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Yes. The answer was right there, as clear as the night now descending outside her window. She didn’t know how long she and Sparks had been walled off in separate rooms, dealing with separate pain, but the reality of her feelings might as well have been a stoplight in the center of so much darkness.
She loved Sparks. She loved Tristan. She loved the woman she was becoming when she was with them. Bold, uncompromising, fearless. Willing to grab hold of her life—and her pleasure—with both hands and just take advantage of every second. With them at her back, surrounding her, helping her to be as strong as she’d always pretended to be.
God, she was so tired of pretending. Of showing one face to the world while on the inside, she was wondering when she’d finally be called out for being a fraud.
A liar, on so many levels.
Without thinking, she nudged aside her guitar and grabbed her phone. And dialed the one person she never should have grown distant from. The one person who understood completely where she’d come from and had battled her own demons—and won.
Her older sister’s voice was incredulous. “Jules? Are you okay?”
Of course Margo would have to ask that question. Because Juliet rarely called Margo these days, and especially not when they’d just seen each other during that shitstorm of a Thanksgiving she’d just as soon forget.
Her parents had been cool to her as always, and more so now because they too had heard that she was seeing a lighting director. If Margo’s rockstar husband wasn’t good enough, Juliet’s boyfriend in the crew was ten times even worse.
At dinner, she’d balled her hands under the table and fought every urge to scream at them that they didn’t know the half. She wasn’t just dating a lighting director, but a chef. At the same time. Fucking them in the same bed.
And better yet? She was grateful as hell that she’d stumbled into them or they’d stumbled into her and set her world on its axis.
But she’d remained silent, for too many reasons to count. At heart, she was still a coward. Still craved her parents’ approval in some dark, shady place. Margo had her own issues with their parents and hadn’t wanted to come to dinner at all—and had, in fact, vowed at a Christmas past never to step foot into their family home again—so Juliet had bitten her tongue so hard it still hurt.
She’d chosen another way to speak up. Another way for the truth to come to light. A chickenshit way, truth be told. It had been an impetuous decision, and one not at all respectful of Tristan’s wishes to the contrary. But she’d been feeling angry and reckless and desperate—so desperate to finally be building something real with two men who got her in a way that defied explanation.
Her desperation and need to finally be honest for once in her life had ruined everything.
“Jules?” Margo asked. “Are you still there? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m here.” Her voice broke. “No, I’m not okay. So far from it, and I don’t know how to make things right again.”
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
Could she? She’d spent so many years by turns in awe of and resentful of her beautiful, accomplished older sister. Too much distance had sprung up between them, and Juliet didn’t want it there. Not anymore.
More than ever, she needed her big sister to tell her everything was going to be okay.
“I didn’t come to your commitment ceremony with Simon in Paris,” Juliet said quietly. “I know you think I flaked out and made up a story about the flight being cancelled just because I didn’t want to go, but that wasn’t it. I mean, I made up the story about the flight, yes, but I wanted to be there. I swear I did.”
Margo let out a baffled laugh. “Where is this coming from?”
“I was in a serious motorcycle crash in Paris with my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected. So ex that it wouldn’t have been worth talking about, if every brick in her past didn’t count as part of the whole that made up who she was.
She was finally starting to understand that.
“Oh Jules. When?”
“A long time ago. At least it feels that way, but in chronological time, not all that long. But your commitment ceremony was too soon after the crash for me to go back. I just couldn’t. I was having panic attacks at the thought of being in Paris again.” Tightly, she shut her eyes. “I’m so glad you and Simon decided to get married for real at the orchard with Nick and Lila. That you did another ceremony I could be a part of. But God, I always felt so guilty I hadn’t been there for you the first time. That’s my job. You’re my sister.”
Margo made a sound that seemed suspiciously like a sniffle. “I’m so sorry you were hurt. I never guessed—never could imagine anything dimming your shine for even a moment. You were always the star in the center of everything. Thinking of you hurt and scared wrecks me.”
“I made the choice to handle everything on my own. It’s not your weight to carry, but I needed you to understand. Nothing should’ve ever kept me away. Not when you needed me.”
“I did need you, but you came to the wedding. You stood up for me there. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
Juliet took a shaky breath. “Even without me in Paris, you had Simon. The man you love. He was more important than anyone else.”
“It’s not like there’s a finite amount of love.” Margo let out a laugh. “I have more than enough for Simon and you, and my crazy band and—Jules?”
“Yeah.” Juliet bowed her head, giving in to the tears she’d felt pooling in her eyes. Ignoring them hadn’t worked. Now they were being really annoying and slipping over her cheeks and all the way down her throat, wetting her shirt. “I’m still here.”
