43. Jules
FORTY-THREE
JULES
We come home after picking up dinner and I make a beeline for my room to change out of my dress and remove my make-up. I keep the necklace on even with my cotton nightdress because it’s the only thing that’s making me feel anything right now.
I sit down on my bed and drop my head into my hands.
What a mess. I’m not sure if I can even call it a mess, but disaster somehow seems too dramatic.
Either way, I should have known the night would end this way.
If it was just me, I might still be sitting there.
Then again, if it was just me, my mother might not have seen the need to be so vicious.
Hell, there wouldn’t have been a dinner in the first place.
Was their whole plan to tell me they were selling the apartment and to humiliate me in front of Drew?
A knock on my door has me straightening up and I look over my shoulder to see Drew standing in the doorway. He’s changed out of his suit into lounge pants and a t-shirt, his glasses back on.
“You need to eat before you wallow,” he says.
Standing up, I grab my thick robe and pull it on before following him out of my room.
I eat my pizza in silence, hardly even enjoying it, which is hard to do with Delucia’s.
Delucia fixes everything. Breakup, heartbreak, appendix removal, period pain, Delucia will fix it all.
And I can’t fucking enjoy it. My mother has finally done it.
She’s made it impossible for me to enjoy my favorites.
“I’m going to head to bed,” I say, after the dinner’s been had and the plates are in the dishwasher.
“Jules,” Drew says, stopping me.
I turn to look at him, but my eyes don’t go above his neck. The only thing I can hear is my mother’s voice echoing in my ear.
Let’s see how you feel when she almost destroys your career with her lies.
How easy it was for her to say I’ve lied when she just didn’t want to believe the truth. How easy to ignore me when I struggled with intimacy for so long that when people touched me, it felt wrong.
“There’s something I want to show you,” Drew says.
He offers me his hand and for a moment, I just stare at it. The rough, calloused hand which has touched me so possessively, like I was always his. I raise my eyes to his and find him looking at me with such patience that it floors me.
I have no choice other than to put my hand in his. Wrapping his fingers around my hand, he leads me down the hall to the den. I haven’t been there because it’s where he draws and sketches and I want to give him the privacy he needs.
“Promise me you won’t get angry,” he says, reaching for the doorknob.
“Why would I get angry about your occult practices?” I joke. “I might take Bailey and run, but I won’t get angry.”
He sighs in exasperation and opens the door, leading us inside. The lights are off but the blinds are open and there’s soft moonlight flooding the room. It’s enough for me to see the bookshelves before Drew turns on the lamps.
“I have been living with you for months and this is the first time you’re telling me you have a library?!”
The shelves are built into the wall directly across from the door. There’s a reading nook by the window, a fireplace, a desk covered in loose paper with sketches on it, a beautiful Aubusson rug under our feet.
“What the fuck, Drew?” I exclaim. “I can take all kinds of betrayal, but this is too much. You should have stabbed me through the heart, it would have hurt less.”
“I didn’t show you because I didn’t want you to make my life miserable with your gloating,” he replies, rolling his eyes.
“What do you me--?”
He pulls me towards the shelves and my words trail off when I see exactly what books have the place of honor on the middle shelf.
My books. All of my books. Special editions, deluxe covers, translations, minutely different covers depending on the publisher and the country in which they were published.
He has it all.
They’re not tucked away in a corner shelf. He displayed them, front and center, like they’re showpieces.
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!” I turn to Drew, wide-eyed. “You’re obsessed with me. You’ve always been obsessed with me. Now it makes sense why you asked me to move in here with you and why you hated every single place I liked. You wanted me close because you’re dangerously obsessed.”
Drew looks at me flatly and I arch an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain himself. Do I want him to be obsessed with me? Sure, of course, who doesn’t want that? But this obsession goes deep. It goes back years, and I had no idea.
“Do you see what I mean about your gloating?” Drew says drily.
“This isn’t gloating. This is concern for my safety.”
He pulls me against him, dipping his head down to kiss me speechless. I let my body go boneless, melting into him, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders.
“The only reason I’m showing you these is because I want you to remember that you’re magical.
You’ve created worlds with your words people can lose themselves in and maybe heal a part of themselves.
