The day was… well; it could only be described as cheerful. Julia glared crossly at the skies stretching above her, adjourned as they were by puffy white clouds, feeling that the weather was mocking her. Doubtless, William- for she had texted him earlier in the day, unable to face hearing his voice- would be expecting a day as pleasant as the climate. His hopes would soon be dashed, as the conversation awaiting the pair would be far from that. Their relationship had progressed greatly since James Pendrick's party; if Julia hadn't been completely secure in what they had then, she most certainly was now. William Murdoch was everything she had ever dreamed of, and more, and she found him akin to a vast, magnificent puzzle. He was forever surprising her, revealing traits that she could never have guessed at, but which made perfect sense. She adored his enthusiasm when it came to information and science, and never ceased to marvel over his intelligence and courteous manner. She… did she love him? Love was such a cosmic word, infinitely layered, pressed with feelings and thoughts and promises. Julia had heard the word uttered so many times, and in so many contexts, but she didn't believe that she had ever felt it before him. There had been several flings before and during the start of her career, and those she remembered well- young and foolish she had been, driven by excitement and desire- but she had never been truly committed, and her feelings had been shallow and rash. William was somebody that she, without reservation, never wanted to be parted from. He sent her head awhirl and her heart thrumming, her chest filled with warmth every time that she looked his where. Happiness and William were two words that were hopelessly entwined; he made her happy like nobody else ever had. Here was someone who could dazzle her and interest her continually, his light never wavering. Here was someone who could steady her when she needed it, someone that she could entirely rely on. Reliability and stability…. Both meant much to her. Julia lived a life of fame and fortune, and many sought out such treasures- and would use her mercilessly to have them. She was never sure as to whom she should trust, become involved with, be they friend or lover, for fear they appreciated only her status. The few people that she knew to trust wholeheartedly were far from stable; both Ruby and her father flickered in and out of her life constantly, weaving patterns of fights and falling-outs, and the relationship between her and Thomas was exceedingly complicated. William's dedication and steadfastness was refreshing, and though some might bore quickly, Julia knew that she would never tire of his thoughtful words and actions. There would be arguments- as William was as strong as she was, though his confidence was quiet- but Julia promised herself that she would always value him for who he was. In short, she loved him… and she could not, in good conscience, continue on this way. If they were to ever become something more, without her guilt dogging her every step of the way, she had to tell him. His religion was against it, and when she had tentatively broached the subject previously, his expression of distaste had subdued her. She should have told him as soon as it became evident that they were to be seriously involved, but fear had held her back. The emotions that snagged now in her throat were difficult to describe; tension, apprehension, guilt, sorrow… and fear. Always fear. Fear of the unknown, of the forthcoming, of the shaded conversation that lay ahead of her… her brain, recoiling from this raw fear, did its best to comfort her, to ease the ache. Not as bad! It told her quickly, repeating those three words, over and over. She had to concede. This fear was nothing compared to the terror and confusion that she had once faced. It was easier to swallow- perhaps because she was older, more seasoned in life- and though it was unrelenting, it was still but a shadow in comparison to what had been. Julia leaned back against the wooden park bench, staring blindly about the rolling green landscape, now deaf to the chatter springing up around her.
"Earth to Julia?" asked a teasing voice, one that brought back her focus. Somehow, unbeknownst to her, William had managed to seat himself on the bench- which was odd, as she was exceptionally observant, especially when it came to him. His face was bright, his expression alert, mouth beginning to curve into a breathtaking smile… that, after a moment, faltered and faded. A tiny crease appeared between his now-puzzled eyes.
Julia took a deep breath. "Hello, William." Her tone, regrettably, was stiff; she cast her eyes upward, searching for the right words. Her gaze rested upon a bright red hot air balloon, floating lazily through the air, and she couldn't prevent a spark of envy. How she wished that she could be aboard that very craft, waiting to see which way the wind would take her, free from the restraints of fame and memories. She twisted her hands in her lap, fully aware of how this looked, and then forced herself to look at William. "You know that I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and that I'll be very busy throughout the next while."
"You're flying out to Buffalo," William replied, nodding too quickly. "To do some promotions for a children's hospital. You told me, and you said that you would be able to make short trips to Toronto. Infrequent and erratic, you said, but I don't-"
"Listen for a moment, please," interrupted Julia, effectively cutting him off. "I hope that you can- I understand if- ugh!" She buried her head in her hands, groaning with absolute frustration. "I'm trying so hard not to make this sound like a break up speech. It isn't, William, that much I promise. This time spent with you has been… indescribable. I don't think I've ever known such happiness, or enjoyed a person's company to such an extent."
William frowned, evidently still confused, though his brow had somewhat cleared. "Then what is the problem, Julia? I assume that there is one." He politely refrained from mentioning that, despite her efforts, her statements were still akin to a breakup speech.
