50. Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty
ANDREA
The festival is just as magical as I remembered it.
I didn’t think I’d miss this town as much as I do.
It was sometimes overwhelming as I watched my family enjoy themselves.
It paved as a reminder that my disease affects more than just myself.
They deserved the benefit of the doubt all along and my guilt pesters me because I never found it in myself to give it to them until now.
I can’t forget the look on Julian’s face when he saw Riley. I didn’t mean to curveball him, but I haven’t been able to find the words to tell him about that minor detail. It’s so small inside the bigger picture that it was never in the forefront of my mind.
My eyes fall on him now. His arms are full of stuffed animals that I won at booth games.
Grams ended up winning a golf cart from the raffle.
I was almost certain she rigged it, but we wouldn't have been able to get it on the plane anyway. Julian talks to Carter and Maisie, the latter gagging whenever someone walks by with a cup of apple cider. Neither of them has looked at the other since rousing from their naps. I found them loosely wrapped around each other when I’d gone upstairs to check on them before we left.
I haven’t mentioned that I saw them, and I can’t imagine the horror they felt when they woke up.
I suppose hoping they could be friends was wishful thinking.
Unfortunately, it seems it was only the liquor that made them find each other tolerable.
“You’re going to make the poor man lose his arms.”
I look over at my dad who watches Julian with concern. “I tried to offer my help, but he insisted on carrying them himself.”
He chuckles and I notice he’s aged some since I last saw him. A few more gray hairs and wrinkles. “You found yourself a good one.”
I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest. “Are you saying you approve of him?”
Shooting me a stern look, he says, “Don’t go getting any ideas about marriage and babies yet. You’re still too young for all that.”
“You and Mom got married at nineteen.” I laugh at the expression on his face. “Fine. Fine. I don’t think you have to worry about that any time soon. Julian and I are still new.”
“The way he looks at you doesn’t seem new.”
There’s a strange flutter in my chest. “It doesn’t?”
He shakes his head. “He looks at you like he’s done it his whole life and he never plans to stop.”
Both of my parents are total hopeless romantics and growing up watching them love each other so deeply made me want to find the same someday.
“I’m going to tell him,” I say, deciding right then and there that he deserves to know about me having HCM.
The decision has a bolt of fear spearing through me, but only for a moment because my eyes find Julian’s in the crowd.
“I think that’s a good id—oh dear, Maisie just threw up on Cupid.” He sighs, scurrying over to where Carter is trying to gather her hair but she keeps smacking his hands away.
I approach quickly, worried for my friend, and pick up on what she says to him. “Get away from me, you dick. ”
Carter backs away with his hands up, showing defeat. “You know what, Maisie, you could get an award for how good you are at pushing people away. We both know your acting is shit.”
“Carter,” Julian warns, his voice low as he stares at him with a look that tells him to shut his mouth.
He peers over his shoulder and shrugs. “Whatever. It’s not like I give a fuck,” he bites out and walks away, disappearing in the crowd. It’s not true, though. He does give a fuck, and it’s eating him alive.
“Andrea,” Maisie croaks and I rush over to her. “They’re taking pictures.”
I lift my head, my eyes roaming frantically.
That’s when I spot several people with their phones pointed in our direction.
“Julian,” I state, panic dripping into my tone and that’s all it takes before he passes over the stuffed animals to a startled Miles and steps into action.
I’m not sure what I expect him to do, but clearly, he has an idea.
“If my parents see this. . .” Maisie starts, hugging herself to my side as we walk.
“Shh,” I soothe. “They won’t. Julian will take care of it.”
“It was the cider,” she confirms quietly as I spot my dad already pulling up to the curb with the blue minivan.
He hops out and opens the passenger side door, looking at Maisie with false ease and glee. “My wife makes a mean hangover juice. She’ll fix you right up.”
“I’m fine, Mr. Sommers, really,” she lies as I help her into the seat and buckle her in.
“You’re really pale, Maze,” I observe. “Have you eaten anything today?”
She lifts a shoulder, so either she hasn’t, or she doesn’ t remember. Neither of them is good. I give my dad a look that he reads well. He’ll make sure she gets something to eat.
I close her door and slide open the back door. The second I go to lift myself inside the car, she turns around in her seat. “What are you doing?”
I freeze. “I’m coming with you.”
