Page 53 of Midnight Ink

“I don’t have time to relax. This isn’t a vacation. This is a disaster. We need to figure out what we’re doing. If there’s a chance to go home, we’re taking it.” Not without my bag, but my brain isn’t working right. I can’t think beyond this weird panic in my lungs. What is going on with me?

His face falls enough to twist my stomach.

“I know that,” he says gently. “I’m just saying. It’s not like we need to hop on the first flight. It’s still storming anyway. Don’t worry, okay. It’ll be okay⁠—”

“Except it won’t, Julian. Maddox’s ashes are missing. My luggage is gone. We’re in the middle of a hurricane warning here. I don’t need you to tell me it’s going to be okay. Alright? This is a bad situation. Please don’t make light of it.”

Silence stretches between us.

Julian tips his head forward untying the band of his blue silk bonnet and gently slides it off his head and holds it in his hands looking down at his lap. “I wasn’t trying to make light of this. I know you’re worried about the ashes. I get it.”

“Do you?”

The words hang there, ugly.

He looks at me a moment, searching my face like he’s trying to decipher a code.

“Okay.” He lets out a breath. “I’m just saying. There could be worse things⁠—”

“Than losing the ashes of your dead boyfriend?” My bags are gone, Maddox is gone, and we’re stuck in a shitty run-down house while it’s pouring rain with the chance of a hurricane coming at us. “What could be worse, Jules?”

He looks down at his lap then nods. He stands and moves past me, grabbing clothes out of his bag and heading to the bathroom. “I don’t know where this is coming from. I know you’re stressed out,” he says evenly. “But you don’t get to take it out on me.” The disappointment in his words hurts worse than if he’d just yelled. I almost wish he had. I know he’s too gentle for that, though. “I’m going to shower then grab some coffee. You should take a minute to fix your fucking attitude.”

The door closes softly behind him.

I stand there alone, chest tight, anger draining out of me leaving just guilt in its place.

Fuck.

I sink down onto the edge of the bed and scrub my hands over my face.

Why do I do this? What the hell is wrong with me?

A tiny little voice echoes in my skull.

Because last night felt so good and waking up with him felt dangerous. It’s easier to push him away than to face this.

I’ve hurt Jamie, and now Julian. I don’t want to push him away too.

Julian didn’t say a word to me when he came out of the shower. He left the room. I wanted to give him space, but it’s been about an hour and he hasn’t returned. I need to find him and apologize. I hope he’s still here. I wouldn’t blame him for leaving my ass here alone.

I know he’s angry at me.

I’m angry at me.

None of this is Julian’s fault. None of it. Everything has gone wrong yet he’s still trying. Still showing up and trying to soften the blows for me. Sitting here alone, the truth of what happened is clear, I just don’t want to think about it. I panicked because it felt like I was betraying Maddox. I don’t understand why I feel this way. It’s like my mind is telling me one thing, but my heart is calling me a cheater. My brain is so fucked, and I don’t know what to do to fix it. It’s been seven years, but feeling these things . . . it feels like a betrayal

I need to find my friend.

I take the stairs slowly, guilt sitting heavy in my chest.

I find Alexander at the desk, and he tries to give me a smile but fails. “Your friend stormed out of here a little bit ago. I can hear a rocking chair creak on the porch. I assume he’s there.”

“Mama said he’s sulking on the porch.” Violet grins, a few teeth missing. Her black hair is pulled up into pig tails. She’s drawing on the floor.

“What are you drawing?”

Her little head picks up, and she takes the photo, showing me a childlike drawing of a fairy. “She’s my OC. Her name is Layla. She’s a water fairy. All the people in her village are jealous of her because she’s beautiful and kind.”