by T. K. Leigh
“I love you!”
He stills, his body stiffening as my declaration hangs in the air. The silence is so penetrating, you could hear a pin drop from a mile away. My heart thumps in my chest as he remains motionless, staring at the door.
“What did you say?” he asks in a soft voice, peering over his shoulder at me.
I advance toward him, my eyes unwavering. “I said I love you.”
“No, you don’t.” He digs his fingers into his hair, yanking at it, pained at the mere notion. “You can’t.”
“I didn’t want to believe it at first, either, but I can’t avoid it anymore. I’ve fallen in love with you, Julian.”
“No. You’re just in love with the idea of me. None of this is real. That hasn’t changed just because we slept together.” He opens the door, hurrying away from me, but I follow him into the hallway.
“Aren’t you tired of it all?” My words carry through the empty space. I can make out the typical morning sounds of the household staff cleaning and preparing breakfast, but I make no attempt to lower my voice. “Aren’t you fucking exhausted of constantly running away from anything that is real? I know I’m exhausted watching you do everything you can to remain closed off to everyone who actually matters. Everyone who cares about you. Everyone who loves you.”
He pauses, his lips curling, his fists clenched. A few weeks ago…hell, a few days ago, I would have dropped it, thinking it wasn’t worth the argument. But I’m tired of this. Of him pushing me away the second I open up. I won’t do it anymore.
I approach on timid steps, grateful when he doesn’t try to escape. “Take it from me… It is exhausting pretending to be someone you’re not just so you’re accepted. I did it for twelve years of my life…until you showed me I was good enough as myself.”
“This is who I am.” He remains in place, but his voice lacks any conviction.
“No, it’s not. I know it’s not. I don’t believe the Julian Gage who asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend for the summer is the real Julian Gage. I don’t believe the only reason you needed me to pretend to be your girlfriend was to get your project up and running. I see how you are. You’re resourceful. You already have hotels in several countries, so you know how to navigate all the bureaucratic bullshit.”
He shakes his head. The more I speak, the more tension seems to mount inside of him.
“So that got me thinking. Why would you possibly want me on your arm? Then it struck me. You only did it because you thought it would help you be accepted into these people’s inner circle. That’s all. Not for some project, as noble a cause as it is. You just wanted them to accept you. Why? Why do you care? Why is this so important to you? Why, Julian?!”
“You wouldn’t understand!” he shouts back. “You don’t know what it’s like being an outcast, of never being accepted!”
“So… What? You decide it’s worth sacrificing happiness and who you are just so some asshole one-percenter will talk to you? That’s not who you are. I know it. You’re not that self-centered. I saw pieces of the real you through the cracks in your armor.”
“No. No. No.” He continues shaking his head, his body trembling with the force of his anger.
“That’s the real Julian Gage!” I state over the lump in my throat, my voice becoming louder as relentless tears fall down my cheeks. I let them fall. At least I’m not hiding my feelings. At least I’m finally being true to myself. “Not this person standing in front of me lying through his teeth because he’s too scared to admit he has feelings for someone. That, God forbid, he might just love someone!”
My words must have hit a sore spot because he punches his fist against the wall. The noise startles me and I jump, my heart ricocheting into my throat.
“You can’t fix me, Evie!” he thunders, his eyes red as the vein in his neck strains against his skin. “No one can. So stop—”
“I don’t want to fix you!” I scream, my chest heaving through my heavy sobs. The house has grown eerily quiet as my words seem to echo against the lifeless walls. Drawing in a deep breath, I lower my voice. “I just want to love you. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
“Because love doesn’t last,” he chokes out. “The second you get a glimpse at who I really am, at all the shit I’ve done, you will run for the hills. So let’s save each other the hassle now and cut our losses. You wanted a firm end date to our agreement. We’ve reached that point. It’s come to an end.”