She shakes her head and makes a weak shooing motion. “Go enjoy the festival, I told you I’m fine. Papa bear here will take care of me, isn’t that right?”
“You’ll be as fine as wine in a couple of hours,” he assures her.
Maisie groans. “Please don’t say wine or I’ll barf on your dashboard.”
My dad winces. “Sorry, dear.”
“Maisie, you’re my best friend. I’m coming with you,” I argue.
“Don’t make me get out of this car and hold you down, because I will.”
I huff. “You’re so stubborn.”
“I love you too, now go back to art boy.”
I roll my eyes but do as she wishes. When I go to close the door, I hear a voice behind me say, “Hold it.”
When I look over my shoulder, Carter is there. With a scowl on his face, he slides into the backseat, his eyes fiercely trained on the back of Maisie’s head. She remains facing forward, refusing to acknowledge his presence.
All right, then. . .
Judging by my dad’s face, he’s as confused as me, but neither of us thinks it’s a good idea to say anything about it. “Love you, Maze. See you in a little bit,” I say before shutting the door.
I watch the van drive off with a thousand questions running through my mind .
By the time I get back to where I left Julian, the crowd has dispersed some. He’s talking to a small group of people and when I reach him, he’s tucking a small booklet into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Hey,” I state, grabbing his attention. “Any luck?”
He dips his chin, the spot between his brows wrinkled. “Any pictures or videos of it should never see the light of day.”
“How?” I ask.
He grins, running a thumb over my cheek softly. His warmth draws me closer. “The details do not matter, ma cerise.”
I shake my head, dizzy from how handsome he looks with his pink cheeks from the cold. “You keep surprising me. You're just. . .always so thoughtlessly kind.”
“You know, you used to find it infuriating.”
“Past me was a liar. She believed she’d never fall for you.”
His head tilts. “Are you falling for me, Andrea Sommers?”
I smile, pressing up onto my toes and pulling his mouth close to mine. “Without a parachute.”
“Good,” he murmurs, our lips ghosting. “I was wondering when you’d catch up.”
In the center of the town I grew up in—the town I’ve laughed in, cried in, almost died in, had my first heartbreak in, Julian Havord kisses me.
And suddenly none of that mattered, because, above all else, it’s now the town where I realized I had fallen deeply, madly in love with this man.
IT'S NEARING MIDNIGHT AS I sit at a corner booth in a bar called Salt with Julian at my side and Willa, Mason, and Miles across from us. Christmas music plays in the background as the clinking of glasses and conversation drones around us.
Every so often, Julian will plant a kiss on my temple. It’s like he can’t help himself. I don’t mind it, though. With each press of his lips, I’ve melted further and further into him. I never imagined myself being so comfortable with someone.
It feels surreal to have him in my life. It was only two and a half months ago that I was living alone in a one-bedroom apartment with rats. Now I live in a fifty-fifth-floor apartment overlooking Central Park with a man who would pull the stars out of the sky if I said there were too many.
We’ve grown into such a nice rhythm with our routines. I used to love living alone, but now it’s become something I dread. It’s going to be hard to give up all the time I have now with Julian. I also may or may not have an illogical fear that the moment I move out is when all of this ends.
I know that it’s a ridiculous thought, but I’ll never stop worrying if I’m enough. I’ve never wanted to be anything more than I want to be that for him. He has no idea how wonderful he is and it pains me that I could be another person he sees as leaving him.
Before I can allow myself to make plans with Julian, I need to tell him about my heart disease.
The problem with this is that there is never a good time to bring something like this up.
It’s sort of the thing you blurt and then see what happens.
I worry that it might be a deal breaker with the future he has in mind and I don’t want it to be the reason I lose him.
“Are you okay?” Julian’s voice is a soft whisper against my ear. “You got quiet.”
I nod. “Just getting a little tired,” I say, and it’s not a complete lie. “It’s been a long day.” I wrap both of my arms around his one and rest my head on his shoulder.
He squeezes my thigh and keeps his hand there. The touch is comforting and dismisses my worried thoughts. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
“I’ll yell cinnamon,” I joke, loving the sound of his laugh in response.
“You guys are just the cutest,” Willa gushes and pokes Mason in the rib with her elbow. “Aren’t they just adorable, guys?”
“Yes, babe,” Mason responds with a sigh, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.