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25. In Confidence
Cash
It’s 3 a.m. when I awake and find Jules staring at the ceiling. We blew out the candles before we fell asleep in each other’s arms, but the streetlight from the alleyway sends enough illumination into the room to highlight the strain on her face.
“What’s wrong?” I draw a stray hair out of her eyes, wondering if she’s still processing everything I told her after we made love. I held nothing back on the subject of Monica’s duplicity.
Her gaze lands on my hand, sans wedding band, and there’s no mistaking the softening of her expression. I like that Jules has a little possessiveness in her, and though she won’t admit it, the sight of my ring was an emotional barrier between us.
One that was weakening, but it was still there, nevertheless. Now nothing stands in the way of us being together.
“Jules,” I say softly, turning fully onto my side to face her. “Something’s on your mind. Talk to me.”
She lets out a breath, allows several seconds to sneak past, and I can almost hear the gears shifting in her head. “Chris came back after you left.”
My whole body stiffens. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. Nothing like that.”
I expel a breath of pure relief, heartbeat slowing to normal, but it’s short-lived. Fear shoots through my veins, and for an agonizing second, I think that maybe I’ve got it all wrong.
Maybe she doesn’t want to be with me.
But no. That’s not regret blanketing her face. Something happened to upset her, and for whatever reason, she’s only now telling me. I curse under my breath. Maybe if I hadn’t jumped her bones as soon as she returned from dinner, she would have confided in me sooner.
And that’s been the problem since the day I met her; I have zero fucking control when it comes to Jules.
“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m sure.” But even as she denies it, moisture seeps from the corners of her eyes. “Not like you’re thinking, anyway.” A breath shudders off her lips, and I can’t resist pulling her into my arms. One hand at her nape, I tuck the crown of her head under my chin. Our legs entwine as she returns the embrace.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She lets out another shaky breath. “Chris cornered me. The way he was acting…the alcohol on his breath…his anger…”
“What did he do?” I barely keep my voice level. Part of me is already envisioning jumping out of bed and hunting down her ex.
“He triggered a memory.”
I veer back and search her face. “A memory?”
With a nod, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “From the night I slept with Perry.”
Perry, her prior boss in Oklahoma. Dread turns in the bottom of my gut. The following moments are soundless, yet they go off in my ears like a tuning fork. I hold my breath, silently offering her my support, and wait for her to continue.
“I remembered something.”
More seconds are lost—time Jules will never get back. Precious seconds she’ll never forget.
“What did you remember?”
A shuddering sob bursts from inside her. She frees herself from my embrace and winds her arms around her knees. “I think he might’ve drugged me. I just remember being so weak, unable to lift my head or keep my eyes open. I said no…I tried to say no. He…he fucking held me down.”
I sit up, aching to touch her, to hold her. But I hesitate, fingers a hairbreadth away from stroking her back. I have no fucking clue how to navigate this situation, and if I’m not careful, I’ll let the rage toward her former boss send me into a tailspin. She doesn’t need rage, or pity, or my protective instincts.
She just needs me to listen.
I lower my hand onto her shoulder, almost expecting her to flinch, but she doesn’t. “It’s not your fault, Jules.”
