia a little before six o'clock on Tuesday evening. He hadn't been sure she'd come to him. She might have gone home with Michael. Her fiancé had certainly made it clear that he wanted to take care of Julia and her sister. But here she was, wearing black pants, a light blue button-down blouse, and a short, trim black jacket. Her blond hair was done up in a ponytail, long hoop earrings dangling from her ears. She was pretty as a picture, he thought, then grimaced, reminded that their relationship had begun with a picture.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
He stepped back and waved her inside. "Where's your fiancé?"
"Probably at his new house—the house he bought for us without asking me," she said, a decided edge to her voice.
Alex let out a low whistle at that piece of information. There was a lot he didn't understand about women, but he did know that making a big purchase without talking to your soon-to-be wife was a huge mistake.
Julia paced around his living room in anger and frustration, but then she'd had a hell of a day—hell of a week, in fact.
"I couldn't believe it, Alex. Michael had our whole life mapped out without any input from me. He simply assumed we wanted the same things."
"Did you ever tell him differently? Most men aren't mind readers."
"You're taking his side?" she asked in surprise and obviously still in a fighting mood.
He put up a hand in defense. "Hey, I don't even know him. I'm just saying that maybe he assumed certain things because you didn't tell him he was wrong."
She put her hands on her hips and sent him an irritated look. "I have a job that I love, and I've told him about it numerous times. But Michael thought I would quit my job, stay home, and have children immediately."
Alex winced. "Ouch."
"And he asked me to quit searching for my past. In fact, he insisted. I said I couldn't. I explained that it's out of my hands now. My God, someone just trashed my apartment. I can't just disappear, even if I wanted to. So I told him that..." She paused, drawing in a long breath.
Damn. Alex had a feeling he didn't want to hear what she was about to say next. As much as he thought Julia needed to break off her engagement, he also liked the fact that there was a tangible barrier between them, a real reason not to get involved. He had a feeling that was about to disappear.
Julia held up her left hand and he saw the naked third finger. "I broke up with him. I told Michael I couldn't marry him. Not because of anything that I just told you, but because I'm not in love with him. I let our relationship drift along, because it was easy, and it was nice. That was wrong. I should have come clean a long time ago. I don't know why I didn't," she added with a shake of her head. "It wasn't fair to Michael. I feel bad about that. I never meant to hurt him, but I did, and that wasn't right."
He appreciated her honesty, her self-critical words.
Julia wasn't a woman to let others take the blame when it wasn't deserved. He liked that about her. He liked a lot about her. Clearing his throat, he said, "What now?"
"Now I have a mystery to solve. That's all I can think about for the moment."
He nodded. "Someone wants something that they think you have."
"Well, that narrows it down," she said with a hint of sarcasm. She took a seat on the couch, kicking up her feet on the coffee table. "We're not getting anywhere fast. By the way, I spoke to that reporter again. She cornered me at the radio station, and get this: She said she found a woman here in the United States who worked in that orphanage and who had seen me there. She said the woman told her they were under threat of death to talk about me. What do you think about that?"
He thought for a moment. "I'm not sure I buy it. Sounds vague and a little too convenient, maybe part of Christine's plan to make you trust her."
"I never thought about that. You think she made up the woman?"
"Did she give you a name?"
"No, that was based on my being willing to work with her. Apparently Christine thinks I'm her ticket to big-time news journalism."
"She might be right. Let's see what else she comes up with. I also did a little digging." He sat down next to her. "I had another conversation with Stan." He paused, still unable to shake the feeling that Stan hadn't been completely honest with him.
"And..." Julia prodded.
"He gave me the name of a woman who worked with the theater group and who was in Moscow with us."
Her eyes sparked with interest. "Really? That's great."
"Not so great. Tanya did remember my father quite clearly and also Sarah, but she had no idea if you were there or not."
"So she couldn't say I wasn't there?"
"No. She said there were a few children with the company. She didn't know who belonged to who."
"It's still possible, then, that my mother might have taken me to Russia with her."
He nodded, knowing that Julia needed to hang on to that fact, and for the moment they had no proof that it wasn't true. "Tanya also implied t
hat my father was spying for the government," he added, "and I'm starting to believe it."
"It's difficult not to. I have the same question about my mother. Did she really go to Russia just to sew costumes?"
"Doubtful. I called a friend of mine in the State Department. I asked him to check out the key players—Brady, Stan, and your mother."
She flinched at the mention of her mother. "I guess you had to include her."
"Ryan said he'd get back to me as soon as he could." He took a breath, then continued. "I did press Stan on my father's death, on the fact that he didn't do anything to investigate it. He said he received a threat against his family if he didn't mind his own business. Apparently that was enough to make him look the other way." Alex couldn't hide the scorn in his voice. "Hell of a friend he was."
"Don't judge him too harshly. If they threatened his family, he was in a difficult spot."
"Yeah, well, he should have found a way out of the spot. I would have."
Julia gazed at him with her beautiful blue eyes, so full of emotion and concern for him that he had to fight not to put his arms around her. He clasped his hands tightly together and looked away.
She put a hand on his knee, and he stiffened.
"Are you hungry, Alex?"
The question was not the one he'd been expecting. He had to think for a moment. "I guess."
"I haven't eaten since that excuse for a breakfast we had on the plane."
He glanced back at her. "Do you want to go out?"
"Unless you're going to tell me you're a five-star chef?" she asked with a smile.
He laughed at that. "I never learned how to cook more than the basics, and I eat most of my meals on the run."
"Do you have a favorite restaurant you go to when you're in town?"
"No. Why don't you pick?"
She hesitated. "There's a new Moroccan restaurant on Union Street. It's supposed to be good, just like the real thing. Although you've probably eaten in a real restaurant in Morocco, haven't you?"
"Actually, that's one place I haven't been yet."
Her eyes sparkled. "Then it will be an adventure for both of us. Are you game?"
Summer Reads Box Set: Volume 1 Page 85
