He wasn’t going to tell her. He wasn’t going to confess that Ilan had gone to his worst acquaintance and paid a large sum of money for that man in particular to show up here and act like Julian hung the moon. He wasn’t going to explain that, for a moment, he said fuck it and tried to reach for more, and he was gently pushed back.
“What I want is for people to stop assuming that I need to be in a relationship to be happy.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek, then let himself smile just a little bit. “Alone for the rest of my life is worth a hundred times more than a single, extra day with Bryce.”
At that, Corinne laughed. “Can’t argue there. He’s such a dick.”
“And it’s only going to get worse,” Julian said. He groaned, then grabbed the railing and stood, Corinne following suit. She kept pace with him as he started back toward the boardwalk that would lead him to his parents’ cottage where he hoped Will would eventually be waiting. “I can handle it, though.”
“I know.” She grabbed his hand and tugged, and he turned his head and let her pull him into an embrace. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I just want you to be happy. And I think…I think that man is something special.”
He was—there was no denying it. There was something more about Will he didn’t understand and probably never would because he wouldn’t have the chance to pull back delicate layers and bury himself in all the things that made Will the man that he was. But what little bits he’d been given, there on that trip, he would treasure for the rest of his life.
His heart would ache when it was over, but it would heal. He’d move on, and he’d probably meet someone that treated him right, and it would be fine. And he knew, deep down, that even though his decision had been unconventional, he wasn’t going to regret it.
They parted ways in the space between Corinne’s cottage and their parents’, and he didn’t blame her for not going up. As it was, his stomach twisted into knots because he was feeling vulnerable, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to stand firm against his mother’s cutting tongue. He didn’t have much choice, but there was still forty-five minutes before they had to leave, and that was plenty of time for her to reduce him to a bleeding mess if he let her.
With a breath, he knocked on the door, then pushed his way in and stepped into the living room. The space was far bigger than the one Bryce had given him and Will. There were two rooms, a kitchenette, a sitting area, and a porch with a breakfast nook that fit them both comfortably. He could hear the sound of his father humming in the back, and when he wasn’t greeted by his mother, his shoulders relaxed and he knocked on the bedroom door before coming in.
“It’s me,” he said. He spotted his father at the dresser, working a little bit of oil over his short beard with his brush. “I got caught up with Corinne or I would have come sooner.”
His dad turned with a smile and shook his head. “I’ve managed without you for years, Julian. I’m fine.”
He let out a small sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed where Bastian immediately came to rest his head on his knee. His fingers sank into the Golden’s soft fur, and he felt himself relax a little more. “Where is she?”
He watched his dad’s face darken, head tipped down toward the dresser as his fingers searched for his comb. When he found it, he dragged it through his hair and set it right before speaking again. “She’s with your aunt and uncle.”
He heard what his father wasn’t saying. She was with Bryce and Ashton. She was involving herself in the wedding and showing her support for a man who had been cruel to her child—without care for anything but herself. And though it was typical, he couldn’t help it from stinging.
“Will I ever stop caring?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words hung there, and his father’s expression fell.
Fredric turned, his hand curled into a fist, then he reached out and Julian pushed to his feet and stepped into his grip. “I wish I could tell you. I