Jules blows out a breath and tips her head back against the headboard.
“We were in a car accident.”
Every muscle in my body tightens, and I can’t stand it anymore. I pull her into my arms and hug her so close, I’m surprised she can still breathe.
“Hey, I’m okay.”
“Fuck.Fuck.”
Her fingers comb through my hair, and she rubs her hand up and down my back.
“I’m right here, Brooks.”
I pull back enough to cup her chin and lay my lips over hers. “Are you telling me I almost lost you?”
“No, I was barely hurt,” she says, and the knot in my stomach loosens just a bit. “I’m okay.”
Letting out a shaky breath, I relax my hold on her so she can continue with her story.
“We’d been arguing because I wanted tofinallyleave him, and he was throwing a fit, talking about how his chemo was about to start again, and how could I abandon him, blah blah blah. He wasn’t watching the road, and there was a curve, and he went into the ditch. A tree smashed his side of the car. By the time we got to a hospital, he was brain dead.”
Her eyes find mine, and they look so haunted. So fucking tired.
“They asked me if he was an organ donor, and if I wanted to donate his organs to save someone else, and I was so confused. This was the same hospital system where he received cancer treatment, so they had his medical records. I said, ‘How can you donate organs from a cancer patient?’”
I shake my head. Fuck, I know where this is going.
“And they told me that he didn’t have cancer. He was as healthy as could be. He’dneverhad cancer, Brooks.”
“Jesus.” I plant my lips in her hair and hug her to me. “What did you do?”
“I told them to take everything they needed from him and then pull the plug.”
She shifts in my lap and cups my cheek.
“That was two years ago. After he died, I foundmeticulousnotes that he’d taken about how he’d manipulated me. How hebroke us up, kept me close, did all he could to make me marry him. But that’s not all I found, Brooks.”
I frown down at her. “What else is there?”
She blows out a breath. “Jesus, I’ve never said this out loud to anyone.”
“I’m not just anyone,” I remind her.
“He must have had fifty mistresses in the time we were together,” she whispers, and my blood heats with more anger. “That’s why he insisted on separate rooms, so he could come in and out of the house without me noticing. He wasn’t fucking me, which is fine, but hewasfucking. When his estate was settled, it was discovered that he had left a huge sum of money in a trust for one of those women. I don’t care. I don’t want his money. But he made me the executor of her trust.”
I frown down at her. “Wait. That piece-of-shit motherfucker made it so that you have to be in constant contact with his side piece?”
“Pretty much.” She nods and then huffs out a laugh. “She gets automatic payments, but she burns through the money so fast that she always tries to get more from me.”
That must be who called her that morning, asking for money.
“Jesus, he fucked you over.”
“I think that’s the shittiest part. I mean, he left me with everything else. I sold the huge house we lived in and used the money to buy my building and start my restaurant. The rest of the money I don’t want, so it just sits in an account. I won’t touch it. Although with all the water damage, I might have to dip into it to fix my place up.”
Jesus, I feel like shit. All those years, she dealt with an abusive piece of garbage, and I didn’t know.
“I never should have let you go.” I press my forehead to hers. “I should have stood my ground and fought for you. I shouldn’t have walked away.”
