I can’t even go crash at Alba’s place because she’s living her happy-ever-after with Lincoln’s brother now.
What a ridiculous mess.
Seriously?! I’m so angry with myself. Who the hell thought this fake marriage nonsense was going to be a good idea?
Oh, right. Me.
49
LINCOLN
After a fitful night, I wake up early.My hand stretches outward across the mattress, confirming what I already know. Jules’s side of the bed is still empty and cold.
I spent hours last night, lying completely still in bed, listening for the sound of her footsteps. When I finally heard her quietly enter the house, I was elated. I waited and waited, but then she never joined me in bed. She just snuck in and must have slept on the couch.
For hours, I was plagued by this ridiculous internal debate. Follow my feelings, go find her downstairs, and spend the night comforting her in my arms? Or, follow my rational side who knows that Jules needs her space right now?
I knew I should have followed my feelings. I should have gone down there. Scooped her into my arms. Carried her to our bed where she belongs. Hushed her protests with a long, slow kiss. Proved to her how much she means to me.
But my dumb pride kicked in.
Reminding me that this marriage was never real. Reminding me that I crossed the line by saying ‘I love you’. Pestering me with the fact that she probably doesn’t love me back.
I’ll admit I’m feelingverybutt-hurt over how things went down yesterday. In hindsight, declaring my love for a woman when she’s in the middle of a personal crisis was probably not the best decision.
Did I really think Jules would just forget about all the problems with her family and run off into the sunset with me?I feel like such a fool.
So instead of doing the right thing and going to her anyway, I continue to lie here, waiting.
I hear the faintest of sounds coming from downstairs and my heart rate picks up again, expecting Jules to creep into our bedroom any second now. But instead, I hear the quiet thud of the front door closing softly in the early morning, followed by the purr of her moped’s engine.
I swing my legs out of bed and rush to the window. I catch sight of her taillights as they swing out of my driveway.
Jules is gone again.
Goddammit!
Giving her some space turned out to be the absolute wrong move.Surprise, surprise.And I’m kicking myself for not going to her when I had the chance.
I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight. I should have gone to her. Now I’ve missed my chance.
Annoyed with my solo pity party, I finally force myself out of hiding. Downstairs, I’m met with evidence that Jules really was here. Her presence wasn’t just a figment of my hopeful imagination. There’s a faint indentation on the couch cushions, a folded throw blanket on one end, and an empty tissue box on the coffee table. I can even smell the distinct scent of her perfume still lingering in the living room.
Knowing that she was here, and that I let her slip away—I can’t decide if that makes me feel better or worse.
All I know is that I’m in love with that beautiful, stubborn, rebellious woman, and I amsoout of my depths here.
Jules is everything that I’m not. She’s my opposite in almost every way.And yet, she’s perfect for me. She shines a light in my face. She pushes me to grow. She makes me a better person.
And I’m not willing to go back to the grumpy, lonely, delusional asshole I used to be. I can’t just go back to being the asshole I was before I came to know this man Jules has turned me into.
I’m a better father, a better son, a better husband, a bettermebecause of my wife.
In the kitchen, I see a crumpled check next to the coffee machine. It’s the check Jules’s great-grandmother must have given her. The scrap of paper is just sitting there like trash on my countertop. I carefully pick it up and smooth out the wrinkles, my eyes widening at the number of zeros.
Holy shit…
My mind starts spinning with what to do, coming up with a plan.
