12. Julie
12
“ E xcuse me?” I should hit him over the head with something hard, but I don’t have anything within grabbing range. “What are you talking about?”
My first thought is to not entertain him and open the door so I can kick him out the way he stormed in. But my second thought is laced with curiosity that I can’t contain.
It’s like I’m this martyr that just can’t walk away. It’s like I need to hear everything he thinks about me so I can let it go, but then in the end, I don’t.
Why can’t I fucking let go?
He huffs, frustration tensing his shoulders. “I’m talking about the number of secrets you’re effortlessly keeping. No wonder you and Jacob have been hittin’ it off for so long.”
It’s like a knife straight into my heart.
Hurt coils my insides. “You are unbelievable.”
I walk past him in a daze, not even able to look at him. For someone who always claimed to have my best interests, he’s hurting me more than his brother ever did. Because at least he didn’t question my character.
“What? It’s true. You’re just like him!”
I’d like to believe he’s just lashing out because I hurt him. That deep down, he knows better. That he’s just frustrated because I haven’t told him everything.
But it doesn’t change how much it hurts to hear him say shit like this.
I spin on my heels, then let my ass drop on my fluffy couch, pulling my blanket over my legs as if it can protect me against his fury.
“Are you really that fucking blind?” I shout, because I don’t have it in me to stay calm and collected anymore.
If he wants to storm into my apartment and is dead set on having this fight, then let’s have it. Things can’t get worse anyway. I survived the last couple of days.
I’m sure I can deal with another pile of shit, right?
He shakes his head, standing in front of me with a righteous expression that I'm dying to wipe off his face. His biceps are highlighted in the dark blue Henley he’s wearing, matching the frustration that’s forming a dark ring around his irises.
“You let me touch you when you were on a date with him! You’re lying about being sick when, clearly, you’re not.” He points at the bowl of popcorn on my coffee table. “You won’t tell me what the fuck is going on between you two–”
“Don’t you dare!” I interrupt.
I’m so sick of him playing this card.
That was before we hooked up. When I finally had the balls to pour my heart out to him, he bailed on me . Not the other way around.
“Dare what?” He has the balls to glare at me like I’m the only player in this fucked-up game.
“Pretend this is on me!”
“You’re the one going back with your tail between your legs every fucking time!”
And this is where I hit my breaking point. My heart is beat up and wounded, yes. But right now, it’s angry enough to jump out of my chest and hit him over the head if he keeps spewing whatever ridiculous story he’s told himself.
“You left me!” I roar with more vigor than I ever did in my life.
He left me without as much as an attempt to listen to my explanation of what turned into a terrible situation within seconds. I know what it looked like, but he jumped to conclusions quicker than I could yell stop.
Adrenaline wraps around my organs, bugs flying through my stomach with so much ferocity it’s making me antsy.
How fucking dare he put this on me.
I chose him. I was there. I was all in.
“You had his motherfucking ring, Julie!”
There you have it. The big rock that broke our glass floor.
He thinks he knows, but he really has no idea. And you know what? That’s okay. He had every right to be confused, and I wouldn’t have been offended if he even got a little mad. But he never asked questions.
He never gave me the grace to talk to me. No, instead he walked out, flew back to California, and ghosted me for weeks until I gave up. He convicted me without any effort, when he knows me better than anyone.
And that’s what hurts the most.
He wraps his hands behind his neck, glancing at the ceiling as if he’s having a hard time breathing. Doubt and uncertainty flicker in his gaze as he studies my face.
“Are you with him?” His blue eyes are filled with fatigue, but you know what?
So are mine.
“I told you I’m not!”
His exhales are deep and loud, like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, trying to make it make sense. “But?”
My skin burns, as if I’m getting too close to a fire. I want to tell him everything. The good, the bad. The motherfucking ugly, and God , it’s ugly.
But I know what he will do, and it will destroy him. It will destroy everything he’s trying to build, and didn’t Jacob destroy enough?
Isn’t it enough that he’s going to take over Bradford Real Estate?
I can’t let him take everything. I can’t let him destroy Jason.
“But…it’s complicated.” Tears well in my eyes, and I divert them to my lap.
Fuck, I know what it sounds like.
Come on, Jason.
Dig a little deeper.
I just need him to show me he still sees me . I need him to ask why I still had that ring, so that at least he can make me believe he still gives me the benefit of the doubt.
“It’s not.” A tear escapes when I find Jason’s shaking head. “It’s really not.”
The sheer disappointment tears me up more every single time, but still, he won’t ask the right questions. He still won’t ask the one thing that could at least change this big question mark between us. The one that might be able to at least make him consider forgiving me.
I hold his gaze, my brown eyes pleading with his blues to see the truth, that I would never agree to marry his brother, but I just see his expression hardening in front of me.
“You know what,” he says, throwing me a smile that doesn’t match the cold look that comes with it. “Never mind. You’re just like him. Always want your cake and eat it too. Fuck this shit. You two deserve each other.”
He has his hand on the door in two steps, but freezes when I open my mouth.
“You want to hate me, but you don’t.”
His shoulders grow slack, his forehead falling against the door while I hold my breath. He looks so vulnerable, and I hate that I’m the root of it, but I also know I’m not. I hate that he’s feeling like the world is falling apart around him when it comes to us, but doesn’t he see that I feel the exact same way?
Doesn’t he see that I’ve been fucking lost without being able to feel his arms around my body when I don’t feel like I can deal by myself anymore?
He turns around, heartbreak in his eyes. “You’re right, Jules. I don’t. I want to so fucking bad, but I fucking can’t. And I hate myself for it.”
“At some point, you’re gonna have to open your eyes and see the truth.”
“I already see the truth!” he shouts, pointing a finger at me.
The vein in his neck pulses, and by the way he flexes his hand, I know he wants to punch something. It’s unnerving to see this man who is always the epitome of reason lose control because of me. I’ve always known he’s capable of some serious wrath, but never in a million years did I think I’d be on the receiving end of it.
“No!” I get up, matching his stance as I slowly close the distance between us. “You see what you WANT to see, Jason! There’s a fucking difference.”
He wants to paint me as the villain because he’s too scared to give in to what he feels. I know because I’ve denied it for years. For years, I thought Jason was just my friend. Always too chickenshit to admit that I knew very quickly that I picked the wrong brother.
But I did. And the fact that I admitted that to him when he flew home the last time should have been enough. The connection we felt when my body was tangled with his should have been enough .
But maybe, if this is how he really feels, I’m not enough.
His jaw ticks, and I see the emotion dissipate out of his gaze. “For years, I had to watch you walk out on me. Go back to him. Now you can watch me walk out on you.”
My lungs freeze, unable to take in a tug of air. “So this is revenge?”
The cruelty feels like a slap in the face.
“No, this is me walking away from what will never be mine.”