Her words stun me, especially after our earlier conversation, and I feel my hands instinctively tighten around Julian’s. His gaze bores into mine, reassuring me, because he knows without the exact words just how muddled up I can sometimes feel inside. But I trust him. Holding his gaze, breathing in and out, I give my fears and anxieties to the man I love, because I trust him to take care of me when I need it most. And like all those years ago, when we were navigating our initial feelings, I trust us. I trust what we have, what we’ve built, and what we’ve promised. Implicitly.
