He sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. I patiently wait, letting him say what he wants to say on his own time. “The reason I don’t like to talk about my family is because…I never had one. I was bounced around foster homes ever since I was a baby, each one more dismal than the last.” His voice turns bitter as he speaks, but his eyes say something different. His beautiful, jewelled eyes look so bereft that it feels like a fist around my heart.
“Julian I’m so sorry,” I whisper sadly, reaching out and placing my hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He places his hand over mine, holding it in place for comfort as he brushes his thumb against my fingers.
“You’re the first person outside of my agents I’ve ever told.” He turns and looks deep into my eyes; the vuln