“Is that truly what you want? To end it? To walk away and keep pretending to be someone else?” I look at Julian through my tears, desperate for him to admit he’s never felt anything as real as he has with me.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as the harshness in his expression softens. “This is all I know.”
I hang my head low, emotionally and physically exhausted. I want to shake him out of this, to slap him and make him wake up. Will it work? Is it worth it? I don’t know if I’m strong enough to pull him from the depths to which he’s already fallen.
When I don’t say anything else, he takes a step back. “Goodbye, Guinevere.”
I float my eyes to his, not saying anything. I just stand there, studying the apprehension on Julian’s face. He starts to turn from me, but hesitates, a flicker of indecision in his eyes. If this is what he wants, I’m not going to beg him to reconsider. Not anymore. I’m too drained to stay on his path of self-destruction, fighting against hurricane-force winds that will only pull me under and drown me. I won’t do that to myself. I don’t deserve it. Julian taught me that.
With a heavy sigh, he eventually turns from me and continues down the hallway. Just as he’s about to disappear into his room where he can hide away from the world, I call out one last time.
“You were right.”
He pauses, lifting his head, his eyes filled with sorrow.
“I do deserve better than you.”
He nods, his shoulders falling.
“You deserve better than you, too.”
I allow my words to linger for a moment, then step into my room, slamming the door behind me. Throwing myself onto my bed that still smells of Julian, I hold out hope that he’ll change his mind and knock on my door.
He never does.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“You seriously don’t want any of this stuff?” Nora asks in disbelief as she sorts through hangers filled with the clothes I was treated to over the summer. “Why would you want to get rid of it?”
As much as I’ve wanted to share what happened between Julian and me, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. Yes, Nora and Chloe are aware we fooled around that first weekend, but I insisted that was the only time. I never even told them we’d kissed. And often.
When we all got together the Tuesday after Labor Day and they asked about my final weekend with Julian, I lied and said it was just like every other weekend, that I was thrilled to put the summer behind me and focus on my possible promotion. I must be a good actress because neither one questioned me, not even when my phone would ping with an incoming text and I’d jump to my feet in the hopes it was Julian apologizing for his behavior.
It never was.
Now, nearly two weeks later, I’m beginning to think I’ll never hear from him again. Which is why I need to get all these clothes out of here. Not only do I have nowhere to store them in Chloe’s tiny apartment, but I can’t bear to look at them. Every time I do, the memories of my time with Julian come rushing back.
Like the way he looked at me the first time he saw me in that navy blue-and-white polka-dot two-piece. The way his mouth felt against mine the first time we kissed when I was wearing a beige maxi skirt and loose white tank. And the way we danced to him singing “Moon River” when I wore the stunning gray ballgown on our last night together.
“It’s not my style,” I say. “Take all the clothes you want. Or shoes.” I gesture to another trunk filled with dozens of shoes I only wore once. “Jimmy Choo. Manolo Blahnik. Christian Louboutin.�
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Nora’s eyes widen as she darts toward the trunk, throwing it open. “You have Christian Louboutins?” A peacefulness crosses her expression as she pulls out a pair and examines the signature red sole.
“Take them. We’re the same size.”
She grins dreamily. “I love you, Evie. If I swung that way, I’d totally whore myself out for you.”
“I love you, too, Nora.” I return her smile, although it’s not as full as normal. How can it be when I’m surrounded by memories of Julian? And this is precisely why I need all this stuff out of here. I never wanted it to begin with. I purposely left them at Julian’s place, but the day after I returned to Manhattan, a delivery man appeared on my doorstep. I’d hoped Julian had sent flowers to apologize for his behavior. Instead, he had the contents of my room packed up and delivered here. No note. No apology. Nothing.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” I ask Chloe.
Standing, she gestures down her petite body. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re both at least six inches taller than me. And have boobs. Whereas I, well… I’m lucky to fit in a B cup most days.”
I nod toward a smaller trunk. “There’s jewelry. And sunglasses. That stuff will fit. Check out some of that.”