” He peers down at me, his green eyes shadowed.
His steady hand on my back is a reminder of his strength and physicality.
“Someone who doesn’t know you doesn’t get to tell me who you are,” Drew continues. “I know who you are.”
“You used to think I'm crazy,” I remind him.
He almost smiles. “Admittedly, it took me a long time to notice you and I don’t regret a single second of how long it took.”
“I don’t either.” Lifting my hand, I place it on his jaw. “I think taking our time has made us appreciate each other more. Some things just take time.”
With a sigh, I rest my forehead against his chest and Drew kisses the top of my head. It’s time to tell him everything. I’ve been wondering how to bring it up and I’m sure he’s brimming with questions after tonight.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, I look up at him. “I didn’t lie.”
He has the most expressive eyes, so even when his face is blank of emotions, I can see the softness in them. The way they shimmer with trust.
“I know, baby. We don’t have to talk about this, not tonight.”
The fact that he trusts me even without me telling him everything eases a knot inside me. But he deserves to know the truth and I need to tell him. Maybe he’ll feel differently after he hears it, who knows.
“No, I want to. I’ve been trying to gather the courage to tell you and she’s so blatantly brought it up, it seems like the perfect time.”
Drew nods hesitantly. Releasing me, he walks over to the fireplace to light a fire.
It adds some much needed warmth to the room as the shadows suddenly feel too long and the temperature seems to dip.
I pull my robe tighter around me as Drew leads me to the large chair by the windows.
He settles into it and pulls me onto his lap.
Reaching up, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Before you start, I want you to know that nothing you say is ever going to make me regret us or change my mind about you. Do you understand?”
He holds my eyes until I nod in reply. I never thought he’d change his mind, but the immense relief I feel at his words tells me maybe a part of me was worried.
“Do you remember Travis Martin?” I ask quietly. His name tastes like ash on my tongue and I wish I never have to say it again.
Drew’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Of course, he knows who I’m talking about because…
“He’s Boston’s QB,” Drew says tonelessly.
It’s bad enough being traumatized and worse still when you have to see your abuser’s face on your TV, on ads, in the fucking cereal aisle of the grocery store because his face is on the box of your favorite cereal and that’s just another thing he’s ruined because you can’t eat that shit anymore.
And all because the man knows how to run with a ball.
“Yep, Boston’s beloved quarterback who’s the nicest guy in the world and supports all kinds of charities.” My voice is falsely chipper as I strain to keep myself calm. Drew doesn’t say anything, instead patiently waiting for me to continue.
“Do you remember I dated him in college?” I ask.
Drew nods once. His jaw is set in a tight, hard line. I’m sure he already knows where this is going and he’s letting me talk because he realizes how important it is for me to say this out loud to him.
“It was right after Gemma died,” I continue, my voice thinning. “I was not in my right senses. It was the hardest year for me and I barely remember it because I was either drunk or high all the time. I was struggling in all my classes and if it wasn’t for Lavinia, I would have flunked out.”
I take a deep breath. Drew rubs circles on my back, his hand steady.
“At first, being with him was fun. It was a nice distraction and I felt I didn’t have to use hard substances to dull my pain, but I was still using. I guess I didn’t realize exactly how out of it I was or that Travis was taking advantage of my inebriated state.”
My lungs rattle with my next breath and my throat tightens, but I will myself not to cry. I’ve shed enough tears over that monster and he’s not fucking worthy of them. Drew pulls me in a little closer, his hand tightening on my thigh.
“I started to notice something was off after a while. He’d ask me to spend the nights with him and I always woke up with bruises on my body and a distinct feeling like I’d been touched when I wasn’t aware of it.
I never told anyone because I wasn’t sure if I’d consented or not. It would be his word against mine.”
Drew’s body is like rock under mine. I settle my hand on his chest to feel his heart beat, the only reminder that he’s human and not carved from marble.
“One night, there was a party at the townhouse and I went. I was pretty drunk, but when Travis handed me a drink, I pretended to drink it and poured it in the bushes when he looked away. A voice in my head told me I couldn’t drink what he was giving me, even though I was so certain that it was all in my mind. ”
I take a deep breath.