You Were Never Just My Boss

Chapter 23

Bea’s POV

The sky was bruised with color—deep blue swallowing orange as the last of the sun slipped behind buildings. I sat on the rooftop of my apartment, knees tucked to my chest, Julian’s jacket draped over my shoulders like a memory I wasn’t ready to shake off. The Verve & Co. offer glared up from my phone, still unread. I didn’t need to open it again. I knew what it said. Power. Prestige. Twice the pay. No Julian.

He sat a few feet away, hands clasped, eyes on the skyline. Neither of us had spoken in minutes. The city below us buzzed with life, but up here, everything felt frozen. “You should take it,” Julian said finally, voice tight and controlled. “It’s what you deserve.”

I didn’t respond right away. I stared at the screen in my lap like it held answers, like it might tell me what to do with the man sitting beside me. “Why aren’t you fighting for me?” My voice cracked. “You always act like you care just enough to keep me close. But never enough to choose me.”

He turned to me, the sharp angles of his face softened by the fading light. “I’m tired of making you feel like you’re not worth choosing,” he said quietly. “Even when I’m dying to choose you.”

The words hung there, suspended like a breath not yet released. I didn’t know what to say. My heart ached in ways I hadn’t prepared for. I wanted him to beg. I wanted him to stand up and yell that he couldn’t live without me. But instead, he just sat there, broken and real in a way I’d never seen before.

“You say that,” I whispered, “but where was that energy when I needed it? When I stood in your office holding back tears while you acted like I was replaceable?”

Julian’s shoulders dropped. “I was scared,” he admitted. “You weren’t part of the plan. You were the chaos I didn’t see coming. And I ruined everything because I didn’t know how to handle what I felt.”

“You still don’t,” I shot back. “I know,” he said. “But I want to try.”

I stood, pacing the edge of the rooftop, wind tugging at my curls like it wanted to pull the tension out of my body. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough right now. “I didn’t ask you to be perfect,” I said without looking at him. “I just wanted honesty. Effort. Presence.”

Julian rose slowly, keeping his distance. “You had all of me, Bea. But I was too late realizing it.”

I turned sharply. “And now I’m supposed to believe this sudden vulnerability? This whole ‘I see you now’ speech?”

“No,” he said, voice rough. “You’re not supposed to believe anything. You’re supposed to feel it. And if you don’t, if I’ve broken us too far—then I’ll leave. But I’m here now because I finally get it.”

“You get what?” “That you were never the mess,” he said. “I was. And I punished you for my chaos because you handled yours with grace.”

Tears stung behind my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. “I wanted you to want me,” I said, voice low. “Not when it was convenient. Not when you felt jealous. But always. Publicly. Proudly.”

“I know,” he said. “And I failed.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “The offer’s real, Julian. Creative Director. Full control. My dream.”

“You should take it,” he said again, softer now. “Even if it means losing me.” “Why does it feel like I have to choose?” I asked, voice breaking. “Why can’t I have both?”

He didn’t answer. I looked down at the phone in my hand. Everything I’d worked for. Everything I’d wanted—except him.

“I wish you’d fought for me sooner,” I said. “I wish I had too.” We stood in silence for a long while, the night pulling tighter around us. Then he took a slow step forward. “I can’t ask you to stay. But I can ask for one thing.”

I raised a brow. “Let me prove it,” he said. I stared at him, arms still folded, heart wide open and exhausted. “You want me to believe that you’re ready now, after everything?”

Julian nodded. “I don’t expect you to trust me overnight. But I want to earn it, day by day.”

My eyes flicked down to the rooftop tiles, then to the skyline glittering around us. I could leave tonight. Start over. No pain. No Julian. No second-guessing.

But also… no him. He stepped closer, slowly, like I was a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. “Let me take you to breakfast tomorrow,” he said. “Not as your boss. Not as anything official. Just two people. No labels.” “I’m not interested in coffee dates that lead nowhere,” I said.

“I’m not interested in losing you,” he replied. The wind cut through us, and still I didn’t move. “Why now?” “Because tonight I realized that I was always waiting for the right moment, and it never came. So this is it. The messy, wrong one.”

His honesty hit harder than any grand speech. I hated that I believed it. I hated how easily my body still leaned toward him. I looked at the phone again. Still glowing with that damn offer.

“You’re the hardest thing I’ve ever wanted,” I murmured. He smiled faintly. “You’re the best thing I never deserved.” There was nothing left to say. Just the distance between us. Just the ache.

He reached out, brushing his fingers along mine. The touch burned, even in the cold. We leaned in at the same time. Close. Too close. His breath touched my lips, the moment stretched—one second, two. Then I pulled back, trembling. “I need to know it’s not just guilt or obsession,” I whispered. Julian’s eyes softened. “Then I’ll prove it.”