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We sit in silence, the sound of waves lapping against the shore creating a soothing backdrop. I wonder if I have overstepped, but then Julian lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. “She spent her final days here,” he whispers.
I glance over my shoulder at his family's home in Lake Tahoe. Calling it a house is an understatement. When we first arrived, I thought it was a small resort. The massive structure resembles a cozy log cabin designed for a giant, complete with seven bedrooms, a pool overlooking the lake, a gym, and even a small cottage for the house manager. The view is priceless, a true slice of heaven on earth. I can understand why his mother chose to spend her final days here.
“I…” Julian struggles to find the right words, glancing down as if embarrassed. “I know this sounds odd, but I wanted to bring you here because…”
“Tell me,” I urge him, pivoting in the sand to face him.
“I know you’ll never get the chance to meet my mom, and I’ll never get to meet your parents either,” he says. This shared bond is something I despise because we both have suffered, but I also cherish it because we can relate in ways others can’t.
“I just wanted a part of my mom to meet you. That’s why I wanted to bring you here, Pumpkin. It’s as close to meeting my mom as you’ll get. She loved this place.” His voice is heavy with a mix of apprehension and grief.
I lean forward, my knees sinking into the cool sand, and gently cup his face. “Thank you for bringing me here and for sharing this part of yourself with me,” I whisper, my voice barely above the hush of the waves. I kiss him softly. His arms envelop me in a warm embrace, his heartbeat steady against my cheek, a comforting rhythm in the tranquil night.
Resting my cheek against his heart, I find the courage to unveil my own past. “My parents died in a car accident,” I begin, feeling his fingertips gently pressing against my skin, offering silent support. “They had just signed a huge contract with the government for their cybersecurity company, specializing in advanced malware threats. That deal... it was their big break; it solidified people's trust in them.” A wistful smile tugs at my lips as memories flood back. “I remember how overjoyed they were. Peter, Henry, and I went out and got this premade cake with balloons to surprise them when they got home.” I close my eyes, savoring the sweet nostalgia. “Peter insisted on blue icing – it stained our teeth blue,” I chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the lapping of the waves.
“The joy was short-lived,” I continue, my voice catching. “Not long after, they were driving home late from the office when a truck driver hit them. He wasn’t drunk, just overworked, trying to meet a deadline.” A lump forms in my throat as I swallow down the rising tide of emotions. “They said their passing was instant. I suppose that's supposed to be a consolation.” My voice trails off, lost in the vast expanse of memories and sunset-lit water. The gentle rhythm of his heart under my cheek is the only anchor in the swirling sea of my thoughts.
“I still have my parents' house,” I tell him. “I lived there for years after they died and after Peter, my brother, passed away. I surrounded myself with their memories, thinking it was helping, but Harper was right; it was holding me back. That’s why I moved, that and…” A heavy sigh escapes me as Henry’s face flashes in my mind. Julian's arms tighten around me. “After Peter died, Henry, my other brother, and I had a falling out.”
“Why?” Julian asks voice gentle and cautious as if testing thin ice before stepping on it.
Do I lie? How can I not?
I try to be as honest as possible, knowing my next words might drive Julian away.
In the beginning, I asked Julian if he was the good guy, the hero of our story. What I didn't reveal was that I wasn't exactly the 'good character' myself. I was someone forced into deceit, shaped into someone I never wanted to be, all because I naively gave my trust to the villain. And now, even as I step into this new chapter of my life with Julian, I can't shake off the feeling of being entwined with my past, still feeling the pull of those old, dark threads that refuse to let me go completely.
Chapter 45
Poppy
My heart races, outpacing the peaceful cadence of waves splashing against the shore. “Because,” I state.
Julian senses my fear, his fingers gently rubbing my arms in an attempt to soothe me.
“Because it’s my fault my brother Peter died. I killed Henry's twin.”
There. I've said it.
“Poppy,” Julian says, his voice deep with shock. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is.” I rebut. I’ve worn this blame like a noose around my neck. Each time Henry walked past me without even an eye glance, the rope tightened. For three years, I just wished it would suffocate me, so I didn’t have to bear it.
“I was at a party. Henry was there, too. It was at my ex’s house,” I recall, with a snort. “He had a huge house, and once a month, he threw these massive parties in the pool house. I say 'pool house,' but it was bigger than an average family's home. Anyway, things between my ex and I were getting tense, and,” Here I start weaving lies into the truth, “we had a fight, and I wanted to go home. I could have found Henry, but Alice Davis was there, and Henry had the biggest crush on her. I didn’t want to ruin his chance.” That part is partially true. Henry was flirting with Alice, but he would've come in a heartbeat if I asked. He also would've confronted Andrew if I had told him what happened. Henry thought with his fist after our parents died. Peter didn't.
“So, I called Peter. I was crying, and naturally, like any older brother, he came rushing to me.”
Continuing is hard, but I need Julian to know. “Peter’s car crashed just outside of the guard gate to the neighborhood.”
He was so close, and now...he's so far because he's dead, because you killed him.
"Peter always wore his seatbelt, except that night... because of me. He was rushing to get to me and wasn't thinking. I ran from the house to the main guard gate. I didn’t want Henry to know I was upset. I heard the crash in the distance, and I just knew it was Peter. I knew as soon as I heard the screeching of tires.” I grip my stomach. "I could feel it deep in my gut; it was like a bomb detonated inside of me."
“Poppy,” Julian readjusts me so I’m cradled to his chest.
“Peter ran a stop sign and hit another car. They all walked away fine, but Peter never got to walk away; he always wore his seatbelt. Peter was the responsible one. The last thing he heard was my voice crying; I made him rush to me.” My throat feels like it’s closing, “I took Henry’s twin from him.”
Julian cradles me to his chest, his voice both soothing and firm. “It was an accident, Poppy. Not your fault.”