Chloe’s hesitant at first, but her curiosity eventually gets the better of her. I lay back on my bed as I watch my two friends pillage the spoils of my own war.
“You really don’t want any of this stuff?” Chloe inquires yet again, a hint of skepticism in her tone.
“I really don’t want any of that stuff,” I confirm for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Even this?”
I glance up as she pops open the lid on the signature blue Tiffany’s box, revealing the exorbitant necklace Julian gave me.
Nora’s eyes zero in on the brilliant stones encrusted in the intricate neckline, leading to an obscenely large yellow diamond. “Holy fuck! Is that real?”
Chloe lifts the necklace out of the box. Instantly, her gaze settles on a sheet of paper beneath it I hadn’t noticed before.
“What is it?”
“Certificate of authenticity,” she replies, reading it. “Fifty carats worth of diamonds. The stone is a forty-carat fancy vivid yellow diamond, with an additional ten carats of flawless diamonds in the neckline.” She looks up, meeting my eyes. “Appraised value…one million.”
I try to hide my utter shock at her words. I knew it was an expensive piece of jewelry, but I estimated maybe a hundred grand or something like that. Shows you how educated I am about the value of jewelry. But a million dollars? I can’t even wrap my mind around that amount of money. Does it matter? Chloe routinely reminded me of Julian Gage’s net worth during my time with him. A million dollars barely puts a dent in it. It’s akin to most people buying flowers for their loved one. All Julian cared about was making an impression. He used me to do so.
“Take it. I don’t want it.”
Chloe and Nora share a look before turning their inquisitive stares on me. They simultaneously advance toward me, sitting on the edge of my bed in concert.
“Okay. What the hell is going on?” Nora starts.
“You haven’t been yourself since Labor Day,” Chloe adds. “And now you want to give me a necklace from Tiffany’s worth a million dollars? Are you out of your fucking mind, Evie? How do you even have a necklace worth a million dollars? I mean, the rest of this stuff is nice, maybe worth a grand here and there, but a million dollars? What aren’t you telling us?”
“That she has a magic pussy,” Nora jokes.
“You guys know everything,” I argue, my face heating as I try to convince them the lies I’ve told are true. “Our entire relationship was for show. Julian needed a companion to conduct business and make deals over the summer months. And like you mentioned, Chloe, this was a great way to clear my mind and help me forget about Trevor. We’d agreed it would only last through Labor Day. It’s after Labor Day, so the agreement has ended. Plain and simple. Nothing more to tell.”
They both squint, crossing their arms. Chloe opens her mouth. I’ve seen that look before. The look of disbelief mixed with annoyance, the one that means she’s about to unleash an interrogation worse than I’d be subjected to if arrested for murder. Thankfully, the buzzer rips through the space and she snaps her jaw shut, pointing a finger in my face.
“This isn’t over. You’re not off the hook just yet.”
She jumps up from the bed and leaves to answer the door. I watch her disappear into the living room, then blow out a long breath. When I shift my eyes to Nora, forcing a smile, she hardens her glare.
“That’s right, Evie.” She pinches her lips, trying to frown.
I stifle my laugh at the idea of Nora being some badass bitch. She doesn’t even like it when I kill spiders, preferring to set them free instead. This woman doesn’t have a bitchy bone in her body. She’s all about peace and tranquility, the balance of mind, body, and spirit. She is the typical yoga instructor. So to see her trying to appear angry and annoyed only causes me to giggle.
“You’re not off the hook yet.”
“Oh, Nora. I almost forgot!” Scrambling to my feet, I head to one of the racks and flip through the hangers, grabbing an adorable shoulder dress in a subdued tropical print. “I’d set this aside for you earlier. I thought it would be great pre-wedding wear.”
She protests at first, but stops when I say wedding, allowing me to pull her off my bed. Since her engagement, I’ve learned discussing her upcoming nuptials to Jeremy is a surefire way to distract her. Normally, I hate discussing her wedding. Now it’s my saving grace.
