53. Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
JULIAN
Andrea’s entire body tenses, her shoulders curving forward as if she wants to cave into herself.
Everyone’s gone completely silent, not sure what to say or do as she visibly comes undone before all of us.
I’m prepared to comfort her in any way she needs me to, and most importantly, I need to let her know that it changes nothing between us.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she says quietly and quickly walks away, down the steps and heads toward the beach.
Appearing lost, Miles focuses on me when he says, “Sorry, I thought you knew.”
It’s a challenge to swallow my anger as I step forward, my jaw clenching so hard that I hear it crack. “Even if I did, what about her involves you?”
“I’ve known her longer than you,” he sneers, his attitude switching up fast.
“And yet somehow I know her better,” I state, my tone and glare hard. “She knows her limits and is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.” I motion toward Carter. “I don’t see you checking in with him nearly as much as you do her.”
Carter crosses his arms, giving Miles a dirty look. “He’s got a point.”
“You think there’s a reason she didn’t tell you?” Miles asks me. “Maybe she’s just not that serious about you.”
“I will claw your eyes out of their sockets and boil them while you watch.” Maisie lunges for him, but Carter is there to gently maneuver her to his side.
“Maisie, that’s not even possible,” he tells her quietly.
She crosses her arms, glaring daggers at Miles, who at least has the decency to look like he believes her. “Oh, I’ll make it possible. And I’ll eat his fingers like carrots.”
“Now you’re starting to lose me,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.
“You crossed a line, Miles,” Mason tells his brother and Willa nods beside him before casting a worried glance in the direction her sister went.
I turn a hard expression on Miles. He and Andrea have been friends since childhood and not even the most selfish part of me wants their relationship to crumble because of this. “You owe her an apology. You have five minutes before I do something only you’ll regret.”
He studies me for a moment and whatever conclusion he comes to, he dips his chin. I watch him go to her with my heart caught in my throat. I can give him five minutes, but that’s it.
“I can’t believe him,” Maisie says, staring after him in disgust.
“Maybe it was an honest mistake,” Mason tries to comply, but no one wastes any breath agreeing with him.
Willa says, “Her disease is practically her Fight Club.”
“Huh?”
She gives him an exasperated look. “Come on, the first rule of Fight Club is no one talks about Fight Club.”
The clock ticks as I wait with my hands shaking in my pockets as my anger for her tears through me. It’s a battle to rein it in, but I manage to do it by the time I step off the porch and trudge down to the beach.
On my way to her, I try to procure the right words, but words are not my forte; action is.
All I can do is support her in all the ways she’ll let me and learn the words as I go.
I’d study every language in the world if it meant I’d stop getting tongue-tied around her when it matters most. I’ve never been good at articulating my feelings.
They have always landed inside of me in tangles of uncertainty.
I spot Miles and Andrea down the beach, and they seem to be in a heated argument as her hands flail around her. He stands with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans as he listens.
When his eyes find me, I can see the very second his posture changes. Surprising both me and Andrea, he grabs her face and presses his mouth to hers.
My blood freezes over as I watch another man kiss the woman I love.
Her face twists as a sob cracks through her at the same time she shoves his chest. “Miles, no,” she gasps. “Why would you do that?”
“Get away from her,” I tell him, my body taking on a morbid calm as I approach. Like a deer in headlights, his body goes rigid at what he sees on my face. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”
With that, he disperses, leaving the two of us alone.
“I was going t-to tell y-you about it,” she cries, completely distraught.
“I know, baby, it’s okay. Just breathe for me.”
“I can’t.” She starts to gasp for air and my heart starts to gun in my chest, panic draining the blood from my face.
“You can. Look at me,” I demand, grasping her face delicately in my hands.
She does. “He kissed me, but I didn’t want him to,” she tells me and my heart cracks in two.
“I’ll kick his ass later,” I assure her, “but right now, all I care about is you.”
“Why?” she asks, her face splotched in misery.
“Why what?” I murmur, running my thumbs over her cheeks.
She sniffles. “Why do you care about me?”
“Because I believe you.”
“About what?”
“That love can stay, but only if I let it,” I admit the thing that’s been weighing heavy on my mind. “And despite all the faults you think you have, I promise you that none of them get a say in the future I have planned for us.”
She looks up at me with big, tear-filled eyes. “You see me in your future?”
I tilt her chin up with my index finger and place a soft, delicate kiss on her lips. “I see you everywhere.”
“I won’t leave you,” she tells me. “So keep letting it, okay?”
My heart warms and starts to beat in sync with the universe in front of me. I nod.
She’s started to relax some but her breathing still stutters in a way I don’t like. “Can you hold me really tightly?” she requests.
I wrap my arms around her firmly. “I would koala you if I was certain it wouldn’t hurt you.”
She lets out a broken laugh, digging her face into my chest and shivering slightly. “You’re cold, Andrea. Let me take you inside.”
“I don’t want you to let go.”
There’s a fist around my heart again, squeezing. “I won’t. Let me carry you, ma cerise.”
I feel her nod against my chest and I bend to scoop her up from behind her knees, keeping my other arm around her back. She wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly as she burrows her face there.
I ignore the many worried looks tossed our way when we reach the house. When I walk up the steps of the porch, Carter’s eyes connect with mine.
Finally, he seems to understand that I’ll never leave her. Not for this. Not ever .
He opens the sliding glass door so I can step inside the house. Grams and her and Carter’s parents sit at the dining room table and look anywhere but at us. I’m grateful for it because I want to be alone with her and reassure her that nothing is falling apart.
Once we’re back in her room, I try to put her on the bed, but she tightens her hold on me with a groan.
I would smile if I was certain she was okay. Her hands shake with tremors and her clothes are cold and wet from the snow. “I have to take off your coat and shoes.”
