CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"SWEET YOUNG THING"
As the party continued around them, Michael pulled Juliana closer, and in that warm embrace, they whispered promises of countless nights to come. Their playful teasing and genuine affection turned the simple act of being together into something extraordinary—a memory that would forever glow as brightly as the jack-o'-lanterns in the night.
Hours later, after mingling and laughing, Juliana couldn't keep her secret thoughts at bay any longer. She pulled Michael aside into a quiet corner of the beach house, her heart pounding in her chest. "Michael," she began, her voice soft but trembling with resolve, "my parents finally came back and are throwing a party next week. I want you to come. It's important to me."
Michael smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd love to meet them," he said. "They must be incredible to have raised you."
Juliana hesitated, summoning her courage. "There's more," she admitted, lowering her voice. "I've barely seen you these past few weeks. And...when I said I'd make this worth your while, I meant it." Her cheeks flushed as she glanced away. "I want us to have some time alone—right now."
Michael blinked, surprised. "You mean it, Jul?"
Juliana nodded, her voice steady despite the butterflies raging in her chest. "I've never been more sure of anything. I love you, Michael." She reached for his hand, and together, they slipped upstairs.
In Michael's room, Juliana perched nervously on the edge of his bed, her fingers trembling as she began to unbutton her shirt. The silence between them felt heavy, and she filled it with her usual chatter, trying to ease the knot of tension in her chest. "I'm so excited you'll be at my sweet sixteen party next week—"
Michael froze mid-reach, his face draining of color as if he'd been struck. "Wait. What did you just say?" His voice was sharp.
Juliana looked up, startled. "My sweet sixteen party?" she repeated hesitantly, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.
His eyes widened in disbelief, his voice rising in a mixture of panic and dread. "You're fifteen?!"
"No!" she exclaimed, her tone defensive but shaky. "I turned sixteen in May. But we were moving, and then mom and dad left to do a show tour in Japan and visit my sister, so they're combining the welcome back party with a belated birthday celebration." Her words faltered, her voice barely above a whisper by the end.
Michael stumbled back, running his hands through his hair, his face etched with disbelief and horror. "Oh no. No, no, no. This can't be happenin'." He started pacing, his movements erratic, his breathing shallow.
"Michael, what's wrong?" Juliana asked, her voice trembling. Her hands clutched her shirt to her chest, halting mid-button. "We haven't done anything wrong."
Michael spun to face her, his eyes wide, his expression torn between anger and anguish. "Juliana, you're sixteen. I'm nineteen—almost twenty. This is not okay. Your parents...they're going to kill me. And they'd be right."
Juliana's heart shattered at his words, the weight of his panic crushing her. "I don't understand," she whispered, her voice breaking. Tears pooled in her eyes as she searched his face for some glimmer of reassurance. "I love you. Isn't that what matters?"
Michael's jaw tightened, his face pale as he shook his head. "It's not that simple, Jul. This isn't just about love. It's about... about what's right. And this—" He gestured between them, his voice cracking. "This isn't right. Not now, not like this."
The room blurred through Juliana's tears, her body shaking as she tried to hold herself together. "Please, Michael," she pleaded, her voice raw. "You mean everything to me. Don't do this."
Michael's shoulders slumped, the fight leaving him as he looked at her with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. "You need to go home, Juliana," he said softly but firmly. "Now. I'll ask Davy and Stacy to take you."
"No!" she cried, her voice breaking as she stood, her tears streaming freely down her face. "If you're going to end this, if you're going to throw everything away, you owe me the decency to take me home yourself!"
He stared at her for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Finally, he gave a curt nod, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Fine. Let's go."
When they descended the stairs, the party below fell silent. All eyes turned toward them, the air thick with tension. Davy, sensing the gravity of the situation, tossed Michael the car keys without a word. Stacy, her expression stricken, rushed to Juliana and enveloped her in a tight hug.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Stacy whispered, her voice soft and full of concern.
Juliana shook her head, her face streaked with tears but resolute. "This is between me and Michael," she said, her voice trembling but firm.
Michael walked out the front door without looking back, his steps heavy with finality. Juliana followed, her quiet sobs echoing in the still night air as the door closed behind her. Neither spoke as they climbed into the car, the silence between them a chasm too wide to bridge. The engine roared to life, and as Michael pulled onto the road, Juliana turned her face to the window, tears spilling silently as the lights of the neighborhood blurred and faded into darkness.
