Chapter Ten
I didn't answer the unknown number. Not because I was brave, or smart, or suddenly good at boundaries, but because Julian was sitting right in front of me, watching my face with that quiet focus that meant he already knew something was off.
"You're doing that thing," he said.
"What thing?"
"The one where you stop blinking and pretend you're fine."
"I blink," I said, blinking deliberately. "See."
He didn't smile. "Who texted you?"
I hesitated, which was apparently an answer on its own.
"Someone," I said. "I don't know who."
"That's comforting," he replied dryly.
I turned the phone face-down on the table, then immediately regretted it. The screen vibrated against the wood like it was impatient.
Julian's eyes dropped to it. "Do you want me to step out?"
"No," I said too quickly. "I mean, no. It's probably nothing."
"Probably," he repeated. "You're terrible at saying that word convincingly."
I sighed and picked the phone back up, half-expecting another message to appear the second I unlocked it.
Nothing.
I exhaled. "See? Nothing."
Julian leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Okay, but you don't look like someone who just got nothing."
"I look like someone who didn't expect today to get complicated."
He tilted his head. "When has it not been?"
I laughed despite myself. "Fair."
We sat there a moment longer, both pretending the air hadn't changed. I stirred my drink even though there was nothing left to stir.
"So," Julian said, casual again, like he was offering me a way out. "Do you want to tell me, or do you want to change the subject aggressively?"
"Those are my only options?"
"Historically, yes."
I smiled. Then my phone buzzed again.
This time, I didn't have time to flip it over.
Unknown number: You're sitting with him right now.
My breath caught.
Julian noticed immediately. "What did it say?"
I stared at the screen, then at him. "They know where I am."
His expression changed. Not alarmed. Focused.
"Okay," he said slowly. "That's not nothing."
"I didn't post anything," I said. "Hannah knows I was meeting you, but she wouldn't do this. She'd call and dramatically announce herself first."
Julian almost smiled. Almost.
"Read it again," he said.
I did.
You're sitting with him right now.
No punctuation. No explanation. Just certainty.
"Do you want me to answer?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I want to know how they know."
He leaned back, scanning the room casually, like this was a game he'd played before. "Anyone watching you?"
"No."
"Anyone who shouldn't care but clearly does?"
I froze.
Julian looked at me. "That pause was interesting."
"I don't have enemies," I said.
"I didn't say enemies."
The phone buzzed again.
Unknown number: He's not as harmless as you think.
My stomach dropped.
Julian watched my face carefully. "That one wasn't about coffee."
I swallowed. "They're talking about you."
He didn't react the way I expected. No defensiveness. No jokes. Just stillness.
"Okay," he said quietly. "Now I care."
"I don't believe them," I said immediately, even though they hadn't actually said anything specific.
"That was fast," he replied. "You didn't even ask who they are."
"I don't need to."
"Why?"
Because I trust you sat at the edge of my tongue, loud and dangerous.
Instead, I said, "Because anonymous warnings are dramatic."
He smiled faintly. "That sounds like you trying to convince yourself."
I hated that he could see me so clearly.
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown number: Ask him why he stopped calling her.
Julian's jaw tightened before he could stop it.
I looked up slowly. "Her?"
He met my eyes. "That's vague."
"You don't get to be vague," I said. "Not right now."
He leaned back, ran a hand through his hair, then exhaled. "Okay. Whoever this is knows things they shouldn't."
"Do you know who she is?"
"Yes," he said. "And no, it's not what you're imagining."
"That doesn't help."
"I know," he said. "But if you let this stranger control the conversation, we're already losing."
I stared at my phone. My thumb hovered over the screen.
Julian reached across the table, stopping my hand gently. "If you answer, answer because you want answers. Not because they scared you."
I looked at him. Really looked.
"Promise me," I said, "that if I ask you something, you won't deflect."
He nodded. "I promise."
I typed.
Me: Who are you?
The reply came instantly.
Unknown number: Someone who knows what happens when you trust him.
Julian watched me read it.
"Well," he said quietly, "this just stopped being about coffee."
Another message followed.
Unknown number: Ask him about the night he didn't tell you about.
My chest tightened.
I looked up at Julian, heart pounding, the café fading into noise and movement and people who had no idea my day had just cracked open.
"What night?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away. And that silence told me more than the messages ever could.