“Don’t you think?”
Holding the dress up to her body, I spin her so she’s facing the full-length mirror propped against the far wall that’s surprisingly not obstructed with the array of trunks and boxes filling the space. The fire department would have a field day if they ever saw what a fire hazard it is.
“You’re right!” Her voice oozes excitement as she flips the switch from suspicious friend to glowing bride-to-be. “This would be great for the rehearsal dinner! Did I tell you?”
She whirls around to face me in full wedding planning mode. I widen my eyes, feigning enthusiasm.
“We’re doing it at a luau. Figured everyone’s making the trip just for us, we should make sure they all get a taste of the islands.” She leans toward me. “And there are dancing Samoans blowing fire. Maybe you can nab yourself a hot local while you’re there.” She winks, then turns back to the mirror.
“The only hot local I’m interested in is Jason Momoa, but I think he’s already spoken for.” I smile, expecting Nora to swoon with me over his tattoos, which I know she’s a complete sucker for. Instead, her body becomes taut, her breath catching as her eyes widen.
I look into the mirror, wondering what could account for her sudden change in demeanor. The instant I do, my heart drops at the reflection of Julian standing in the doorway.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Guinevere,” Julian begins in a shaky tone as I remain frozen in place, barely able to breathe. My mouth agape, a heaviness settles in my stomach. Ever since I walked away, I hoped for this moment. I didn’t think it would actually happen. Things like this only happen in fairy tales.
When Nora squeezes my arm, I snap out of my shock, floating my gaze to her. She gives me an encouraging smile, nodding. I suppose that’s the thing about best friends. I don’t have to tell them a single word. They’ll still see the truth, despite my lies. Just like I see the truth in Julian’s eyes right now…despite his lies.
Slowly, I turn around. The confident, self-assured man I spent my summer with is nowhere to be found. He looks like a different person, a shell, broken, defeated.
“You know what, Nora?” Chloe’s voice cuts through the tension in the room. “I just realized I haven’t seen any of the invitation samples you received.”
“I thought you didn’t care which one I chose. That—”
“Wha
t kind of maid of honor would I be if I didn’t give you my honest opinion on which type and style of paper will eventually end up in a landfill?”
“But I don’t have them with me. I left them at my apartment. You said you wanted one day where I didn’t mention the ‘w’ word.”
“Nora…,” Chloe says through clenched teeth, glancing between Julian and me, urging her to put two and two together.
It takes a few seconds, but realization finally washes over her. “Oh! I get it.” She winks conspiratorially. As she walks past Julian, she pauses, lifts herself onto her tiptoes, and leans toward him. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” He laughs slightly, then refocuses his unwavering stare on me. “I have a feeling I’ll need it to fix the mess I’ve caused.”
Chloe and Nora glance back at me, giving me an encouraging look before making their way out of the apartment, leaving me alone with Julian. Neither one of us moves for several long moments. I want to ask why he’s here, but I keep my mouth closed, simply staring at him with a blank expression. I’ve already said everything I wanted to. The ball’s in his court.
Anxious from the awkward tension, he shoves his hands into his pockets, tearing his eyes from mine as he takes in the disaster that is my room. With a furrowed brow, he walks past me and toward all the trunks. My lungs expand as I inhale the aroma that is quintessentially Julian, memories flooding back.
“What are you doing with all your things?”
He stops in front of a box labeled GARBAGE and reaches in, retrieving the familiar polka-dot two-piece. I’ve always been self-conscious about my body…until I met Julian. I’d never felt as beautiful as I did when he first saw me in that bathing suit…except it wasn’t real.
“They’re not mine,” I say dismissively. “I have no need for them, so I told Nora and Chloe to take anything they’d like before I donate what I can to a women’s shelter. I figured you’d appreciate that.”
He faces me, narrowing his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he spies the open Tiffany’s box and flinches. “All of it?”