—
The silence in the car was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension and Juliana's muffled sobs. Michael gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched as he focused on the empty road ahead. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and sharp, tinged with frustration and guilt.
"Juliana, stop cryin', alright? This is on me. I should've known better. But for God's sake, you said you were a sophomore, enrolled at USC. What was I supposed to think?" His words tumbled out in a rush, each one laced with self-recrimination.
Juliana sniffled, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her sweater. Her voice trembled as she replied, "I am a sophomore. I've always been ahead. I had private tutors my whole life. I finished high school at 15. I didn't mean to lie to you—I just didn't think it mattered."
Michael glanced at her, disbelief flashing across his face. "And your parents—your strict parents—how did they let you do that photo shoot? You didn't look 16 there. Not even close."
Juliana hesitated, her face crumpling. "They didn't let me. They didn't even know. My parents were out of the country, and when Stacy told me about this great job at school that the photographer wanted another girl, I just used my college ID since I don't have a driver's license."
Michael shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "So, you forged ahead without thinkin' about the consequences. Do you even realize how dangerous that was? How reckless?"
Juliana's voice cracked. "I didn't think it would matter. I just wanted to feel like a real high fashion model, to do something big. I didn't know it would lead to... this." Her shoulders heaved as fresh tears fell. "I've ruined everything, haven't I?"
Michael sighed, his voice softening despite the tension in his shoulders. "You haven't ruined everything. But you could have. Tonight—you brought me up to my bedroom. What were you even thinking?"
Juliana's voice dropped to a whisper. "I was thinking I trusted you. You always said we could stop if I felt uncomfortable."
Michael's grip on the steering wheel loosened, his tone tinged with weariness. "And I meant that. But would you have stopped me? We were caught up in the moment. I stopped because I knew it was wrong—for both of us. Juliana, it's better this way. It has to be."
She turned to him, her tear-streaked face filled with raw emotion. "I don't care about what's better. I care about you. I've never felt this way before. I'm losing you—not just as... something more, but as my friend. I can't bear that."
Michael swallowed hard, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "I don't think I can be just your friend, Juliana. It wouldn't be fair—to either of us. It's better if we don't see each other at all."
Juliana's breath caught in her throat as she turned toward him, tears streaming down her face. "No! We can work it out. I won't be 16 forever. Please, Michael. Don't do this."
Michael shook his head, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. his voice thick with frustration and sorrow. "You're too young to know what you want or what's good for you. You think you love me, but you don't understand yet. You need time to grow up, to figure out who you are and what you deserve. And it's not me, Juliana."
Her voice cracked as she pleaded, her words tumbling out in desperation. "You don't understand. I do know what I want. I know it's you. You're everything to me. Please, don't throw us away."
The car rolled to a stop in front of Juliana's house, the porch lights casting a pale glow across the hood. Michael killed the engine, but neither of them moved. The silence stretched, heavy and unbearable, punctuated only by the sound of Juliana's quiet sobs.
Michael forced himself to keep his gaze forward, afraid that if he looked at her, he'd break. "You deserve someone better, Juliana. Someone who runs in your circles, someone your parents can accept. They're right about this. I know because I've been where you are—thinking I knew everything, thinking I could take on the world. But the world taught me I was wrong, and I won't let you make the same mistakes I did."
Juliana's sobs filled the car, and Michael felt his heart shatter with every sound. He wanted to reach out to her, to wipe her tears away and tell her it would all be okay. But he couldn't. Not this time.
"Juliana," he said, his voice softening, "you're gonna be okay. You'll move on from this. You'll see, in time, that this is what's best for both of us."
She shook her head, her voice barely audible through her tears. "I don't want to move on. I don't want what's 'best.' I just want you."
Michael's lips pulled into a thin line, the silence between them heavy and suffocating. Finally, he turned to her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"You're gonna hate me for this," he said, his voice trembling. "But someday, you'll realize that this was the right thing to do. And you'll find someone who can give you everything you deserve. I'm just... not that person."
Juliana's lip quivered as she stared at him, her eyes wide and filled with devastation. "You're wrong. You're everything I deserve. You're my everything."
