“But what?”
“I…I…” Her shoulders lifted and lowered a few times like she was gearing up for whatever she was about to say.
I braced myself, but no amount of mental calisthenics could’ve prepared me for what came next.
“I don’t love you,” she said, quiet and quick. “I’m not sure I ever did.”
At that confession, all of my muscles, ligaments, and joints seemed to decompress, folding in on top of each other, the blow taking at least an inch off my height. Maybe two.
These past months without her, I hadn’t been living. I’d merely been surviving. I’d thought I loved Selene and Maggie, but it was nothing compared to what I felt for Jules. Not even close. And the hope of reconciliation was the only thing that had kept me going.
If I didn’t even have that… how would I ever be happy without her?
You won’t be.
My heart refused to accept that reality, and my self-preservation reflexes kicked in. She could be projecting. She was rejected her whole childhood. You left, and she’s scared you might leave again.Maybe. You need to find out for sure.
But how?
Just then, I spotted her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. I pushed the hurt to the edges of my heart, hunched down, and padded across the floor, praying I didn’t step on a squeaky board. Then, in one swift move, I swiped it.
“Hey!” She whipped around. “Give that back.”
“Not until I see something.” I held it above my head, attempting to tap on Find My.
“No!” She jumped up, hanging off my bicep, her feet swinging, trying to pull my arm down. “That’s private!”
I wrenched my arm free. But this time, she climbed me. Like a tree. Literally.
“Woman!” I yelled as her nails dug into my shoulders and the toes of her tennis shoes ground into my kneecaps. “Get!” I wiggled my shoulders, trying to shake her loose. “Off!” Then, I whirled around fast, like a Hold-N-Spin.
It worked.
Unfortunately, on the way down, her knee drove straight into my groin.
A white-hot bolt of agony shot through my man parts and straight up my spine. My body folded in half, and I dropped where I stood, gagging as the world tilted and my stomach almost staged a full evacuation. Eyes squeezed shut to block out the light, I lay on my side in a fetal position, trying not to die.
“Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.” Juliette fell to her knees, her hair falling around my face. “Are you okay?”
I blew out my breath and wheezed, “Bye… bye… Weston.”
“Oh, Griff.” She traced circles over my shoulders. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Sure—” I groaned, “—you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” she promised, resting her head on my shoulder. “Why can’t you let this go? Just give me the divorce.”
I didn’t answer—not only because I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I was also afraid to speak. I was afraid to even breathe. Because Jules was snuggling against me, taking care of me, and I didn’t want her to stop. So I just lay there, breathing through the pain—in my groin and my heart. And she lay there, her fingertips tracing over my back.
The longer we lay there, the lighter and slower hercurlicues became. Then her hand stopped moving altogether, and I recognized the rhythm of her breathing. It was the quiet in and out she made when she was asleep.
I was afraid to check. But at least five minutes later, when my arm started going numb, I knew it was either roll over or risk amputation. So I ever so carefully rolled onto my back, shifting her head to my chest. Yeah, she was out.
I pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and closed my eyes, hanging onto the moment as long as I could. I had no idea what kind of wood this flooring was, but it had to be the hardest thing they sold, just shy of concrete. Every joint in my body screamed to get up. But I’d take it. If I got to hold her like this, I’d happily fossilize right here.
Something buzzed, and I looked over to see Jules’s phone, barely within reach. I grabbed it, hit end call—it was just a telemarketer, probably—and finally tapped on the cursed app. Sure enough, my location was at the top of her list. Our dots were making love, the same way I wished our bodies were.
My chest loosened. If she really didn’t love me, she would’ve deleted me like she’d said. Wouldn’t she?
