Chapter 19
DAMIEN: She’s lovely when she laughs. You almost look human when you make her do it.
My hand tightens on the phone.
DAMIEN: The rehearsal dinner should be entertaining. I’ve arranged to be seated nearby. Old friends catching up. Your girlfriend won’t mind, will she?
I don’t respond. Responding is what he wants. Confirmation that he’s gotten under my skin. Evidence that I care enough to be threatened.
A third message:
DAMIEN: You were careless today, Julian. In the water. On the beach. You forgot to look for me. You forgot I was watching.
He’s right.
The realization hits me like a physical blow. For hours—for most of the day—I’d been so focused on Poppy that I’d let my guard down. Let myself be distracted by the warmth of her hand, the sound of her laugh, the impossible hope building in my chest.
I’d forgotten to be afraid.
That’s exactly what Damien wanted. And exactly what makes this so dangerous.
DAMIEN: See you at rehearsal dinner tomorrow, old friend. I’ll try not to ruin the surprise.
I delete the messages. Close my eyes. Force myself to breathe—that old, unnecessary habit that grounds me in the rhythms of a life I no longer live.
Tomorrow. Whatever he’s planning, it happens tomorrow night.
I need to be ready.