Chapter 33
CHAPTER 033: Not With Me
Luke tries to say my name, gentle and calm, but I'm too far gone. The words spill out of me, raw and unfiltered, every ugly, twisted thought I've been trying to keep down coming to the surface like a wave ! can't hold back.
"Don't you get it? I was the problem. I was the one hanging on to something broken from the start, and everyone else could see it but me. He was with her, Luke. Sleeping with her right under my nose, while kept pretending we could fix things." I let out a bitter laugh, and my voice cracks. "I kept telling myself that we'd get through it, that he loved me enough to stay. But the truth is, I was lying to myself, wasn't I?"
Luke's face is full of something I can't quite read. Maybe he wants to argue, or maybe he just feels sorry for me. His voice is rough, barely a whisper. "You weren't lying, Julie. You trusted him. That's not a crime."
"Isn't it?" I feel my hands shaking in my lap, every word scraping out of me. It hurts. "Then why do I feel like an idiot? Like I'm the one who ruined everything while he was out there building a life with someone else? Do you even know what it's like to give someone everything, to believe in them so completely, and then realize the whole time they were just waiting for a reason to leave? And the worst part? I was the perfect excuse-I was the one who couldn't have a baby, Luke. How convenient is that?"
"Stop it." Luke's voice is louder, and there's an edge to it, a kind of hurt that catches me off guard. "Ryan's a coward, Julie. Don't you see that? He didn't cheat on you because he found someone better. He did it because he's too damn weak to face his own life. It's easier to blame you than to admit he's a failure."
The words are a slap in the face. I let out a long, shaky breath, my eyes glued to the dark road stretching out ahead of us. I can barely see, the streetlights blurring together through my tears.
Luke's voice softens. "You're not the problem. You did everything you could. You tried to make it work, and he took advantage of that. Don't let them twist things around and make you feel like it's your fault."
I look at him, hoping he understands even a fraction of the pain that's been building inside me. "Then why" am I still so angry?" My voice is a whisper. "Why can't I just let it go?"
He looks at me, his eyes filled with a tenderness that cuts straight to my heart. "Because you loved him," he says simply. "And when you love someone, it doesn't just disappear. Not even when they break you. But that doesn't mean you have to keep punishing yourself for his mistakes."
I let his words sink in, and for a brief, fragile moment, there's a spark of something else-a glimmer of hope. But it's faint, barely a flicker, and I'm not sure I trust it yet. I'm not sure I can.
"You don't have to pretend you're okay," he says. "Not with me."
I let my shoulders slump as I lean back in the seat. The anger, the hurt, it's all still there, but somehow, with him beside me, it feels a little less heavy.
For the rest of the drive, we're quiet, the silence not as thick as before but comfortable, almost soothing. And as we pull up to the house, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I don't have to face all of this alone.
Luke cuts the engine, letting out a quiet sigh. Before I can move, he's out of the car, hurrying around to the passenger side.
"I can walk, you know, I say, rolling my eyes as he opens my door with that all-too-familiar smirk.
I know you can walk. But who says you have to?"
172
CHAPTER 033: Not With Me
He's standing so close that I can feel his warmth, his eyes intense and focused on me in a way that makes my heart stutter. For a moment, I brace myself, half-expecting him to scoop me up. Instead, he leans in close, placing a warm, steadying hand on my lap. "I don't want you sad over silly things," he says, his voice low. "Being around sad people-it just saddens me. So, whatever it is you want that's in my power to give you, you ask for it. You want a baby? I'll give you a thousand."
I laugh, but there's something about the way he's looking at me, the way he's not moving, that takes the laughter and turns it into something else. Something far too serious, too real. I want to think he's joking, but his eyes-there's something there, something raw and unguarded.
And before I can even think about it, my hands are on his face, cupping his cheeks, pulling him closer. "What if I want you?"
The words barely leave my lips before his mouth crashes down on mine. It's like a dam breaking, every ounce of tension and frustration and hope pouring out into the kiss. It's wild and unrestrained. He pulls me closer, lifting me effortlessly out of the car, his arms strong and secure around me as he carries me toward the house, all without breaking the kiss.
We stumble into the living room, still tangled together, lips pressed hard against each other as if we could erase everything else-the hurt, the doubts, the pain-in this wild, desperate moment. His fingers trace down my back, his touch setting my skin on fire, and when his hands reach the hem of my shirt, I don't stop him. I don't want to. Everything feels electric, like the world has faded away and all that's left is us
and this moment.
Then, suddenly, a loud throat clearing comes from behind.
I break away with a scream, my heart leaping out of my chest. My hands go to my mouth as I realize someone else is in the room. I look up to see Javier sitting in his chair, arms crossed, grinning like he's just walked in on the best part of a rom-com. "Well, well, well," he says, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Friend, you say?"
AN
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