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Julian inched his face close to mine. “Would you want to get lunch with me?” From the looks of it, he was not planning to go to the office. Maybe he was starting to really worry that I’d never get out of our apartment.
There was life out there. The sun was still shining, or at least I imagined it was, despite the heavy curtains blocking it. I’d spent the full five days writing here, in our bedroom, as if the world outside didn’t exist. And it had been what I needed, to finally let go.
He didn’t wait for my response about lunch. “They got Jess this morning. She made it across the border to Mexico. They were headed to Rio with her boyfriend and his brother. We think she manipulated them both to get back at Mark.”
I had never doubted that his team would find her eventually. Still, I felt immense relief. Jess was done, and with her, the chaos she had brought into our lives.
“Oliver’s team took them all out in self-defense,” Julian noted, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “So, there’s nothing left to worry about.” His deep-set eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Really?” I gave him a faint smile.
“Mexican police verified everything,” he squeezed my hand. “Nobody is getting into trouble.”
I was pretty sure it came with a hefty payment on the side.
“Thanks, Julian. She got what she deserved.” I felt no pity. Not after how coldly they’d tried to kill both of us with Sophie. There was a real chance I could have died down there, alone in that rat-infested shaft, next to my friend’s lifeless body. If possible, I never wanted to talk about Jess again.
“Is Sophie’s dad feeling any better?” I switched the subject. Mr. Dickens had requested extra protection for Sophie until they could find Jess, which meant the family house was practically surrounded by a SWAT team.
“Mark proposed—so now he’s got other things to worry about.” A subtle smile played on his lips.
My mouth kicked up for the first time in what felt like days.
“There’s also flowers for you in the living room.”
Judging from his look, these were important flowers.
“From?”
“Why don’t you go take a look?” he gently nudged me.
“Okay?” Feeling a little more awake, I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way out of the room. Walking up the steps, I noticed my breathing felt back to normal again. He didn’t follow, so it got me even more curious why he was leaving me to it.
“I’m sorry,” Valentina blurted out, standing up abruptly from our couch.
She looked herself. A girl with distinct supermodel qualities. A showstopper. A diva.
“I never doubted you,” I offered a small smile.
“Look Lucie, this whole thing with Bradley. It’s so stupid.” She approached with an enormous apology bouquet. “I should have been there for you through everything.”
“Val,” I grinned, “I get it. Love’s painful.”
She let out a frustrated sigh, leaving the bouquet down in my hands. It was big enough to kill someone with a pollen allergy.
“I just— I don’t know why I didn’t see it. Why didn’t I realize how much I was hurting you?”
I sat beside her. “Maybe you needed some space. Has Bradley left already?” I couldn’t help but be curious.
“Yeah, it feels like he left a hole in my chest,” she sulked, her voice softer now. “But this is unrequited love. And it’s almost ironic, Lucie. I’ve always been the one to break boys’ hearts. And now he’s breaking mine. I can’t seem to be able to get him out of my head.” Her face reddened. “Still, it doesn’t justify how I treated you.”
I looked at her, feeling a sharp pang of sympathy. It was hard to see Val like this—vulnerable. She’d always been the confident one, the one who could handle anything. Seeing her like this made me realize how deep of a connection she had to feel. This sucked. I would have wanted to see her happy.
“Lucie, do you know?” She sent me an honest glance, her eyes holding something difficult, something unspoken. She then looked around the room, as if expecting Julian to be nearby. From the looks of it, he was giving us the space to have our girl talk, staying out of earshot.
I shook my head. I wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to say. “No, but tell me,” I squeezed her hand to reassure her that it was okay to share whatever was on her mind. I was grateful that we were starting to find our way back to our friendship.
She glanced around once more as if making sure this conversation was meant to stay just between us. “He’s never told you how he felt because he wanted you to make the choice, tofigure out what was best for you. But I think you deserve to know the truth.” She paused, her voice softer now.