“But—”
“No,” he snapped. I bit down on the inside of my cheek until my mouth filled with blood, a dull echo of what had happened last night.
Jules smoothed back his hair and took a deep breath. “He’s dangerous, Evangeline. You’re lucky you’re alive. He could have used you to get an advantage over me. He could have killed you for vengeance. Do you really want to be with someone who would use you like that?”
But I said nothing. My heart had run out of words.
I stared out the window at the blur of streetlights passing by, my reflection ghosted over the glass. I looked smaller like this. My body had folded in on itself, and my soul had disappeared from my eyes. I looked like a shell of the old Evangeline, the stupid girl who believed Romeo and Juliet might one day find a way to be together. The girl who believed in fairytale endings and charming princes falling in love with the wrong girl.
I should have known. My life was too far from those books to ever be true.
“Evangeline, answer me.”
I said nothing.
“Evangeline. Please. I only want what’s best for you. I’m not trying to be an asshole.”
I said nothing.
“Annie. It will be all right. He is just a boy. There will be others.”
I said nothing. Alek was not just a boy. He would always be so much more.
Jules looked through the mirror, and for the first time, his disappointment and anger left his brown eyes. There was only worry in its place, his heart slowly winning out over the fire of his emotions. But mine had become hollow, leaving behind a black hole where the sun once was.
“Annie,” Jules whispered one more time. “I’m sorry.”
I said nothing.
The house came into view too quickly—the looming brick, the iron gates already opening like a mouth ready to swallow me whole. I felt something inside my chest cave in as we pulled into the driveway.
Home.
I’d never felt further from it in my life.
As Julian parked, he finally turned around to look at me. Really look at me. His eyes flicked to the sling, the bandages, the faint tremor in my hands. Something dark crossed his face. Guilt, maybe. Or anger, redirected inward.
“This is for your own good,” he said.
And again, I said nothing.
I followed him inside to my bedroom, which felt like a prison cell. My brother tried to tuck me under the pink comforter, but I shrugged off his arm and tossed the blanket on the floor, curling into a ball on top of the sheet. I didn’t want warmth that wasn’t from Alek. I didn’t want anything but sleep.
I was tired. I was so, so tired of this. Of being the helpless baby sister. Of being the girl with the broken mind. Of not being strong enough to fight for my love with Alek.
That thought made my eyes sting with another onslaught of tears, my heart splintering even more—knowing that if I was good enough, maybe we could have been together.
And that hurt me worse than the bullet ever could.
January 14th
Mia
Soooo, you weren’t at rehearsal today??? Is everything okay? Are you sick???
January 15th
Mia
