“So…” Lou’s voice breaks through the tense silence hanging thickly in the living room, “that was…interesting.”
We’re all crammed into my apartment, and it’s quiet in the way a ticking bomb is quiet–with the promise of an explosion.
Julian finally stops alternating glares between me and Lara to growl lowly, “Are you both out of your damn minds?”
Lara and I exchange a look across the room. My heart’s still lodged somewhere in my stomach, and I can’t find the energy to answer him.
“Answer me!” Julian snaps, eyes burning into mine, then shifting to his sister. “You think this is some vigilante soap opera? You don’t pull a stunt like that and not tell me.”
Lara tips her chin, defiant even though she has a frozen bag of peas pressed to her bruised neck. “Because we knew you’d try to stop us.”
“I would’ve stopped you, Lara.” He steps closer, tone clipped. “You had no idea what the fallout could be.”
“We did,” I say quietly, tucking June a little closer to me on the couch.
She’s trembling, even though I’ve wrapped a blanket around her. She didn’t understand why I was so adamant about her not coming to the wedding–now she does.
Still, I couldn’t protect her completely.
She watched the live stream with Lou; she saw and heard Lucas say all those things to me.
I should have snipped the damn TV cord.
“We just decided the truth was worth it.”
Julian stares at me like I’ve grown horns, and then glares at Lara. “It was worth getting attacked?”
“Yes,” Lara answers firmly.
“And you were just going to drop a nuclear bomb on our family on national TV without so much as a heads–up?”
Lara tilts her head. “Our family?”
He shoves his phone in her face. “Mom’s called me fifty–three times. I have almost as many emails from Dad, and don’t even get me started on Killian and Logan. Fuck!” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, and it’s so odd to see laid back Julian Ellington all stern and reprimanding. “Thank God none of them could come to the wedding.”
Lara shrugs. “Not my fault that nobody thought something was amiss when I asked them not to come. They’re just lucky the wedding wasn’t real.”
Julian exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s trying to push a headache back into his skull. “Jesus Christ.”
My phone buzzes in my lap. For a second, I consider throwing it across the room. But then I see the name and unlock it instantly.
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Chapter 190
Eliza: Hey, I’m home. I’m okay. Just wanted to check on you and Lara.
Aly lungs loosen a little. She’s safe, away from the media circus.
Me: We’re okay. Julian’s yelling. How are you?
Eliza: Shaken. But mostly relieved that it’s over. I love you. We’ll talk soon–my parents have a bazillion questions. Get some rest if you
can.
1 smile faintly. My first real one since the projector dropped like a guillotine.
I look at June again. Her small frame is tense next to me, eyes wide and glossy. I smooth her hair away from her forehead.
“Hey,” I whisper. “I’m okay.”
“But…Lucas,” she whispers. “All those things he said…”
“I know.” I force down the bile that tries to rise. “But they’re just words. Horrible ones, but he never got to do anything, I promise. I’m okay, Summer.”
She nods slowly, then leans her head on my shoulder–still tense.
“Okay!” Lou claps her hands loudly. “I’m ordering pizza.”
We all look at her.
“Like right now,” she says, waving her phone like a white flag. “And beer. Lots of alcohol. April, you’re breaking your no–drinking rule.” She winks at June. “Orange juice for you, hon.”
Julian raises an eyebrow. “You think pizza fixes anything?”
Lou shrugs. “It fixes yelling. And crying. And existential dread. Pretty sure it at least mutes public scandal.”
Julian lets out a sound that’s halfway between a scoff and a reluctant chuckle. “Fine,”—he shoots his sister a look-“but Lara’s paying.”
Lara sticks her tongue out as Lou grins, tapping away on her phone. “Also getting ice cream, because I’m not emotionally stable enough for this night to end without a sweet treat.”
“God bless you, Lou,” I murmur.
Lara leans back into the couch with a groan, kicking off her heels. “My feet are going to sue me.”
“Good,” Julian mutters. “Maybe they’ll get an apology.”
She flips him off without looking at him. “Love you too.”
The tension in the room, like thick fog, finally begins to thin. The couch becomes a crash site of bodies and leftover adrenaline.
Lou turns on some random rom–com to play in the background–not enough to divert, but enough to temporarily distract.
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27
The pizza arrives twenty minutes later. I don’t realize how hungry I am until the smell hits. We all dig in ravenously, mouths too full for judgment.
June laughs first–mouth full of cheese and crust. Lou joins her. Then Lara. Julian tries to hold out, but when Lou nearly chokes, imitating some absurd accent from the movie, even he cracks.
For a while, we pretend the world outside doesn’t exist.
We ignore the flood of calls, the pings of texts and emails and voicemails.
At some point, I silence my phone and shove it under a cushion. I silence my thoughts, too, refusing to think about anything that pertains to the Ashfords–not even Nathan. None of it matters tonight.
Lara ends up with her feet in Lou’s lap. Julian steals the last slice of pizza. June sneaks a sip of his beer and makes a face that has us all in stitches.
And me? I lean back, the blanket over my legs, warmth in my chest that somehow still exists even in the aftermath of what we’ve done.
It’s temporary, I know. The storm is still circling outside, hungry, and we’ll wake up to the wreckage.
But for now, we sit in the eye of it.
And breathe.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