Michael felt his resolve falter, but he forced himself to stay firm. "I'm sorry, Juliana, we can't see each other anymore," he whispered, his voice breaking.
She shook her head, her tears streaming unchecked down her face. "Don't do this, Michael. Don't walk away like this. I don't care about the world, about my parents, or anything else. I care about you. You've been everything to me—my teacher, my friend, my... my everything. Please, don't let this end like this."
Michael looked at her, his eyes filled with an ache he couldn't fully hide. "You think this doesn't hurt me too? You think I don't feel the same? But this—us—it can't happen. Not now, not like this. You're too young, Juliana. And I can't—I won't—be the one to hold you back from the life you're meant to have."
Her voice cracked as she whispered, "You're not holding me back. You're the only thing that's ever made sense in my life."
Michael's jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away. "Jul, you're provin' my point. That's exactly why I have to let you go. You're still figuring out who you are, what you want. You deserve the chance to do that without me complicating things. One day, you'll understand. You'll thank me."
Juliana let out a hollow laugh, wiping at her tears with trembling hands. "Thank you? For breaking my heart? For making me feel like I wasn't enough for you?"
His face softened, and for a moment, he looked like he might reach for her. But he didn't. Instead, he said, "You're more than enough, Juliana. You're incredible. And that's why I have to do this. You deserve someone who can give you the world—not someone like me, with my baggage, my mistakes, and my past. Your parents are gonna forbid you from seeing me and they are right to protect you. You should listen to them."
She shook her head violently. "No! You don't get to decide what I deserve. You don't get to make this decision for me. I don't care about your past or your mistakes. I care about you."
Her words hit Michael like a blow, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to stay strong. When he opened them again, they were filled with a quiet resignation. "Juliana, you think you love me now, but someday you'll see that this is for the best. You deserve someone your own age, someone who can give you everything you need without any baggage. I care about you too, Jul. That's why I'm doin' this. Because I love you enough to let you go."
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. She stared at him, her heart breaking under the weight of his words. "You still love me?"
He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do. But that doesn't change anything. Love isn't always enough. Sometimes, doin' the right thing means makin' the hardest choice."
Juliana turned away, her tears falling silently as she stared out at the darkened street. The glow of her porch light felt cold and distant, a reminder that she was about to step back into a world where he wouldn't be. Finally, she spoke. "You say this is for me, but it feels like you're breaking me, Michael. It feels like you're taking everything good in my life and tearing it away. You're taking away my best friend."
He didn't respond, his hands clenching the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white again.
She continued sobbing as she turned back to look at him one last time. "You said I'd thank you someday. I don't think I ever will."
Michael's voice was low and broken as he replied, "I hope you do, Juliana. I hope you find the happiness you deserve."
Juliana fell silent, staring out the window at. The quiet between them was filled with the sound of her quiet, broken sobs.
Michael exhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel as if anchoring himself and muttering under his breath, "Let's get this over with."
Michael stepped out of the car, his heart pounding against his ribs. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this conflicted—this torn apart, as he took one last look at Juliana. Her tear-streaked face was a picture of heartbreak, and he knew this moment would haunt him for the rest of his life. He opened the door and turned toward the front door. Juliana hovered a step behind him, her shoulders hunched and her face pale. She looked like she might shatter at any moment, and a part of him wanted to turn around, hold her, and tell her it would all be okay. But he couldn't. Not this time.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. Then he turned and walked onto the front porch, the weight of his decision pressing down on him with every step.
Juliana's sobs echoed behind him, each one like a dagger to his heart. He tried to stop the tears that blurred his vision. He had done the right thing, but it didn't feel right at all. It felt like he had just torn his own heart out and left it behind, beating and broken, on her front porch. Juliana trailed behind, dread pooling in her stomach. She barely reached the steps before Michael rang the doorbell.
The sound of approaching footsteps on the other side of the door made Juliana's breath hitch. She grabbed Michael's arm, her fingers trembling as she whispered, "Please, don't do this. Don't tell them."
Michael looked at her, his expression filled with a mix of regret and determination. "They deserve to know, Juliana. You're their daughter. They'll protect you in ways I can't."
The door opened, and Juliana's father stood there, his tall frame casting an imposing shadow. His sharp eyes looked at Juliana red eyed and then immediately locked onto Michael, narrowing with suspicion.
