“You’reeverything.”
His words rupture the torment inside, splitting it wide open until all I feel is a paralysing sadness.
“I’m lost, Jules.”
“And I’m your home, Zan.” We stay locked into each other as the rain pelts down, our breath meeting in the short space between us.
“I’ve already felt enough pain for one lifetime from one home, I can’t do it again…I can’t.” We’re shouting above the rain, even though we’re face to face, desperate to be heard.
“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you–”
“But you did, Jules. You’ve hurt me worse than he ever did.” Rainwater drips from his lips and nose, but the moisture rolling down his cheeks isn’t lost amid the rain; it’s unmistakable proof of his regret. We stand nose to nose, projecting our pain, only for it to reflect back at us.
“I didn’t– I thought I was helping you. Please, Zan. If you believe anything, believe that.” His eyes are closed, and our foreheads are pressed together hard. With every plea, he pushes himself further into me, urging me to listen, to believe him. The most twisted part of this whole thing is that I already do. Julesdoesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. I know his intentions were pure, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he lied to me.
The reason I can't look at him right now is due to the fear that’s taken residence. The terrifying realisation that the person I see staring back might not be the same person I've seen most of my life. It would be the friendship equivalent of verifying a death– final and absolute. It would certainly bring a whole new level of grief that neither of us could handle, nor want to. The scariest part of it all, however, is the fact I would do it all again. I would push him down the stairs, I would orphan myself time and time again if it meant Jules got to keep his Mom for a little while longer. If it gave me the opportunity to lead a normal life—however short—I wouldn't hesitate. For Jules, I would do anything,be anything,so long as he was by my side.
“I do, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“But I didn’t want to hurt you anymore,”he whispers against my lips.
“I’m so tired, Jules.”
“Then let me look after you. Let me protectyou,the right way this time.” His lips press softly against mine, light and full of apprehension. Different in a way that feels like we’re completely new to each other, yet familiar in the sense I recognise where my heart truly belongs– broken or not. Time waits once again, temporarily paused, holding its breath for my answer to his kiss.
Submission to the peace Jules has always offered comes easily as our mouths begin to move together in slow, affirming strokes. Each press of our lips is a battle between my pain and his remorse. Every brush of our tongues is a fight for control andsurrender. But every finger that wraps around another is a reunion of two souls forever bound.
“I’m… Sorry…” Jules soothes between each pause for breath.
“I know,” I pull his face back to mine so we’re eye to eye, heart to heart, as we both try to steady our shaky breath.
“Do you forgive me?”
“Not right now, but I will. Ask me in ten years.” He visibly relaxes, his body slumping against mine as we turn to the house, making our first steps toward the start of forever.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jules – One week later
Age 20
“Hold still, this is the part where it could all go horribly wrong. Well… not for me, more for you…” Zander’s tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth; that’s how I know he means business.
“Zander…”
“Jules! What did I just say?”
“I didn’t move!”
“Almost… Done…” The cut-throat glides over the swell of my adams apple. I tense and hold my breath– I guess this is when we find out if he really did forgive me last week.
“There, all done. Let me just put some balm on, and you’re all good.” He swipes a bottle from the counter, splashing liquid into his palms and rubbing them together. The smell is pretty strong, not exactly the soft and gentle scent I was expecting. Rough hands meet my now-smooth jaw, and I can’t help but lean into his touch, soaking up everything he gives me… Including the sudden burning and stinging sensation following his hands as they move across my face and neck.
“Ahh, Zander!!”
“What?!”
“It’s burning, fuck! Make it stop!” Zander’s expression transforms into one of sheer panic, reaching for the towel beside him.
