Jumpy. That's the only word I can think of to describe Laura's behavior after that night. She kept glancing over at the empty spot where Julian supposedly sat. She was tapping her spoon on the table uncomfortably, repeatedly glancing out the window, taking long chugs of her milk but not really eating her cereal. She sighed loudly and I turned, asking, "Laura, is something wrong?" She looked up from her staring into the cereal bowl and blinked at me, almost like she had only just realized I was in the room. "Oh, um, no. Nothing." I nodded once, glancing at her with my eyes slightly narrowed, and then turned around. "Well," she said, and I turned to face her again. She looked at me with wide eyes, "Um, uh, do you... do you think... uh, he says he doesn't feel like it, but," she glanced over at the empty space, and I imagined Julian sitting there, staring back at her. I wished he was real so, for once, he could be the one looking at Laura and seeing that there was something wrong with her. Seeing what he was doing to her. Though, of course, I couldn't blame him. He wasn't real. I sighed and closed my eyes for a split second. "Do I think what, Laura?" I asked, watching her carefully. "Do you think Julian looks sick?" I rose an eyebrow at her and it took me a moment to realize she was waiting for me to look at the air next to her, to look over this non-existant person and check to see if he looked ill. I sighed and glanced at the air, moving my eyes so it looked like I was was giving him a once-over. "He seems fine to me," I said. She sighed, "I guess you're right." She glanced at him again and then rolled her eyes, "Yea, yea Julian. Shut your mouth. I just wanted a third opinion." I tried not to roll my eyes as I turned back to the kitchen, back to the stove, back to the solid object in front of me that I could trust wouldn't be mistaken for something else.
"Babe," Julian said, brushing the hair away from my face, "you don't have to worry about anything." I choked, "But..."
"I'm coming home soon, baby. I'll be with you, my love," he said, burying his face into my neck. I shook my head, "No. Stop saying that. I don't know what you're talking about." Jamie glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. Of course, if I was confused with this conversation, there was no doubt she would be even more confused. "I love you, Laura," Julian said. His voice had changed. And I recognized those words, that tone. Like I had just watched a movie and then rewinded, playing back a certain scene, hearing the dialogue again, to try and grasp what they were really saying, despite having heard the words before, in the same tones. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, turning to face him, "What are you talking about?" I asked, so confused. He took both of my hands in his and Jamie once again glanced at me. "Laura," he said, "I know you know who I am." I shook my head, "Of course I do." He shook his, "That's not what I meant. I meant you know who I really am." I furrowed my eyebrows and looked away from him, "You're Julian," I whispered. I could feel my eyes welling up. "I am Julian. Your Julian. And I'm coming home to you." I pulled my hands away, tears trickling down my cheeks. "Please," I whispered, my voice low, "don't do this." Jamie turned to face me now, watching us like she wasn't interrupting something at all. She looked sort of... angry. "Don't do what?" she asked, "What is... what is he doing? What'd he say?" I looked at her, wondering why she had heard my murmur but not Julian's clear-spoken words. Why it seemed that she always heard my conversations with Julian like she was listening to me talking on the phone. She only heard my side of the story. "Nothing," I whispered. And then Julian startled me. He cleared his throat and stood up. "Jamie," he said, his voice strong and clear. I stared at him with wide eyes. He never addressed Jamie directly. Never addressed anyone directly, except me. I glanced at Jamie to see her reaction, but she was still staring at me, her eyes narrowed. I rose my eyebrows but then looked back up at Julian as he said, "Protect her, please, until I'm home." I looked at Jamie, and she stepped back, away from me, and slammed into the stove. "What..." she said, looking around the room, "who said that?" I stared at her, "What are you talking about?" I asked, confused. "Protect her 'til I come home, or whatever," she said, shaking her head, "who said that?" She looked into the living room, "Was that Jackson?" I rose an eyebrow, "Um, no," I said, and she looked back to me, "that was Julian." She widened her eyes and stumbled into the oven again. "What? No. No, that wasn't." She shook her head, laughing slightly at this like it was crazy, "No it wasn't. That wasn't... wasn't... um, who said that?" she asked again, looking around. "That was me," Julian said, tilting his head at her. She looked around, ignoring him. She didn't look like she had even heard him. She shook her head, "Whatever." She looked back at me, shook her head again, and then turned back to the oven. I glanced at Julian, and he shrugged.
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