Time.
She’d had plenty of it during the midnight drive from D.C. to Mystic Cove. Plenty of time to go over every detail of their relationship, to analyze every situation, to see where they could have possibly gone wrong. To see where she made a mistake,to think about how she could have been so foolish as to not understand. To have misread his happiness so completely.
New Year's Eve was only two nights ago, and the harsh, harrowing memory crashed into her like a crushing wave. The pain was still fresh and her heart still ached. Remember what happened was like reading a book, like she was on the outside looking in, watching it all unfold. Helpless to do anything to stop it. After she discovered them in the bathroom, Juliette wandered through their rooftop apartment in a trance, desensitized to the chaos of partygoers all around her.
Champagne flowed like a river of sparkling gold, and alcohol-tinged laughter echoed in her ears. Couples kissed in celebration, their entwined figures nothing more than shadows compared to the fireworks bursting over the Potomac River, illuminating the night sky with dazzling colors. But Juliette had dropped down onto the overly expensive gray sofa. She’d sat there, dazed as the party carried on in slow-motion, her head in a fog and her thoughts seemingly lost.
She didn’t know how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? She no longer knew, no longer cared. At some point, someone pressed a glass of chilled vodka into her hand.
Eventually, everyone faded away, and there was only her.
And Rodrigo.
“Jules, I’m begging you to try and understand. It was just sex.”
“It’s never just sex.” Even now she could see the woman on the bathroom counter. Shapely hips, long blonde hair, her head tossed back as her hot pink nails carved their way down Rodrigo’s back.
“Juliette,” he crooned. “What you saw upstairs, it was nothing.”
His voice changed then, and it became more soothing, like he was trying to console a small child. “Surely you have toknow, Jules. Deep down, you knew it was coming, just like I did. I merely saw the signs sooner.”
His smile had been gentle, sympathetic even. “Once upon a time, you had goals. You had dreams. Now you bounce from job to job, unhappy in every setting. You have no plans to do anything with your life except, what? Live off the allowance I give you?”
Tempered anger caused her to lash out at him. If she was strong enough, she would’ve crushed her glass in her hand. “You took all of that from me.”
He shook his head, his dark eyes warm and understanding despite her outburst. “No, I took you away from the place that took all of that from you.”
“You said I could do whatever I wanted.” Her voice broke.
“Yes.” He shrugged then, resolute, as though this sort of thing happened all the time. “I just thought you’d actually do something by now.”
Maybe Rodrigo was right. Maybe he hadn’t wasted seven years of her life. Maybe she had done it to herself instead.
Juliette snuggled into the plush comforter and closed her eyes, hating herself for crying, even if her tears were silent.
She couldn’t afford to waste another opportunity to do what she loved.
In the morning, she would text Brock.
CHAPTER 8
Brock received Juliette’s text as he was dropping off supplies for one of his project sites. He stared at her message for two solid minutes before getting his ass over to the flower shop.
Juliette
Plot twist. How soon can I start?
By the time he arrived at Mystic Florals, he didn’t even have to go inside to get her. Juliette was standing out in the cold, bundled into a fuzzy gray coat and a dark green beanie, waiting for him. She shifted her weight from side to side, stealing glances at the window display behind her. As soon as he pulled up, she climbed into his truck.
“Thanks for the ride, but you didn’t have to pick me up.” She pointed to the small silver car parked in the front lot. “I know how to drive.”
“I know. But I was in this area of town, anyway.” A tiny white lie, which he ignored by nodding toward the shop instead. “That front display looks good.”
Her expression instantly soured, and she let out a harsh laugh. “I thought so too. But I don’t think my mother would agree with you. Well, if I’m being fair, more than anything, I think she was mad I didn’t ask permission. I’m not sure why I even bothered with it.”
“Because you thought this time would be different.” Brock turned out of the parking lot onto Shoreline Drive, then made a left on Paradise Point Lane, which would take them a bit further inland. “It’s always the reason we bother trying again, because we always have hope for a different outcome.”
For a few minutes, she said nothing. She simply sat beside him in the comfortable quiet.
