Julian stood with his head low and hands wrung; he seemed inches shorter than usual. “Cierra, please, can we talk? I know that you probably want to kill me right now—”
“Yes, that’s correct,” Mia responded.
Julian closed his eyes in frustration and continued, “Can I talk to Cierra alone for a few minutes?”
Nodding slowly toward Mia, Cierra quietly agreed. “I’ll be okay, Mia,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll be right inside,” Mia replied before closing the door behind her.
Now it was just the two of them, with the only witness being the gleaming moon up high in the night sky. Cierra looked at Julian with cold, betrayed eyes. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
He didn’t make eye contact but continued looking at his shoes, hands in his pockets. “I . . . um.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so, sorry. It was never supposed to be like . . . I didn’t think . . .”
“You didn’t think what? That you’d ever get caught?”
“No,” he murmured. “I never thought that it’d get this far. That I’d fall in love—”
At this, Cierra laughed out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Alexandra, my wife, we were separated I met you. But by the time you contacted me, we’d started trying to make things work.” He took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. “When we started dating, I thought you were sweet and interesting and then . . . and then things got complicated. Alexandra and I have known each other since we were teenagers. It’s hard leaving all that behind, and so, before you went away to the Catskills, I was trying to distance myself from you. But then I realized how much I liked you . . . loved you . . . but I also love my wife.”
“You told me she cheated on you. That it was the worst heartbreak you’d ever experienced. Was that all a lie?” He bit the inside of his cheek and continued looking down. “Oh my god, it wasyouthat cheated, wasn’t it?” Cierra said in horror.
“Listen, I know what I did was terrible. You probably never want to see me again, and I need help. I know that. The second I leave here, I’m going to therapy. I swear. Just,please, can we keep this between us?”
His eyes seemed sincere, but what value did that hold? When Cierra didn’t answer right away, his words still sinking in, his eyes became pleading.
“Cierra, please. Please, don’t say anything, I’m begging you. I’ll do whatever you want . . .”
Cierra didn’t recognize the wallowing man in front of her. He was desperate. She stood still, mute, all words escaping her.
“I’ll do anything. Name your price.”
At this, Cierra snapped out of her daze. She scoffed. “You want to pay me off? Are you serious?”
Taken aback, as if realizing what was coming out of his mouth for the first time in the conversation, he took a step back.
“Listen, Cierra, what we had . . . I care about you. But I’ve spent over a decade building a life with Alexandra, and . . . and I’m not leaving her. I know you could use some help with building up your savings,” he said, pulling out his wallet. He took some cash out, maybe eight hundred by the look of it, and held it out.
Cierra made no move to take it, disgusted. If this is what being “cared for” looked like, she would pass on this version.
“Cierra, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said, his voice hardening.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Cierra asked.
Frustrated, Julian left the cash on a nearby chair. “Let’s not pretend you look any better than I do right now. Just . . . don’t say anything. Let me handle it.”
He didn’t wait for a response before walking around the side of the house, presumably to rejoin the party out back, putting on his charming smile again, as if nothing had happened.
Cierra reentered the mansion’s foyer, devastated. It was empty, save for Mia, who was waiting in the living room, and Erik, who was with her. Distant sounds of rock music and hearty laughter helped to fill the cavernous ground level. By the look of fury and confusion on Erik’s face, Cierra didn’t need to ask if he was aware of the situation. Even if Mia hadn’t said anything, Erik was well aware of what Julian looked like.
She walked over to her friends, too shell-shocked to feel embarrassed or sad or any other emotion, for that matter.
“That fucking asshole . . .” Erik began.
Mia reached out to place a hand on Cierra’s upper arm. “So, what did he have to say?”
“He . . . uh . . .” Cierra began, but she was struggling to form a complete sentence.
