It wasn’t just sex.
Closing the lid to the container in front of me with a defeated sigh as my appetite disappears, I slide it across the counter toward my brother.
“Grab me a hot dog or something next time, alright?” I say. “My blood’s notMontgomeryrich anymore.”
With a quick glance to my brother and a firm nod, I pat my palm against the counter top and slide off of the bar stool, heading toward the kitchen’s exit.
“Tripp,” Brody calls after me. When I look over my shoulder to meet his gaze, his brow pinches. “You know that if it ever came down to it, every one of us would choose you over them, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I know.”
Chapter 20
JULIA
Silence.
For seven days, my house has been silent.
No engines revving on the driveway, no humming over a skillet filled with bacon, no purring at the foot of the bed or chirping at the birds just outside of the bedroom window.
Just raw, unending,agonizingsilence.
My heart and my mind have been loud; screaming, pleading.
The only things that I want to silence, but I can’t seem to shut off.
Buried under a thick comforter, I reach to the tray next to me for a cookie and I take a small bite, letting a clump of sugary blue frosting fall onto the pillow with a sigh.
I thought he would have come home by now. I thought that we would talk, maybe scream at each other for a while – not loud enough to have the police show up at our door, but loud enough to get it out of our systems. Maybe we would throw things at each other.
Something.
My phone has been on its charger since the moment that I got home from that church, just waiting for my husband’s nameto light up on the screen, but it hasn’t. He hasn’t called me, he hasn’t texted. Nia won’t give me any information, other than to tell me that he’s at their house and he’s safe.
I feel like I’m drowning.
My heart has sunk into the depths of my chest and no matter how hard it tries, it can’t seem to claw its way back to shore.
A series of loud and excitable meows filter up into the bedroom and I tear away the blankets covering my legs, unbothered by the tray holding my chocolates and cookies being dumped onto the floor in my excitement.
Tripp is locking the front door behind him as I barrel down the stairs toward him, and he turns to stop me by putting a hand up in front of himself with a shake of his head and a quiet‘don’t.’
He looks terrible.
I don’t know why, but I thought that after a week, he would have healed up and he would look like Tripp again; but he doesn’t. His lip is still split at the side, now scabbed over. The bruising around the cut on his cheekbone is still dark and angry, now with yellowed skin around the edges.
His eyes…
His beautiful eyes are shadowed by faint green and purple bruising, and they’re tired.
So tired.
“Tripp,” I whisper.
Everything in my body aches. Not being able to touch him or wrap my arms around him and make sure that he’s really here is so physically painful that I can hardly stand it.
“I thought about leaving you,” he tells me. My hand reaches for the space above my heart on instinct, clawing at my sleep shirt. “I walked out of here ready to come back with papers and tell you to sign them, but…” Heaving a sigh, he drags his hand down his face. “Tell me the house was empty while I was gone.”
