Chapter Eighteen:
Julie’s Point of View
I raised my head slowly, trying to gather what remained of my scattered pride, even though my body was clearly trembling inside that oversized silk shirt.
I took a deep breath, filled with his scent that permeated the place, and launched my words like defensive cannons:
— "She saw me yesterday as I was leaving your room, and she came now to ask me what I was doing there.. She wasn’t satisfied with mere curiosity; she began playing her ridiculous chatter in my ears, casting filthy judgments just like her."
He moved from his spot, leaving behind a cold vacuum, circling around me with a haunting dignity until he was directly behind me.
I could no longer see anything but his shadows on the floor, and I could no longer hear anything but the rhythm of his steady footsteps, which beat in my head like war drums.
He whispered in a mysterious tone, as if coming from a deep well:
— "And you.. with your usual intelligence, chose to answer her with this provocative lie."
I felt my heartbeats accelerate, striking my chest violently like a trapped bird.
The lie I uttered was nothing but a desperate attempt to protect my dignity, but facing it now while trapped with him in this tight space made me feel the smallness of my resourcefulness.
I did not turn around; instead, I remained frozen in my place, taking my back as an imaginary shield, trying to convince myself that it was impenetrable.
— "Because she provoked me with her words.. she thought that something had happened behind those closed doors."
Then I added in a whisper,
"The fool thinks I am like her."
His voice echoed from behind me, very close this time, increasing the intensity of the tension latent in my veins:
— "Her provocation made you utter words that exceed your capacity for endurance, Julie."
He paused for a moment, during which I felt his breath brushing against my wet strands of hair, then continued in a tone heavier than lead:
"Words.. whose bitter consequences you may not be able to live with."
I clenched my fingers over the fabric of the shirt so hard that my knuckles turned white, trying to hide my fragility which was beginning to show.
My fingers were slipping on the silk as if my punishment had already begun from the moment I agreed to wear his clothes.
I gathered my remaining courage and turned slightly to throw my final card:
— "Your supervisor harbors feelings for you, I believe, and because of her jealousy, she came to my room to hold me accountable."
With a single step, he broke the distance between us until he almost touched me. He asked in a low voice, carrying a tone of genuine inquiry this time:
— "And what is it to you, her feelings?"
His words felt like a slap, making me realize that I was interfering in his affairs.
I turned toward him in a burst of anger, but I hadn’t accounted for his proximity, and my body collided with his solid chest which felt like an unshakeable steel wall.
I took a stumbling step back and said in a voice trembling with resentment:
— "I have nothing to do with you as a person, but your affairs are what invade my privacy and disturb me.. and since she has made me a target for her hatred, I have no choice but to confront her."
Abruptly, he raised his long hand and touched a strand of my hair, ignoring all my angry rebellion.
He said with a calmness that did not fit the situation:
— "You should not leave your hair wet like this.. the moisture will seep into your body and you will get sick."
I looked at him in a shock that paralyzed my movement; how does he possess this strange ability to turn our heated argument about Olivia into a cold concern for my health? I pulled my hair from between his fingers violently, muttering sarcastically:
— "And what is it to you?"
A mysterious smile spread across his lips as he put his hand back into his pocket, scrutinizing my appearance mockingly:
— "Have you started stealing my vocabulary, Julie, just as you stole my pajamas yesterday?"

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