The Edge Of Heaven - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,102

standing there instead. Opening his mouth, he meant to say hello, or maybe to tell him to fuck off, but a sob tore free, and Ilan quickly gathered him close. Julian didn’t put up a fight when Ilan got him to the car, and he didn’t bother asking where they were going. All of his things were still at the cottage, but they were driving away from all of it, and he knew then it didn’t matter.

With his head resting back on the seat, and Ilan’s hand over his, Julian finally allowed himself to fall apart.

Chapter 27

It was saying something that seven days felt like seven years, but Julian allowed himself to acknowledge his actual heartbreak after he was finally home. Ilan had driven him up the coast, then back down again when he’d gotten a text, and he realized they were just waiting for Archer to get his things and leave.

“I shouldn’t care, but…”

“His brother had his people come collect him,” Ilan said gruffly. He drummed his fingers on the table of the little café where they’d gotten pie, though Julian hadn’t done much more than swirl his fork through chocolate and cream. “The fucking governor’s brother. God, if this got out…”

“Don’t,” Julian said tiredly. “We’re not in the business of ruining people’s lives.”

Ilan’s eyes narrowed. “He hurt you.”

And that was true—he had. Those tiny lies might not have mattered to some, but Julian had spent most of his adult life bleeding out from falsehoods that masqueraded as being in his best interest. He was scarred both inside and outside, and he was aching.

But once he’d managed to calm down and let himself have two consecutive panic attacks run their course, he was able to see the reality of it. Archer had done it to be kind—in his own, misguided way. And Julian did believe Archer had fallen for him. It just wasn’t enough to erase the secrets he kept.

The worst part was, Julian would have forgiven him. He might not have entirely understood, and the fact that he was there solely out of pity and not payment would have stung, but not as much as Archer keeping it from him after they’d spent all that time baring their bodies and souls.

Ilan sighed loudly, then ran a hand through his hair. “So, what now?”

And really, that was the question. Julian got back to the cottage, avoiding everyone as he packed up his car and headed home. He was twenty minutes from his driveway when he had another mini-anxiety attack remembering that Archer had parked his car in his garage, and it only got worse when he saw an impatient looking woman standing by his front door, tapping a very pointed toe of a very red heel.

“Julian Pedalino?” she asked.

He shoved one hand into his pocket, curling his fingers around his phone as he approached. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to retrieve Mr. Dawson’s car.” Her voice was low, perfunctory, and matter of fact. She was gorgeous too, with bright eyes and a stern mouth, and he wondered if she and Archer were a couple. Maybe she was in on it. Maybe… “I’m Governor Dawson’s assistant and he’s asked me to pick up the vehicle,” she said.

Julian didn’t try and pretend like he wasn’t relieved, but he turned away quickly in hopes she’d miss most of it on his face. Hurrying to the car, he felt a sudden rush of unexpected sadness that Archer hadn’t come himself. Because of course he hadn’t.

Why would he, after Julian ran?

He pushed the garage door button and stepped aside as the woman brushed past him. She pulled out and avoided his car’s open door with ease, and he watched as the brake lights faded off into the distance. It was the last vestiges of Archer’s presence in his life, and though it had been only six days, it felt like a lifetime.

After three days passed, he wasn’t feeling better. His father had called and texted, worried about Julian being alone for the holiday, but he used every deception in his power to tell Fredric to focus on himself because he was fine.

“You and I both know I don’t get attached that easily,” Julian reminded him, and though his father didn’t sound convinced, he let Julian off the hook.

“I’m sure Ilan will find his way to you,” Fredric said, “and Corinne is planning to bring over cookies.”

Julian smiled to himself, at the idea that in spite of his hurt, the people in his life who

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