Unwritten Obsession - Joe Goldberg

Chapter Fourteen: Unspoken Bonds

Joe

The air feels different tonight, heavy and charged, as though the world itself is holding its breath. I sit across from Juliet, the space between us both a comfort and a reminder of all that's unsaid. Every glance, every shift in her posture, feels like a puzzle I'm desperately trying to solve, and I don't know if I'm getting any closer to the answer.

I've been pacing in my mind for days now, waiting for her to come around, but I realize tonight that waiting isn't enough. I can't afford to let her slip further away. She's the one constant in my life, the one person who makes me feel like there's meaning to what I'm doing, to the quiet routine I've built around myself.

Her message from last night, though small and brief, was a step forward, but it didn't feel like a breakthrough. It wasn't enough. It never will be, not when she's still holding back, keeping her distance like a line in the sand I can't cross.

But tonight... tonight feels different. I'm not going to wait for her to decide. She's confused, I can see it in her eyes, but it's time she realizes something: she doesn't have to be afraid of me. She doesn't have to be afraid of whatever this is between us.

I need her to see it, to feel it.

I take a slow breath, trying to steady myself, then I speak.

"Juliet," my voice is soft, but there's something there—something that I don't know how to hide anymore. "I know I've been... a lot lately. And I know you're not sure about all of this, about me. But I need you to understand something. I'm not here to pressure you. I'm not going to try to make you feel like you owe me something, because I know you don't."

Her eyes are fixed on her hands, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her sleeve, but her silence speaks volumes. She's listening, even if she doesn't know how to respond.

"I just want you to know," I continue, leaning forward slightly, "that I'm here for you. For whatever you need. And if you want to take things slow, then we'll take them slow. But you don't have to do this alone. Not anymore."

I watch her carefully, watching how her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes, the way her shoulders tense, then relax. She's struggling with something, I can tell. She's torn between the pull of what I'm offering her and the fear of letting herself get too close.

"I know I'm not perfect, Juliet," I add, my voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I don't have all the answers. But I know what I want, and I want to be here for you. I want to be the one you turn to. I don't expect anything in return. I just need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. Not if you'll let me stay."

The words feel heavier than I expected, and I wait for her to say something. To tell me I'm crazy. To tell me that she can't do this. But instead, she just stares at me, her lips parted as if she's trying to find the words, but they won't come.

I don't push her, though. Not this time. I've been too persistent, too forceful before, and I know it's time for me to take a step back. If she needs time, then she can have it. But I'm not leaving. Not again.

Juliet

I can feel my pulse in my throat as I listen to Joe's words. He's right about one thing: he's been a lot lately. Too much, maybe. But at the same time, I can't deny that part of me is relieved by his presence, even if it makes my head spin.

I've been avoiding him, pushing him away, because it's easier than facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, I don't want to be alone anymore.

"I..." I start, but my throat feels dry, the words not coming as easily as I want them to. "I don't know what I'm doing, Joe."

He doesn't interrupt me, just watches, his gaze soft but unyielding. It's like he's waiting for me to figure it out, to let myself say what I've been too afraid to admit.

"I don't know how to do this," I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to let you in. I've been alone for so long, I've... I've built these walls around me, and I don't know how to let them down."

I feel the weight of my words as they hang in the air, the vulnerability in them almost suffocating. It's as if I've exposed something I've kept hidden for so long, something I wasn't even aware of until now.

Joe shifts in his seat, but doesn't move any closer. He respects the distance. That's the thing about him. He knows when to give me space, and when to push, but always gently, always carefully.

"I know," he says quietly. "I know it's hard. But you don't have to do it alone, Juliet. You're not alone, okay?"

The sincerity in his voice breaks through the walls I've spent so much time building. The words feel like a lifeline, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe them.

"I'm scared," I admit, my voice trembling slightly. "Scared that if I let you in, I won't know how to protect myself anymore. I'm scared of feeling too much."

Joe doesn't move, but I see the way his eyes soften, the way his expression shifts to something gentler, something warmer.

"You don't have to protect yourself from me," he says, his voice calm but steady. "I'm not here to hurt you, Juliet. I'm here to help you, to be someone you can count on. But only if you'll let me."

I want to let him in. I want to stop being afraid. But I don't know if I'm ready.

"I'll try," I say finally, my voice quiet, almost to myself. "I'll try to let you in. But it's going to take time."

Joe gives me a small, understanding nod. "I'm not going anywhere," he says softly. "And I'm not asking for anything from you. I just want you to know you don't have to do this alone. You don't have to carry everything by yourself."

The words feel like a balm on a wound I hadn't even realized was still raw. I want to believe him. I want to trust him, even if it scares me.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I don't have to do it all by myself.