Michael froze, recognition dawning. "Wait a second. You're... Nicky Williams?"
Her father's lips curled into a tight smile. "It's Nick Russo. Williams is just my stage name. Which makes her Juliana Williams."
Michael's stomach dropped. "You're... both famous TV stars? What else has she been keeping from me?"
Before Juliana could answer, she pushed past them both, throwing herself into her mother's arms as her sobs escalated. Her father's gaze stayed fixed on Michael, cold and unyielding.
"I think you'd better come inside, son," Nick said evenly, stepping aside. His tone left no room for argument.
Michael hesitated but stepped in, his nerves taut as the door closed behind him with a heavy finality.
In the living room, Nick's stern gaze bore into Michael as he crossed his arms. "So, why is my daughter crying?" His stern gaze cut through the tension like a blade, and Michael could feel the weight of his tempered anger.
Michael shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Juliana broke free from her mother's embrace and ran to her father. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, "This is all my fault! I didn't know I was doing anything wrong. I pursued him because I was in love, and I thought that was all that mattered. I didn't know I couldn't date a 19-year-old."
Her mother gasped audibly, and her father's face darkened. He turned to Michael, his voice rising with restrained fury. "You better not have laid a hand on her."
Michael held his hands up defensively. "Sir, I didn't. I swear I didn't know she was only 16. She acted older—she's in college, for cryin' out loud. I met her during a photo shoot, modeling bikinis on the beach when I met her. How could I have known? She... didn't tell me her age until tonight."
Nick's voice sharpened. "That's a lie. She can't model without our consent."
Juliana cried, "Daddy, please! I told you this is my fault. When you went out of town, when Stacy told me about this great job at school that the photographer wanted another girl, I just used my college ID to do this extra photo shoot with my friend for my portfolio. She trusted me, and I let everyone down."
Nick's expression hardened with both disappointment and worry. "I thought you were smarter than this, Juliana. You've put yourself in harm's way."
Juliana's voice broke as she pleaded, "I realize that now, I'm sorry daddy. I didn't think the age difference mattered! You're seven years older than Mom, and no one thought that was a big deal!"
Nick bellowed, "Your mother wasn't a child when I met her!"
He turned to his wife. "Take her upstairs and bring down those pictures. I know she has them somewhere. I need to talk to this man alone."
Cathy guided Juliana upstairs, both of them weeping softly.
Michael raised his hands, his voice calm but firm. "Mr. Russo, I didn't cross any lines with Juliana. She told me she wanted to wait until marriage, and I respected that. When she told me about her Sweet 16, I realized I couldn't be part of her life like this. That's why I brought her home."
Nick's jaw tightened, his eyes searching Michael's face for any deception. After a long pause, he exhaled sharply. "You're right—this ends here. I don't want you seeing my daughter again. You understand me?"
Michael nodded, his voice steady. "I do. I'd never want to hurt her. I'll stay away."
Juliana's mother returned from upstairs, holding a binder of photos. She handed it to Nick, who flipped through it, his expression growing darker. The photos showed a poised, polished Juliana, looking far older than her years.
Nick shook his head, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Juliana, modeling like this at your age might not be illegal, but it's not right. You're still a child. This isn't the life we wanted for you."
Nick's voice was final. "We're moving back to New York. You've proven you're not ready to handle this. And as for Michael, you won't see him again."
Juliana's eyes widened, her heartbreak spilling over. "No, Daddy! I've made friends here for the first time in my life—real friends. You can't take me away from them. Please don't take me away from Michael!"
Nick's voice grew sterner. "I've made up my mind. We're doing what's best for you, and this young man agrees with me. You shouldn't see him again."
Juliana's face crumpled as she turned to Michael, her voice breaking, "Noooo! You're ruining my life! I'll never be happy again!" Juliana sobbed, fleeing upstairs. The sound of her door slamming echoed through the house.
Nick turned back to Michael, surprising him by extending a hand reluctantly. "Thank you for doing the right thing tonight. I'm sorry my daughter misled you, but this is the end."
Michael shook his hand, his voice heavy with resignation. "She's an incredible person. I just wish we'd met at a different time."
As Michael left the house, the weight of the night settled on his shoulders. He knew this was the right thing, but the ache in his chest told him it wouldn't be easy to move on.