Page 62 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

“Julian?”

There is no guilt in her face. She looks surprised to see me. For one second, hope claws its way back into my chest. Then Elliot rests one hand on the doorframe beside her, and I remember every word he just said.

“I came to see you,” I say, though my voice sounds distant to my own ears.

She steps closer to the door.

“Why?”

Because I can’t function without you. Because walking away felt like cutting off a limb. Because I thought I was giving you time to realize what we have.

None of those answers are appropriate.

“I made a mistake coming here. It seems you have moved on,” I say instead.

Elliot watches her reaction closely.

Her eyes flick to him and back to me. The space between them is small, and that really pisses me off.

Elliot rests his hand lightly against her back, and she doesn’t seem to dislike the claim he’s making.

“I understand,” I say.

Because I do. Or maybe this hurts less than begging her to pick me and watching her refuse.

Elliot’s words echo whether they’re true or not. She chose him. She moved on.

“Julian.”

I step back before she can finish.

“I hope he makes you happy.” Keeping my voice steady costs more than I let show.

Elliot's expression shifts into a cocky smirk. Satisfaction flickers behind it.

Lee takes a step toward me. “That’s not⁠—”

I turn away before she says more.

The hallway feels longer than it did when I arrived. Outside, the air is cold enough to burn my lungs. I stand on the sidewalk for a moment, trying to recalibrate the shape of my life without her in it.

She’s moved on with her partner.

I walk away even though it crushes me.

“Elliot told me the truth when he reached out for help,” I say. “He admitted he lied because you were still crying over me, and he was selfish enough to want me gone.”

Her face crumples. “I should’ve cleared it up before you left. Julian, I’m so sorry.”

“Is it pathetic that if you had cheated with him, I wouldn’t have loved you any less?”

She shakes her head and searches my face for understanding.

“Ettie, I love you. Nothing could make me stop. Not when I was angry. Not when I believed his lies. Not when I thought I already lost you.”

“I don’t deserve you, Julian Jameson.” Her voice trembles, but there is a tiny thread of steel beneath it now. “But I’m keeping you. Always.”

My lips press to hers, and my hands tangle in her hair. Her lips part for me, and I moan into her mouth. Nothing tastes like her, and I only want her flavor on my tongue.