The Edge Of Heaven - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,3

his heart. “Do you love him?”

It was the first time anyone had asked him that—like they thought someone with a crooked mouth, hearing aids, and a soft belly would be lucky a man like Bryce looked twice at him and nothing besides that should matter. They just assumed Julian was tripping over his feet to keep a man like Bryce in his life, and maybe—at least at first—they were right.

“I do.” The words came easily enough, but there was no real feeling behind them, and Julian felt his stomach twist with the unrealized lie. “He’s a good guy. I mean, you like him, right?”

Fredric said nothing for a long time, then he sighed and brought his wine glass toward his mouth, but he didn’t drink. “Your mother says he’s very attractive.”

Julian flushed. “Um. He is.”

“And that’s…important to you, isn’t it?”

His father had never hesitated to tell the story about how he fell in love with Jacqueline at first sight. He was sixteen, and she was beautiful, and commanded the room. And his mother never hesitated to say that she was grateful he lost his sight back when she was at her peak. Julian always thought it was a cruel thing to say, but it was very much like his mother, and his father only ever smiled softly when he heard it.

“He’s nice,” Julian eventually defended. “He likes me.”

“You’re likable,” Fredric returned, and Julian’s argument was on the tip of his tongue because he wasn’t. He was neurotic and difficult and tiring. He was picky and his anxiety made him argumentative. But Bryce found reasons to stay in spite of all those things, and Julian figured he wasn’t going to find much better than him.

Fredric didn’t try and talk him out of the marriage, but he did talk him out of moving home after his mother suggested it for the second time, and Julian was close to caving because he just didn’t want the fight. So, he kept his condo, and the divorce went through. His mother’s insistence on a prenup was the one thing he’d always be grateful for, though she cared more about his money than he did.

Bryce walked away with nothing except the promise for a lot more at Ashton’s feet, and now Julian was being dragged, kicking and screaming, to watch it all happen. And that night he’d have to sit at a table and watch Bryce simper and preen and show off a ring that was probably far more expensive than the one Julian had given him. And the wedding plans would be grander, and there was probably a prenup that offered him a couple million because there was no way Bryce would make that same mistake twice.

And Julian would have to smile, and say nothing, because he wasn’t going to give them the last laugh.

Chapter 2

Turning from side to side, Julian determinedly didn’t look over at his laptop screen because he knew Ilan’s face was going to be judgey and annoyed. He was in his office, on a break between rounds, and he’d ignored three pages so far to help Julian get ready for the dinner.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Julian said, tucking in the front of his shirt. Ilan had spent the last half hour saying no to every outfit Julian chose because it wasn’t hot enough to make Bryce regret his decision to leave. “Nothing I wear is going to make me hot enough to stand against Ashton’s millions.”

“Someday you’ll appreciate your assets,” Ilan argued. “And I don’t mean the ones sitting in your bank account.”

Julian fought the urge to roll his eyes as he grabbed the brush from his dresser and attempted to order his hair. It was futile—he had soft, dark brown waves that did whatever the hell they wanted day to day. He’d never found himself particularly ugly, but he was firmly rooted in absolutely mediocre, and that was fine with him. People didn’t need to be chiseled from marble in order to have happy lives.

Bryce was an opportunist, but Julian didn’t think there was a lot of peace in that life. And for as attractive as Ilan was, he was single and lonely. He worked too much and relaxed too little, and spending his free time at the gym perfecting his biceps to impress nurses didn’t do a whole lot when he went home alone every night.

Grabbing his moisturizer off the counter, Julian returned to his dresser mirror and smeared it over his face, working it into

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