Reluctantly, she slowly releases me. When I sit her on the bed, her bloodshot eyes meet mine. I kiss each of her rosy cheeks before unzipping her coat and pushing it from her shoulders. She doesn’t move a muscle, only watches me closely.
After neatly folding the coat and setting it atop the chest, I take off her gloves. I then unclasp the buckles of her boots and unzip them. I pull them from her feet, revealing her fuzzy socks.
She pushes her hands through my hair, her nails dragging across my scalp in a manner that shouldn’t make a grown man go weak in the knees. When I look up at her, she whispers, “You’re fussing over me.”
“You’re easy to fuss over,” I say, giving her line back to her. “I'm going to run the bath,” I tell her as I stand. When I start to walk away, she reaches for my hand, clasping it tightly.
“Julian, I’m fine, really,” she tries to reassure me.
I study her intently. Her red nose, flushed cheeks, and puffy eyes—eyes that try to mask her pain. I caress her jaw with my knuckle. “It’s okay if you’re not.”
Her expression softens when she reaches up to grasp my wrist. She pulls the top of my hand to her mouth, kissing it. “It’s strange,” she starts, staring at my hand as she fidgets with my fingers. “I convinced myself that if I told you about my disease, you’d stop seeing a future with me.”
I sit next to her on the bed, not bothering to get my hand back. “Did telling you about me having BPD make you stop seeing a future with me?” I ask, curious and a little worried at the thought that she may be half-expecting me to have an episode at any moment.
“No, of course not,” she says fiercely, shaking her head swiftly.
I mentally sag in relief. “I will never see you as less than. Ever . Whatever the future has to offer us, I want to see it. I want you, Andrea, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“If there’s anyone in the world who deserves to see the future it’s you, Julian, and I want to be next to you when you do.”
The backs of my eyes burn, the feeling foreign. Somehow I’ve managed to find something I didn’t think was possible. At this moment, I know I’d confront every awful thing that’s happened to me if it makes me a better man for her.
I stare at her now—the woman responsible for breathing life back into my broken soul. How does one explain they love someone with half their soul and already miss them with the other?
“I want to go home,” she tells me .
Home . I’m certain I’m looking at it. “Then let’s go home.”
EVERYONE BIDS US FAREWELL on the front porch. I can tell they’re sad to see her leave again and I make a mental note to plan more trips here. By the time hugs are exchanged, Andrea’s sniffling and blinking away tears.
“You watch over her, boys,” Alice says to her son, Carter, and me quietly and out of the other’s earshot.
“By that you mean watch out . I’m pretty sure she’s thinking of throttling me, so I may steer clear for some time,” Carter states.
He casts a worried glance to where Andrea’s pulled into another hug by her mother.
Unable to keep anything from her, I had reluctantly told her that Carter told me about her having HCM before we left.
Anger came first and then I could tell she felt betrayed.
That was worse and I know Carter agrees.
He’s been biting his nails like mad to the point they’ve started to bleed.
“Just give her time,” I reassure him, though I know it’s going to take a big-ass apology whenever he works up the nerve to give one.
He tosses me a look that says yeah , right . “When I came downstairs, I heard Maisie telling Andrea about an article she read that listed a hundred ways to kill a man.” He shudders. “And they were smiling.”
I laugh and his mother joins in, offering him a pat on the shoulder. “Andrea would never cause you physical harm.”
He scoffs. “No, but Maisie would if Andrea hired her.”
It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or if he believes that’s the truth. He’s being dramatic, but I can’t fault him. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Andrea’s fury either.
“Okay, we should leave now or we’ll miss our flight,” Andrea states, walking over to latch her arms around one of mine.
Carter immediately retreats, darting for the car.
It’s clear he’s determined to not give her a reason to become angrier than she already is with him.
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Wuss,” she mutters.
I kiss her temple, grinning. “You’re scaring him.”
“He should be scared.”
Her tough act is adorable. So is the scowl on her face. When she looks my way, she narrows her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Parce que je t'aime.” Because I love you.
Before her frown can take shape, Maisie’s appearance catches our attention. Her expression is warm as her focus settles on me. “Elle t'aime aussi mais a peur.” She loves you too but is afraid.
My eyes widen in surprise and Andrea’s mouth falls open. “Since when do you speak French?”
“I’ve been taking an online class for an upcoming audition,” she says knowingly. “I also took French in high school.”
Well, fuck. I’m too stunned to know what to say, and this only makes her smile widen.
“Ton secret est en sécurité avec moi.” Your secret is safe with me. She descends the steps, not looking back as she adds, “Pour l'instant.” For now.
“I’m signing up for a class as soon as we get home,” Andrea decides aloud.
There she goes again, effortlessly throwing the word home around. I remember a time when the idea of my place being home brought terror to her eyes. It does something to my heart that can’t be put into words. Whatever it is, I want to feel it forever.
My eyes catch on the lone figure standing off in the distance near the garage and I grit my teeth. Yeah, I’ve been waiting for this.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Andrea and she follows my line of sight.
When I head his way, tugging off a glove, he at least has the decency to look fearful. Good.
I don’t hesitate to throw my fist in his face the second he’s in range. Miles stumbles backward, his eyes flashing to mine with sullen understanding as blood drips from his nose to his chin.
Nothing is said.
Nothing has to be.
Sliding my glove back on, no one says a word as we pile into the car.
“So I’m guessing you’re pretty mad at me, huh?” Carter asks his cousin quietly as he backs his rental car out of the driveway.
“Maisie,” is all Andrea says. Understanding, her best friend promptly smacks him on the back of his head.
Somewhere along the lines, I acquired a family.
I found my people.
Me.
A family.
A home.