Chapter 29
Juliette
Bridger’s apartment was paradise. Small, cozy, home. I had never really lived in a home before. Houses? Yes. But they just gave me coldness. Isolation. Large rooms that were clinical from top to bottom.
The grumbling in my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t really been eating properly lately. That was why I was sitting on the couch in Bridger’s living room as he talked to the delivery guy at the door, still feeling a little wonderstruck at how at home I felt.
The old house I lived in was pure torture.
I knew it was the life a lot of people strived for: the big house and the fancy garden and the luxurious cars in the garage, but that had never brought me joy.
It brought me misery. I was meant to be the ever so obedient wife.
I was supposed to take every slap and punch, slip on my Chanel dress, and smile like I didn’t want to die.
But in Bridger’s apartment? In his apartment I felt warmth, because for once I was in a space that actually felt like a home.
I liked how small it was, how it was all inviting and cozy; the opposite to the white, cold walls I was so used to.
I felt at ease, at comfort, like I was right where I belonged, and when had I ever felt like I belonged?
“Ready to eat?”
Bridger’s deep voice dragged me from my thoughts as I looked up at him. Plain black T-shirt, gray sweatpants, hair a little tussled. So handsome, so mine.
In his hands were a few brown paper bags, the scent of grilled chicken hitting me as he set the bags down on the table. The smell was too inviting, the greasy food luring me in as I pushed my hands through the opening of the bag eagerly.
“You must be hungry, huh?” Bridger laughed, handing me a plate.
My cheeks flushed and I came to a halt. “I’m sorry.”
“I was joking, baby,” he said, digging his hands through the bag and pulling out a burger and fries. He placed them on a plate and handed it to me. “Enjoy it. Eat your food.”
Taking the plate from him, I sighed. “Do you know when I last ate a burger? When you and me were together. Five years ago.”
Bridger stiffened as he sat down next to me. “I’m guessing that was his doing.”
“Gordon had a lot of rules.”
“Gordon was a lot of fun to kill.” He nodded at my plate. “Eat, princess. Be as messy as you want. I can order more if you’re still hungry.”
I bit into that burger like it came straight from heaven. “My parents would kill me if they saw me eating this,” I mumbled after swallowing a huge bite. “Tastes so good.”
Bridger chuckled. “My parents would kill me if they knew I was letting you stay here.”
My half-eaten burger was an inch away from my lips as I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”
“They, uh…” He winced a little. “Kinda hate you now.”
I sighed. “Oh.”
“They thought the whole thing was a set up. I mean, it was a set up, and they saw right through it. They thought you were in on it.” He paused, taking a sip of his soda.
“I showed ‘em that letter too when they visited me at the start of my sentence. The fake one your dad sent. Said some choice words about you.”
“Oh, God.” I groaned, putting my plate down. “Should I talk to them? They probably wanna kill me.”
“Mom? Yeah. Dad? Nah, he always had a soft spot for you.”
“Have you talked to him lately?” I asked. “Is he still doing okay?”
“He’s good. I mean, as good as one can be in his situation.” Bridger shrugged. “But you know the accident never held him back. He’s probably causing all kinds of havoc down in North Carolina.”
“I miss them,” I admitted. “They were always so sweet to me. Sweeter than my own parents.”
“You remember how pissed your parents looked when mine showed up at dinner that one time?” he asked with a laugh. “Fuckin’ disaster.”
I winced, remembering the night with far too much clarity.
Bridger had picked one of the nicest restaurants in town for my parents to meet him and his mom and dad.
Disaster had been an understatement. My parents had sat at that dinner table for maybe ten minutes tops before they called it quits and dragged me out of my seat.
The audacity, the gall to fall in love with a boy like him.
“They’re so pathetic,” I muttered. “My parents, I mean. They don’t even like me if it makes you feel better.”
Bridger snorted. “Do they like anyone?”
“They loved Gordon. They shipped me off to him the second they got the chance.”
There was a pause, Bridger’s eyes darkening as he set his plate of food down. “That’s how it happened?”
“Gordon was a punishment for me loving you. They were furious after that night. After they met you. After I told them I didn’t care what they thought, that I just wanted you.