"There's something that I haven't told you," she said cautiously, the back of her neck prickling with nervous dread, "but I should have. I know that you look upon such things with revulsion, but please… try to understand. Try to look at things from my point of view. I ask only for that."
"Go on," he responded slowly, equally cautious. His now-neutral expression was impossible to read; Julia could only guess at what he was thinking and suspecting. She closed her eyes briefly, found a cloud, and began to speak.
"I'm not sure where to begin… the beginning, perhaps. It was the summer after the eleventh grade, and I was seventeen years of age. At that point, I hadn't found acting- my feet were still planted firmly on a medical path. My future was bright; my grades were sky-high, as I was a hard worker, and several universities were carefully tracking my progress. I was well on the way to a scholarship, a stable and well-paying job, and a good life. Unfortunately, my academic intelligence didn't seem to cross over into every day life. I was bold and rash, reckless and foolish, my youth entirely occupying my head. I had always been wild and irresponsible, and those traits had led to many injuries and punishments in my younger years… but never had I received such repercussions for my thoughtlessness as I did that summer. His name was- well, that's only a detail; it doesn't matter- he was a year my senior. Having just graduated, he was working toward a degree in law. As the weeks stretched on, we fashioned ourselves an intimate relationship, and by August I found myself in a… compromising position. We hadn't used protection; he had told me that he knew what he was doing, that our relations wouldn't amount to anything, and somehow… I believed him. Somehow, I managed to forget about everything that I had learned in class, though I fancied myself clever. I'm still not certain how it happened, or what I was thinking, but at the time, it all seemed irrelevant. At seventeen years of age, I was with child. Desperate, scared, and confused, I went to the father. He was horrified, and made it clear to me that he wanted nothing to do with me or any child. To accentuate his point, he left town early, heading up to his university, likely determined never to return. I turned to my best friend, Isaac Tash, knowing that he would understand- for his younger sister had been in my very position- and he assisted me in finding a clinic. I had an abortion, and neither my father nor my sister even knew of the child's existence. I didn't want to tell them. I was ashamed and afraid."
Julia, biting her lip so hard that it had started to bleed, chanced a glance at William. He was very still, almost eerily so, staring ahead. She waited for a moment, to see if he would speak. When he didn't, she continued on. "I couldn't have a child. I wasn't emotionally, or even physically ready. And my future… I wanted to become a doctor. I wanted to have a career, to make something of myself. I didn't want to be that girl, supported only by her rich father. I had so many dreams, so much ahead of me, selfish as that sounds."
"It was a choice of convenience, then?" William asked abruptly, his sharp voice cutting through Julia as easily as would a knife. "Why not give the child up for adoption?"
Her heart sank. "Of course, I considered adoption. In the end, though, I decided that I couldn't go through with it. Would a child abused and neglected be better off than a child aborted? All that I had was the uncertainty- and it seemed equally irresponsible. I was scared, William… the fear that coursed through my veins is impossible to convey. I was a petrified, selfish child, and I couldn't handle my emotions. I couldn't even face my father's reaction. My thoughts were dizzying, swooping here and there, and I was too young…" Julia's voice wavered, and then she set her teeth, filled now with a bitterly edged strength. "I thought myself invulnerable, and for that arrogance, I paid the price. I am not trying to justify my actions to you, for I do not seek your approval, nor your forgiveness. I am simply trying to explain." She searched the depths of his dark brown eyes, not daring to hope, keeping his gaze in hers.
"Isaac Tash," William said slowly, his eyelids lowering as he turned away. "I met him at Mr. Pendrick's party. He knew about your abortion?"
Julia nodded once, confirming his statement. "He is- was- the only one who knew."
William took that in silence, clearly turning the information over in his mind, analyzing it with precision. Julia couldn't help thinking that he would have been excellent at interrogating suspects, what with his impassive mask, assimilating all sorts of stories.
He hesitated, opening and closing his mouth several times, appearing to be searching for the right words. "Do you regret- how could- I can't- I don't- I don't know what to say, Julia. I won't deny that I am entirely against abortion, as is my religion. I don't know if I will be able to put such a thing out of my mind, despite my best efforts-"
Julia's voice began to climb, and her hands tightened on the wooden edge of the bench. "That's precisely it, William," she said, strained, struggling for a semblance of common ground. "I don't want you to forget about it. I won't ask for you to endorse it, or twist your views, but I do need you to accept my abortion… or else we will be unable to move on." She lapsed into silence, an odd sense of déjà vou dogging at the base of her skull. Such a notion was as absurd as it was unbearable- living through such a scenario even once was incredibly painful; twice was unthinkable.
My last life, Julia thought sardonically, must have been as chaotic and angst-filled as a television show.
"I might need some time," William spoke diffidently, his demeanor brooding, still not looking fully at her.
Julia knew that she should protest, that she should not run from this particular problem, but her body betrayed her. She got shakily to her feet, cast William a disappointed glance, and began to walk away.