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"You're making a joke. I'll take that as a good sign." He offers a timid grin.
“Or a sign insanity has fully taken effect. A sane person would run and call the cops.” I bite.
His lips tug down in worry. "Do you still love me?" Julian blurts out, the question feeling as out of place as a snowstorm in July.
Of course, I love him.
"If I didn't, then what we felt wasn't love," I reply. "Love has to withstand tests, and this...this is just another hurdle we've cleared." I exhale, a mixture of relief and lingering frustration flashing on his face. "After all of this, having survived a crazy Russian trying to steal your company’s secrets, secretly dating, brothers who spy, and crazy exes, well, I really think we need a long vacation. Just you, me, and your cock."
He squeezes my hand as his eyes hold me steady, "I can do that, Pumpkin."
But still, there's a gnawing inside me, a puzzle piece missing. A part Julian has been avoiding.“Who asked Theo?” I order him to tell me.
The kitchen suddenly feels like a shoebox, cramped and a bit shabby around the edges—kind of like us after the truth has come out. Worn linoleum underfoot, bearing the battle scars of dropped knives and spilled secrets.
Julian swallows hard, each gulp echoing like the clank of chains locked around my ankles. Then, his words crash into me, an unexpected shove into the icy depths of the deep blue. My feet are encased in cement, sinking too swiftly to comprehend.
“Your brother asked Theo.”
The world, well, it just stops spinning. Everything stops.
I know why Julian saved this for last. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to listen to the afters.
“Henry, your brother, asked Theo if he could watch over you to make sure you’d be safe.”
Chapter 39
Poppy
“Excuse me?” My voice comes out more of a squeak than words.
Julian’s grip tightens around me, grounding me on the earth.“Henry. Your brother had mine keep an eye on you,” he repeats.
He could say it a million times, but I still will never believe it.
No way. I shake my head in disbelief, wrenching my hand free as I stand abruptly. The table's edge jabs into my side, sending my coffee into a mini tidal wave across the surface.“Stop saying that!” I shout, my voice cracking under the strain.“That has to be a lie.” I’ve gone so pale I’d make Casper the ghost look like he had a tan.
“Henry wouldn’t do that. Henry stopped caring about me when I killed Peter.”
“You didn’t kill Peter,” Julian snaps.“You did not kill your brother, Poppy Moore. Stop believing it, stop saying it.”
I ignore him.
Is this a surreal joke?
I try to escape the conversation, the kitchen, the revelation, but the tiny space traps me just as effectively as Julian’s confession. I find myself anchored to the countertop, gripping it for support.
Henry, my brother, has been more ghost than family for the past three years, fading into a silhouette in my life. Shadows don’t watch you; they haunt you.
“I know it’s overwhelming,” Julian starts, his voice gentler this time, his chair scraping against the floor as he stands.“But knowing he was your brother… it’s the only thing that stopped me from confronting him directly. He had good intentions, Poppy.”
“Good?” I scrape my tongue over my teeth. The word tastes foreign on my tongue.
I clutch at my throat, hoping if I squeeze it, it will keep the emotions bubbling up at bay.
“For three years, I was just the girl at the reception desk to Henry. Three years of watching him walk past me, holding on to a sliver of hope he’d acknowledge me. Even if it was with disdain, at least it would be something. Just one look was all I wanted, Julian.”
How can a broken heart continue to break?
