Chapter 28
Juliette
I rubbed my temples. Jesus. How much did I have to drink last night? My vision was foggy as I looked around my bedroom. Realizing I was still dressed in my clothes from yesterday, I blinked my eyes fully open. The clock said it was eleven in the morning, the day after I threw Wes out of my life.
When I checked my phone, he had sent me a text last night.
I just left a letter in your mailbox. Please read it. I won’t be contacting you again unless you reach out to me. I hope you do. In the meantime, I’ll respect your boundaries.
I had little desire to read whatever was in that letter, yet I went to retrieve it.
I returned to my room and tucked the envelope under my pillow until I’d properly geared myself up for it.
Feeling miserable, I went to the kitchen to make coffee. When I opened the fridge, I realized Wes had even taken his food with him. He’d done exactly what I’d asked him to do, which was to disappear. I wondered if I’d ever see him again.
After two cups of coffee and lots of staring blankly into space, I couldn’t put off reading Wes’s letter any longer.
I returned to my bedroom and reached under my pillow before settling in a comfortable position. As I opened the letter, I immediately noticed his meticulous handwriting, something I’d never seen before. It was just as beautiful as he was.
Dear Juliette,
I don’t even know where to begin. So I’m just gonna write my heart out, since I have nothing to lose. You’re everything to me, and I’ve already lost you, haven’t I? So the worst has already happened.
Please believe me when I tell you I never intended to hurt you.
When I agreed to go undercover to investigate your father, I didn’t even know you.
I took that position with the best of intentions.
It was a way of earning respect on the force again, while also having the opportunity to take a criminal off the streets. It seemed like a no-brainer.
But then I met you. And everything I thought I knew changed. Suddenly, nothing was simple anymore. Your best interests became my interests. And, well, the meaning of “doing the right thing” wasn’t so clear any longer.
From the moment we first interacted, I knew I was in trouble.
I looked into your eyes and saw a beautiful, but pained, woman who didn’t deserve the predicament she’d been placed in.
Over time, I realized you were as kind and smart as you were beautiful.
Every day we were together, I was slowly falling in love with you, even if I didn’t realize it right away.
In retrospect, though, I know I loved you for almost all of our time together.
I need you to understand that everything we experienced together was entirely real.
It wasn’t until I met you that I realized it’s possible to live two parallel lives.
Every moment we were together, that was the real me.
If I had to slip back into Wes-the-cop for the sake of work, I did so, but never a moment went by when I didn’t feel absolutely horrible about that.
Deceiving someone you love, when you never set out to do that, is probably one of the worst feelings you can have.
You’ve wanted to know why I had a change in demeanor recently.
That came to a head, as you know, the morning of our trip to the farmer’s market.
I wasn’t able to tell you the truth then because I hadn’t figured out the best way to approach it.
But what you saw was me trying to work through the dilemma of how to get out of this situation without hurting you.
As you and I grew closer, I no longer wanted anything to do with taking down your father.
All I wanted was to love you freely, to protect you.
And that included protecting you from the harm I knew telling you the truth would cause.
I was struggling, trying to figure a way out, and apparently, I did a terrible job of hiding my torment in the process.
I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth when you all but begged me to.
But please know my intention, even in hiding the truth, was always to protect you.
Possibly having saved your life will always be the greatest thing I’ve ever accomplished. I would do it all over again. I don’t regret a single moment with you, good or bad. I only hope that someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me for the misjudgments I made along the way.
I love you so much, Juliette. If you take nothing else from this letter, please believe that.
I don’t know what’s next for me. I just hope that by some miracle all roads lead back to you. That may be a pipe dream, but it’s one I’ll never give up on, even if it takes a while.
I love you, Juliette. Never forget that.
Yours,
Wes
Tommy must’ve heard me sobbing because he knocked on my bedroom door. “Juliette? Are you okay? I was just out here eating a sandwich and heard you crying.”
Sniffling, I wiped my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“I saw Wes drop something off last night,” he called from behind the door. “Does this have anything to do with him?”
I hesitated. “Wes quit. And I’m just…upset…because we were close.”
“I can be your friend, too, you know.”
I scowled. As nice as Tommy was, I had no interest in a personal relationship of any kind with him. From the very beginning, I’d had such natural chemistry with Wes. Nothing had ever felt forced.
“I appreciate that, Tommy. But what I really need right now is some space.”
“Okay. Gotcha. Well, holler if that changes, okay?”
“Thanks. I appreciate you checking in.”
Getting under the covers, I wallowed in my bed for a while until my phone rang.
My heart skipped a beat as I considered whether it might be Wes. But when I looked at the caller ID, it was my father.
I inhaled and picked up. “Hi.”
“I let Wes go.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What?”
“I wasn’t sure if you knew. But I’m letting you know I fired him. He’s not competent enough for the job anymore.”
“He told me he was quitting.”
“He can’t quit,” my father snapped. “I fired him.”
Right. In some ways, my father was like a toddler you had to coddle. I played along with his delusion.
“Well, I agree that was the best decision…to let him go. He wasn’t able to work after the shooting.”
“I didn’t like how tight you seemed to be with him, either. So this is for the best.”
“Is that the only reason you called…to tell me you fired Wes?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then. Have a good night.”
After I got off the phone, I stared into space.
I knew for certain that Wes was better off not working for my father anymore—or rather, better off not pretending to work for my father while he really worked for the cops.
Despite how this had ended, I was happy that he’d gotten away.
In fact, I was envious that Wes had the option to detach himself from Vince, something I’d do if I could.
An eye for an eye, I supposed. Wes had saved my life, and I’d saved him.
Only now I had to live with the guilt of not stopping my father’s inevitable capture.
After moping around my room most of the day, I eventually made my way out to the living room. I looked down and found that in his haste to leave, Wes had actually left something behind: one of his signature black hooded sweatshirts. Picking it up off the floor, I held it in my hands.
Don’t do it.
But it was too tempting. I lifted it to my face and took in a long whiff of his delicious, masculine scent. It was fascinating how one smell could bring on a deluge of memories and feelings.
Deep down, I did believe he’d never meant to hurt me.
Tears once again rolled down my cheeks. Always the glutton for punishment, I slipped the sweatshirt over my head and wrapped my arms around myself.
As I closed my eyes, for a moment I imagined it was his arms around me.
I doubted anyone would ever make me feel so safe and protected again.
Speaking of self-punishment, I opened my laptop and decided to read some of the news articles I’d been avoiding. Articles with titles like:
Bodyguard Nearly Dies Saving Mafia Princess
Ginocassi’s Guard May Have Been Target
Hollywood Hit: When the Mafia and Tinseltown Collide
After scouring every word, I realized just how close both Wes and I had come to dying. I’d been so incredibly mean when I kicked him out yesterday. And he deserved better for the sheer fact that he’d saved my life.
I returned to my room and read his letter a few more times. I accepted the truth of his words about how he felt about me. I wondered where he’d been when he’d written the letter, whether he’d eaten anything, whether he’d cried. I wondered a lot of things I might never know now.
Tempted to call him, I must’ve picked up the phone a dozen times only to put it down again. What good would calling him do? Wes needed a clean break. And despite understanding how he’d gotten himself into the undercover predicament, I probably wouldn’t ever fully trust him again.
I needed to leave well enough alone.
I needed to let him go.