38. Julie
38
I want to kick myself.
Better yet, I want to be able to jump back in time and do things differently.
My eyes feel puffy and dry from crying all afternoon, but my chest hasn’t felt this light in months. There’s a fog stuck in my head, but somehow, I still see clearer than ever.
I should have told Charlotte so much sooner.
I’ve been stubborn and blinded by fear of the potential outcome of Jacob’s threats, so much that I didn’t even consider confiding in anyone. To not trust that someone could actually help me with this.
Trust .
Isn’t that the recurring theme in my life? Jacob broke my trust like a damn twig, and it made me lose trust in everything around me.
But it’s not his fault. It’s my own. I let his voice become louder than my own. I let his actions mean more than the ones of my friends and family around me. I allowed that to happen.
I’m the only one to blame.
It’s four in the afternoon when I slug back through my parental home with the deepest desire to have a nap before dinner.
Charlotte convinced me I need to tell my dad why I quit our business, and share what Jacob is trying to do, and I will. But I need to give my brain a break before I’ll be able to find the right words.
Not expecting anyone at home, I turn right to carry my weight up the stairs, which is a goddamn challenge if you have to ask my heavy legs, before the sound of a chair scraping the hardwood floor stops my movement.
“Julie?” My dad walks into the hall, distress etched deep into his frown.
“Hi, Daddy. What’s wrong?” The trouble in his eyes shakes my heart as the lightness I walked in with is pushed back by a touch of darkness.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Fuck.
I follow him into the dining room with dread slowing my steps.
Please, don’t let it be Jacob.
Not now. Not here. Not ever.
Please, please, please.
But my eyes widen with confusion when I look at the same girl who’s determined to plant herself in my path. Her brown hair sits at the back of her head in a ponytail, the same washed-out jeans peeking from where they are tucked underneath the big oak table, different hoodie but same pleading expression as all the time before.
Kathy.
“What are you doing here?” With a suspicious gaze, I round the table, stopping at the seat across from her, my hands resting on the top of the chair.
“Come sit, honey. Please.” My dad leads by example, taking the seat at the head of the table.
My heart pounds its way up my throat while my sweaty palms clasp the smooth wood of the chair.
“You have no right to be here. To come to my home.”
“I know,” she says with soft brown eyes before they flicker with defiance. “But I’m not gonna apologize. He needs to be stopped. And even though your mouth keeps saying no, I can see the cry for help in your eyes.” I swallow. “You agree with me. But he’s holding something over your head.”
Fuck . Fuck. Fuck.
I’m ready to share why and how he pushed me out of the company. I’m not ready to share that he…that he… Bile works its way up my throat. Waterworks threaten to break through behind my eyes, and I hold on to the chair a little tighter, trying to swallow everything away.
I can’t even say it, or I’ll break.
“Is that true, Julie?” My dad searches my eyes, determined to pull out the truth. “Something like fifty thousand dollars?”
Oh god.
It’s like I’m watching a nuclear bomb explode in slow motion. There’s no more running. There’s no more turning my cheek. This is happening, whether I’m ready or not.
I’m not. By the way.
“It’s not your fault,” Kathy says. “He’s the one to blame.”
I can feel her honesty, her compassion. The room seems to spin, and I close my eyes, trapping my tears inside.
“Did he hurt you, honey?” my dad questions, folding his hand on top of mine.
My lungs deflate, and I pull it back.
“I need a minute.”
“Don’t walk away again,” Kathy pleads when I’m halfway to the door.
“I need a minute,” I reply firmly, shooting her a glare and regretting it right away.
When I reach the hallway, I drop my back against the wall, then squint down, covering my head in my hands.
‘The truth has a funny way of catching up with us,’ Charlotte said earlier today.
Dammit .
Since when is she fucking clairvoyant?
I’m happy I went to see her and told her everything. It gave me the strength and confidence to do things differently and confide in the people I love the most.
But I also wanted to do it on my terms. My timeline. And in comes Kathy ripping my timeline to pieces. Is the universe messing with me?
I said okay . I gave in. I’m on board. Can I please catch my breath? Why does it have to happen all at once?
Because you already waited too long, Julie.
Well, goddamn.
Pebbles trail up my arms, as if my entire body suddenly wakes up because, fuck me, ain’t that the truth?
