My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs as I ran after him, gravel crunching under my feet. I didn’t care who saw me or what anyone thought anymore. All I knew was that if he left like this, if he walked away thinking he was protecting me, I might never get him back.
When I burst through the door of his place, he was already in the bedroom, throwing clothes into an old duffle bag with sharp, angry movements. His shoulders were rigid, and the muscles ticked in his cheek. He didn’t even look up when I stepped inside, breathing hard.
“Bastian, stop.”
He kept packing like he hadn’t heard me. I crossed the room in three strides and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn toward me. His eyes were red-rimmed, haunted, and the sight of him like that broke something open inside my chest.
“You’ve been the person I’ve loved most of my life,” I said, my voice shaking but certain. “Long before I even understood what that feeling was. When I was little and the house felt like it was falling apart, you were the only one who made me feel safe. Every summer, I waited for you. Every time you left, it hurt, but I still waited. It was always you, Bastian. First, you were my guardian and my confidant. Then you became so much more. It’s always been you.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, but I didn’t wipe them away. I needed him to see what he meant to me.
“I don’t care what they say. I don’t care how wrong they think this is. I love you. I’m in love with you. And if you walk out that door right now, you’re not protecting me. You’re just breaking me.”
He stared at me, chest rising and falling fast, like my words had physically hit him. For a moment, I thought he might still try to push me away. Then something in him shattered completely.
“I love you, Juliet. I’m so goddamn in love with you it terrifies me.”
We crashed together like the world was ending. There was nothing left. No restraint. No shame. No holding back.
He kissed me like a man possessed, ripping our clothes off before shoving me onto the bed.
We collapsed together, sweaty and shaking, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“I love you,” he murmured against my hair, his voice hoarse and raw. “I love you so much it fucking hurts.”
For the first time, there was no guilt in the words. Only truth.
But we both knew the storm outside was just beginning.
11
JULIET
The days after everything blew up felt like living inside a pressure cooker that wouldn’t stop hissing.
The lake house had always been loud and chaotic, but I’d also hoped it would be my little slice of peace.
My dad would barely look at me, and when he did, his face was a mix of hurt, anger, and something that looked a lot like disgust.
He’d mutter things under his breath like “I raised you better than this” or “How could you let him touch you?”.
And God, every word cut deep.
I tried to talk to Dad the morning after the blow-up at the marina, but he just shook his head and walked out of the room muttering, “I can’t do this right now, Juliet. Let me get my bearings first.”
My mom was no better. She kept pulling me aside with these heavy, disappointed conversations. “He’s family, honey. Your father’s step-brother. This… this is going to break him.”
Her voice was thick with worry and frustration every time she talked to me. I tried to explain that I loved Bastian, that it wasn’t some reckless fling, but she’d just sigh and shake herhead like I was too young to understand how badly this could destroy everything.
The worst part was how much worse it made my parents’ fighting. They’d always gone at each other, but now, it was constant and vicious, like every argument somehow circled back to me and Bastian. I could hear them downstairs at all hours. Mom’s voice was sharp with disappointment. Dad’s was heavy with betrayal and exhaustion. Every slammed door and raised voice twisted the guilt deeper in my stomach. I hated knowing I’d poured gasoline on a fire that had already been burning for years.
Some nights, I lay in my own bed listening to the distant echoes of the arguments downstairs and wondered if loving Bastian was going to cost me my entire family. We’d been trying to stay away from each other more, giving everyone space, hoping things might cool down a little. It wasn’t working. If anything, the tension in the house had only grown thicker, like a storm that refused to break through the clouds.
As far as I knew, my father and Bastian hadn’t spoken since that night. The last time they were in the same space, my dad had looked at Bastian like he’d stepped in something disgusting.
Years of built-up resentment came pouring out from my father in nasty accusations.
My father spat out how Bastian had disappeared when the family needed him, how all the fights and worry he’d caused had slowly chipped away at everyone.
