I Took Off My Ring At The Abandoned Station Chapter 10

I Took Off My Ring At The Abandoned Station Chapter 10

I just stood there, looking at the painting, at 

the woman by the window, and the petals on 

the floor. 

“Julian.” 

“Yes?” 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“For letting me know what it feels like to be treated with sincerity.” 

He turned to look at me. 

His eyes were very bright. 

“Abigail, you don’t have to thank me. You just need to be yourself. Leave the rest to 

me.” 

Julian Sterling officially confessed to me on 

a rainy day. 

100.00% 

He came to pick me up from work; the car 

was parked downstairs, wipers swishing 

back and forth. 

He was in the driver’s seat. 

“What made you come pick me up today?” I 

asked. 

“It’s raining, and you didn’t have an 

umbrella.” 

“How did you know that?” 

“Chloe Stevens told me.” 

I smiled: “Since when are you two in 

league?” 

He didn’t answer, but reached into the back. 

seat and handed me a bag. 

I opened it–inside was a scarf, 

cream–colored and very soft to the touch. 

“It’s getting cold,” he said. “Don’t catch a 

cold.” 

I looked at the scarf and suddenly 

remembered something. 

Nathaniel had bought me a scarf once, too, 

but that was in our third year together, and 

only after I reminded him three times.. 

That scarf was black and so thick it felt like 

wearing a rug. 

I never wore it. 

Not because it was ugly, but because I had to 

ask for it. 

Julian gave this to me without me asking. 

“Abigail,” he spoke suddenly, his voice soft but earnest, “I like you. Not because of your looks or because you’re capable, but because 

you are you.” 

I looked at him. 

“You don’t have to answer now. Tell me 

whenever you’ve made up your mind. I’m in 

no rush.” 

Rain drummed on the car window. 

I looked down at the scarf in my hands and 

touched it; it was so soft. 

“Julian.” 

“Yes?” 

“My last relationship lasted seven years. 

“I know.” 

“It took me a long time to move on.” 

“I know.” 

“I might not be able to love someone as unreservedly as I did before.” 

“I don’t need you to be unreserved,” he said. 

“I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. 

And for the parts you aren’t ready to give, I’ll 

wait.” 

The rain kept falling. 

I wrapped the scarf around my neck; it was 

very warm. 

“Okay,” I said. 

He was stunned: “Okay what?” 

“I said okay. I’m saying yes.” 

He stared at me for a few seconds, then 

smiled. 

“Then from now on, every rainy day, I’ll be 

here to pick you up.” 

“Okay.” 

After being with Julian, life became very 

peaceful. 

He wasn’t the type to manufacture surprises 

-no sudden flowers or 

spur–of–the–moment movies. 

But he would bring me soup when I was working overtime, check the weather for me 

when I was traveling, and sit quietly beside me when I was tired. 

He didn’t need to speak, just being there was 

enough. 

Chloe Stevens said: “Mr. Sterling might 

seem low–key, but he’s incredibly steady.” 

I said: “Yes, steady.” 

“Ms. Miller, was that what your were 

missing?” 

I thought about it and nodded: “Maybe.” 

When I was with Nathaniel, I was always 

waiting. 

Waiting for him to come back, to finish 

work, to remember me. 

That kind of waiting felt like being 

suspended; you didn’t know how long it 

would take, or what would be there at the 

end. 

With Julian, I don’t wait anymore. 

Because he never makes me wait. 

He shows up when he should, and he’s there 

when I need him. 

Not because he’s perfect, but because he 

truly cares about what matters to me. 

One evening, we were watching a movie at 

his place. 

He cooked, I did the dishes, and then we 

curled up on the sofa to watch an old film. 

Halfway through, I leaned on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep without realizing it. 

When I woke up, the movie was over, and the 

screen was just a blue light. 

There was a blanket over him, and one over 

me too. 

“You’re awake?” He looked down at me. 

“How long was I out?” 

“Not long. Want to keep watching?” 

“No. I should head home.” 

“I’ll drive you.” 

He drove me home, mostly in silence. 

When we reached my building, Lunbuckled 

my seatbelt to get out. 

“Abigail.” 

“Yes?” 

“Did you have a good day today?” 

I thought about it: “I did.” 

He smiled: “That’s all that matters.” 

I got out, walked into the lobby, and looked 

back once. 

He was still in the car; he rolled down the 

window and waved. 

I went up, entered my apartment, and changed my shoes. 

My phone vibrated. A message from him: 

Goodnight. 

I replied: Goodnight. 

Then I put down my phone to wash my face. 

In the mirror, my lips were curved into a 

smile.