I tried to run from this disaster, and it didn’t work. I tried to hide, and it didn’t work. I only have one choice left, and I can’t afford not to make it.
Okay.
I suck in a few shaky breaths, taking my time to gather my nerves. Am I really doing this?
Can I have everything I want if I don’t?
Jason’s bright smile flashes in front of my eyes, the trigger for a tear to break free.
No, I don’t.
If I want any chance of the future I desire, a future with Jason…I have to fight first.
I have to be brave and slay my demons myself.
I fill my lungs one more time, pretending I can inhale my bravery out of the air, then get up and walk back into the room.
The sympathy radiates from both of them, and this time, I embrace it, taking the seat a little less tense.
My dad grabs my hand, and I meet his gaze. “Whatever you think you have to do, you don’t. There’s nothing you did or could ever do to make me stop loving you. I’m sure you made mistakes. So have I. But I will always see the truth of your heart, Julie.”
I can’t hold back my tears, and my shoulders shake. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”
“It’s okay,” he soothes, rubbing my arm.
The tension in my body becomes a little less with each tear shed until it’s reduced to sniffing. They are both staring at me with blank expressions, though their eyes are filled with silent encouragement.
Okay, here it goes.
“He got a call from a girl and tried to tell me it was a client,” I start, talking around the lump in my throat. “I knew better, and we fought until he stormed out. He came home drunk, and he climbed on top of me while I was asleep. I woke up and told him no.”
My stomach flips for all the wrong reasons, and my eyes fly shut. I still remember it vividly. His dress shirt was open, revealing how his once athletic body was now covered by the result of drinking too much beer. He was heavy, sturdy, and I can still smell the alcohol on his breath when I make myself go back there.
“But he wouldn’t listen.” I sniff, forcing myself to continue. “After a couple of minutes, I just gave up. I let it happen because he was my boyfriend. It was my own fault.”
I’m such a coward.
I should have fought. I should have done something. I should have done more.
Shame washes over me, and I let it, because it actually frees up some space in my ribcage. Funny enough, the humiliation of what happened lingers in the air, but it’s not as heavy as I thought it would be. It doesn’t outweigh the relief that’s settling deep down in my bones.
“No.” The vigor in Kathy’s tone demands my attention, and I wince. “It wasn’t your fault! It doesn’t matter what kind of relationship you have. No one should ever touch you without your permission.”
My upset stomach calms when a warm feeling spreads to my torso. All this time, I treated her like the enemy when, really, she’s my ally. I reach out my hand, silently asking for hers, and when her palm falls in mine, I squeeze.
Filled with gratitude, I push out a smile.
She’s right. Maybe I’ve always known she’s right. But maybe it was easier to pretend I was wrong than look in the mirror and look for the strength to fight.
“Thank you.” I swipe away another tear, then let go of her hand.
“I’m going to murder that son of a bitch,” my dad mutters with a set jaw.
Oh, God, my poor dad.
“Dad, no, he’s not worth it.”
“Why wouldn’t you go to the police?” Kathy questions.
“After that, I packed my bags and came home. I was finally done. I wanted nothing to do with him, and I only tolerated him at work. He didn’t want to accept it, though. He proposed to me a month later. Said he was sorry, dropped to his knee, and expected me to say yes. He left the ring on my desk so I could think it over.” I shake my head.
“But there was nothing to think over. I wanted to be with Jason. But Jason found the ring and saw the same situation that happened over and over again. Me going back to Jacob. I can’t even blame him.”
“Does Jason know about his brother hurting you?” I look at my dad with wide eyes, the question fucking with the continuity of my heart.
“God, no. He’d kill him.” Literally. “No, Jason went back to LA, and I gave him time to cool down. But when Jacob realized I wasn’t going to say yes, he also realized he wasn’t going to run Bradford Real Estate with me after you retired.” I carefully meet my father’s gaze, realizing I’m hitting him like a wall of brick as the blood rushes from his wrinkled cheeks.
“Oh, no. He stole fifty thousand dollars to frame you?”
I swallow my sadness away. Or at least I’m trying to.
“No, he forced me to quit and push him forward to you or he would release a sex tape, destroying the Bradford reputation. Stealing the money was just a way to make you believe I was running for a legitimate reason.”
My father’s silence is deafening, frightening, and he’s not a violent man, but now I wonder why I never confided in him. There’s a wildness in his eyes I’ve never seen before, and as much as I hate the turmoil I know is going on inside of him, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so loved.
