No Gods But Me
"
I had once loved the twenty-three-year-old Julian Sterling, the man who held an umbrella for me in the rain, terrified even a corner of my clothes would get wet.
I had also loved the Julian Sterling who held me through all those nights when I suffered because the oracle blocks never blessed me, whispering comfort into my ear.
But I also hated the Julian Sterling who said he loved Celia and abandoned me without hesitation.
Even more, I remembered the thirty-year-old Julian Sterling who set traps for me with his own hands and cost me my mother and child.
The twenty-three-year-old Julian Sterling had, in the end, been killed by the thirty-year-old Julian Sterling.
I lifted my head and looked