Chris leaned in carefully, pressing a slow, tender kiss to her lips.
The scene shifted again.
Suddenly, they were on a red carpet, the golden Hollywood couple stepping out of a sleek black car, the flash of cameras exploding in every direction. Chris climbed out first, effortlessly smoothing his suit before reaching back to take Jules’ hand, helping her out like she was royalty.
She took the lead, gliding forward with effortless grace, him following behind, his hand resting possessively at her waist. He didn’t just want to walk beside her; he wanted to protect her and scan the crowd like a bodyguard. When they reached the designated photo line, they stopped. Chris pulled her in closer, his hands never leaving her waist. Jules turned to him, adjusting the knot of his tie.
“I love this dress,” he murmured low enough that only she could hear.
“You do?” she asked absently, smiling and waving at the fans screaming their names.
“Easy access for later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. Jules didn’t react at first, she kept smiling like a seasoned pro—but then, the tiniest, wickedest smirk curled at the edge of her lips.
A crew member stepped up. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones, you’re next.”
Jules gave her dress one last smoothing before turning to Chris. Her gaze locked onto his, confirming every unspoken promise about what would happen later. He grinned, leaning in for a kiss— But she playfully stepped back.
“You’re going to ruin my?—”
“Makeup. I know, I know,” he finished with a smirk, shaking his head.
29
JULES
The scene around me dissolved, fading into nothing, and with it, I felt like I was slipping further away from my own mind. The daydreams wouldn’t stop. They kept coming, relentless, crashing over me like waves.
I was so scared.
But mostly, I wastired.
Exhausted.
It was like my body didn’t belong to me anymore. I couldn’t keep myself here, in this moment, in this version of my life. My thoughts had become their own cruel trap, dragging me back to places I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t take it. I let out a scream, piercing and raw, the kind that comes from deep inside and makes your throat burn. My hands flew to my head as if I could rip the thoughts out and physically claw them away from my mind.
I didn’t want to daydream about him anymore.
I didn’t want to see his face every time I closed my eyes.
I didn’t want to hear his voice echoing in my head, soft and teasing, saying my name the way no one else ever had.And I didn’t want to live in this twisted space where every memory, every feeling, was blurred between what was real and what wasn’t.
I was done.
I ran up the stairs, my footsteps pounding so loud they echoed back at me like some kind of taunt. I was done. Done, done, done. But God, it hurt so much to fight it.
I slammed the door shut and locked it, my breath coming in these quick, gasping pulls like I’d run a marathon. Carol was right behind me, but the click of the lock shut her out. I dropped by the bed, my legs giving out beneath me, and my hands trembling so badly I had to grip them together to stop the shaking. When I looked down, I saw the marks on my palms—old scars, fading but still there. I pressed my long nails hard on top of the old scars, making them bright red.
I pressed harder, welcoming the sting because at least it was real. The pain in my hands was something I could handle. It wasn’t like the pain in my chest, spreading through every part of me like a wildfire I couldn’t put out.
“Jules, please, let me in!” Carol’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. My whole body was trembling now, and every nerve was burning as I controlled my spiraling thoughts. The pressure in my hands and the sharp bite of my nails were my go-to ways to stay grounded, but not this time. This time, it wasn’t working. The room was spinning, everything was blurred, and I could feel the edges of a full-blown panic attack coming. My breathing was fast and shallow.
“Jules! Please!” Carol called again, more urgently now.
“I need a minute!” I forced the words out, shaking so badly that they almost didn’t make it past my lips. I needed to be alone for a moment to gather myself and push the panic down where it belonged. Even as I was having a literal breakdown,the thought that came to my head was that I couldn’t let my baby sister see me like this. She’d worry too much.
Then there was another knock.
Harder.