“Were you aware of the sex tape?” Kathy asks.
“No. Never.”
“That son of a bitch.” A fist slams on the tabletop, and Kathy and I both bounce in our seats.
Rage tenses up his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I know you loved him like a son.”
His glare shoots my way, though I know it’s not meant for me. “Are you kiddin’ me? I loved him because you loved him. He’s not my child. You are . He doesn’t mean shit to me if he doesn’t mean shit to you.”
I blink. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say shit that many times.”
There’s a little humor in my tone, but he completely misses it.
“So that’s why you moved to LA?”
I nod, staring at my yellow painted nails.
“I applied for a job at NVS and got it. I took it as a sign.”
“You realize we need to make sure he goes to jail?”
Not this again. I damn-near choked on my own tongue when Doctor Lowell asked me again if I was sure I didn’t want to press charges. He didn’t push, but it was clear where his opinion was.
But I can’t.
My features twist, every ounce of blood pulled to my toes, because yeah, no. I shake my head. I confessed. I told them the truth. I opened up, but I will not go to the cops and risk Jason’s business. There is no fucking way.
He will never forgive me.
“I can’t,” I inform them firmly, and without any room for doubt.
“Why not?” Kathy screeches, incredulously.
“Calm down.” My father studies my face, while I keep shaking my head, until he frowns. “What else don’t we know?”
Fuck.
I don’t want to share this part. It’s worse enough that Jacob took something that was so pure and real and ruined it like it was nothing. He reduced it to something tacky, when it was the best moment of my life.
Well, until Santa Barbara.
But they both keep staring at me like owls, one vigorously pissed about not doing the right thing, the other with confusion about what more is going on.
My instinct is to get up and get out of here like I’m being chased by the devil. But my gut keeps me rooted where I am.
There’s no more hiding, Julie.
You’ve said it yourself, this shit is blowing up. All you can do is hope it will all work out in the end. Something weird swirls around my insides.
“That night Jason and I hooked up, we were at his mother’s house.” Fuck, I’m gonna be sick. “She was away for the weekend, and Jacob was supposed to be at our old apartment. He wasn’t. He taped us.”
I fly off my seat, just in time to dump Charlotte’s fried chicken into the kitchen sink. Hunched over, I gasp for air while hurling up every bit of my lunch. The bile burns the back of my throat, pushing out my leftover tears before they turn into full sobs of sadness.
I’m done.
I’m so fucking done, it’s not even funny.
It hurts. It all fucking hurts, and I just want it to stop. The tension. The sadness. The doubt. The fucking constant pain in my heart when I think about doing to what is right and doing what protects the man I love.
My father’s leather shoes click on the tiles of the kitchen floor. “Are you okay?”
I turn on the faucet, certain there’s nothing left in my stomach, then wash my face.
“He has a video of you and Jason?”
Grabbing a towel from one of the lower cabinets, I fill my lungs before getting rid of the excess water on my skin. My gaze collides with my dad's worry when I lower the towel.
I nod. “If I piss him off, he will send it to all Jason’s clients. His reputation will be ruined, and he will lose everything he’s worked for.”
I chuckle, though there’s no humor. I ended up in some kind of a bad movie.
“I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through this alone.” My dad steps into my space, taking a hold of my arms. “You don’t deserve this, and you’re the purest of angels for sacrificing yourself for the ones you love. But no more, Julie.”
“I love him, Dad,” I croak out. “I can’t fuck up his life like that.”
He drags me against his chest and wraps his arms around me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a hug this deep into my soul because as soon as my body connects with his—I let go.
I tighten my arms around his back, and I unapologetically sob into his clean shirt. His familiar cologne with woodsy notes opens up my heart a little more with each breath I take. Finally, I feel safe. A feeling I haven’t felt in fucking forever. He just holds me like that, patiently waiting until I’m ready to let go.
He lowers himself so he can look me in the eye, and I wipe away the rest of my tears with the back of my hand.
He smiles, tender and loving. “I might be an old man, but I’ve seen how smitten Jason has always been for you. Always loving his brother’s girl. I think he’d give it all up for you in a heartbeat.”
He would.
“What if he blames me?”
My dad’s smile dissolves, his eyebrows gluing together. “What if Jacob hurts another girl and you blame yourself?”