So you’re going to keep her?
If that’s what she wants.
You don’t even know her!
Do we ever really know anyone?
That last text had been a jab at him for turning on her so suddenly, for breaking her heart and upending her life. Truth was, she couldn’t trust his love anymore. She simply didn’t believe in it. Her marriage felt like it had gone up in smoke so quickly and easily—far too quickly and easily to have been real in the first place.
She checked her phone. Cliff had sent her a lot of other stuff after that. But she’d decided if she didn’t stop responding to him he’d go on forever. He wasn’t used to hearing the wordno. She didn’t take the time to read the rest of what he’d sent. Julian was outside, trying to clean up something—she couldn’t see what but guessed it had to do with the noise that’d jarred her awake again—and she felt he needed her, even though he kept pushing her away.
Leaving her phone on the bed, she hurried downstairs to find Julian kneeling in the silver wash of moonlight, a thin line of blood sliding from a cut on his hand.
“What’s going on?” she asked, startled by the wound.
When he looked up at her, he seemed so lost and filled with despair she couldn’t help gripping his shoulder.
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
Julian wasn’t sure how Charlotte managed to get him into the house. The first few minutes after she came out were a blur. He knew she cleaned and bandaged the cut he’d gotten attempting to pick up the glass; he had a Band-Aid on his hand and he wasn’t bleeding anymore. He also knew she’d taken care of the mess he’d made on the deck; he could remember hearing her go in and out while she insisted he rest on the couch. Other than those two things, he couldn’t say what had happened or how long it took. He’d drifted off while she was gone, hadn’t been aware of anything until she came back in and helped him from the sofa to his room.
“Julian, I need you to tell me what’s going on,” she said, having him sit on the bed while she took off his shoes and socks. “Something’s wrong. I can tell. So can Sloane.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled.
Standing, she made him raise his arms so she could pull off his shirt. “No, you’re not.”
“Just had a little too much tonight. That’s all.”
“You’ve been having ‘too much’ almost every night since we got here. Why? Drinking like this... It isn’t you.”
“Vacation.”
“It’s not that! You’re not partying. You’re staying away for long periods of time, drinking alone. But whatever’s going on with you, we’ll help. I hope you know that.”
“I know you’d try,” he said.
“What does that mean?” she asked.“What is it?”
He couldn’t help touching her face. She’d always been so goddamn beautiful. “If things were different, I’d marry you,”he announced. “Cliff wouldn’t stand a chance of getting you back because I’d treat you so fucking good you’d never want to leave me.”
Her mouth dropped open in apparent shock, which made him laugh, and that madeherscowl.
“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” she said.
“I do,” he insisted.
“You just said you’dmarryme.”
“I would.”
She gave his bare shoulder a slight shove. “You’ve never shown any interest. You’ve pushed me away every time I’ve... I’ve crossed that line!”
“Because I can’t have you. But I’ve always known you were special. The guy who gets you is going to be damn lucky.” He thought of her current husband and grimaced. “I just hope it’s not Cliff.”
“I already told Cliff that I won’t go back to him, and I meant it.”
“Good! He doesn’t deserve you.”