” I shook my head at the memory. “I mean, they would have been mad if I had introduced them to any boy that night since they had already made plans for me, but they really weren’t expecting to see someone like you and your parents that night… ”
“I don’t understand.” Bridger’s brows knitted together. “What plans?”
I sighed deeply. “They had been planning on marrying me off to Gordon before we even met.”
“What do you mean? Like an arranged marriage?”
“Yes. Kind of. Gordon needed a wife so he could have a child. And he needed a child so he could get his inheritance money. My parents wanted me to marry someone like him from the get-go. They had been making all these plans behind my back,” I said, fidgeting in my seat.
“They didn’t care at all what happened to me. ”
“Fuckin’…” His head rolled back against the headrest, his eyes shutting for a few seconds. “Right, of course. Wasn’t the guy a fucking billionaire? What the hell did he need more money for?”
“I’m sure you’ve gathered by now that wealthy people can never have enough wealth.
” I rolled my eyes. “He needed a bride so he could get a child and he needed a child to get that money. And my parents got to kill two birds with one stone: they got to marry me off to some successful businessman so our family could look even more prestigious, and they also got to…”
“What?” Bridger asked when I got silent.
“They got to punish me for falling in love with you,” I said.
“Punish you?”
“They hated that I loved you.”
“Right.” He scoffed. “Can’t love the poor guy. How could I forget?”
“They were mad. Mad that I chose you, and they wanted to take away that choice. They did take away that choice,” I said, eyes falling to my lap. “I really thought it was you who had destroyed my painting. My heart was broken. And then that letter… It just felt like you wanted to keep hurting me…”
“Juliette…”
“I know now that’s not the truth. I was stupid and young and hurt.
And then my parents barged into my room one day telling me I was gonna get married in a month.
” I laughed bitterly. “They said they’d kick me out of the house if I said no.
That they wouldn’t give me a single cent, that they’d take the clothes off my back since they paid for it. This was when… When…”
“When I got sent to prison,” he said.
I nodded. “I was so scared and alone. I had no one on my side and I was still so heartbroken. I knew they’d do it too.
They’d throw me out and I’d have nowhere to go and not a single cent in my wallet.
I was their daughter, and daughters in my family go on to be quiet, obedient wives.
There was no one to turn to. You were the only person that I could have relied on, and then they made sure you were very, very far away from me.
It was either I marry Gordon and at least have a roof over my head or leave my house at eighteen with no degree, no work experience, no job, no money, nothing…
” I breathed out, all ragged and shaky. “It was such a mess. It still feels like that.”
“No, no, no.”
Two gentle hands landed on either side of my face as Bridger kneeled in front of me. A shallow breath escaped me, his forehead resting against mine.
“My sweet girl,” he said firmly. “This isn’t gonna be a problem for you anymore.
You don’t have to worry about him or your parents or anybody, okay?
I promise you this: no one is ever gonna lay another finger on you.
I won’t let them. No one’s hurting you ever again.
No one’s getting close enough to. Do you believe me? ”
I nodded. “I do. It’s just… It feels so strange to go from all of that to this. From coldness to warmth. From cruelty to kindness. God, my dad knew what Gordon was doing to me and he still didn’t even care. He laughed when he found out.”
Bridger stayed silent for a long moment, his eyes locked to mine. It looked like he had stopped breathing for a second. It took him a moment to blink. “Is that right?” he finally asked.
“He didn’t care. Not even a little bit.”
“I should kill him too.”
I laughed, the sound a little hollow. “Is it bad that I don’t disagree with you? Is that a weird favor to ask for?”
“No, baby. Not at all.” Hands still on my face, he kissed my forehead. “No one’s ever hurting you again, okay? You’re out, and you’re never going back in. It’s done. I’ve got you, Juliette. I’ve got you forever.”
I slumped forward into his chest, my face buried against the soft cotton of his shirt.
It seemed like an automatic response for him to pull me close and hold me tight, cradling me in his arms as I let the tears fall.
I cried for me and him and the years that were ripped away from him.
He had missed out on too much. Locked up for two years, without his parents, without anyone. I clung to him tighter.
“I love you,” I whimpered.
“I love you too, honey. You’re gonna be safe forever. I’ve got you always. I’ve got you until the day I die.” His voice was gravelly and soothing and dripping with a quiet confidence that told me I could believe every last word he was saying. “I love you so, so much.”