Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 88270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
We drive back together, his hand resting on my thigh the entire way, his thumb tracing slow circles over the fabric in a way that's both sensual and comforting. Lights from passing cars streak by, and the East River appears dark to our left as we head toward the estate. I rest my head on his shoulder. As the shock and adrenaline wear off, tears start slipping quietly down my cheeks, and emotions swirl inside. Relief that she's gone, but guilt over the cover-up, and love for him, making it all somehow bearable. There is an awkwardness now in the silence between us, and it leaves me wondering if this changes everything.
When we arrive home, the estate stands dark and quiet, the party long over. Tents remain on the lawn like ghosts under the moon, the ocean's crash faint in the distance. Exhaustion crashes over me like a wave. My body feels heavy as I step out, and my legs wobble slightly. Blake's arm wraps around my waist to support me. He opens the front door, and we enter the silent foyer. Dora and Carson are long gone to bed.
“Are you alright?" he asks, pausing in the hall, his hand on my cheek, thumb brushing softly. Concern shows in his eyes for me, love making his touch linger a moment longer.
I nod, but it's a lie, because the weight pressing down on me is hard. “I just need a bit of time on my own. Maybe have a shower.”
“I’m going to the hospital now, but I’ll be back before sunrise, okay?”
“Okay,” I say softly.
I head upstairs alone, my heels echoing on the steps. The bedroom door shuts behind me with a click. The room is cool and bathed in moonlight. The chair where Blake fucked me is like a reminder of life from earlier in the day. Everything looks the same, and yet nothing will be the same again.
I take the gown off slowly, the fabric sliding down my skin and pooling at my feet. Goosebumps scatter on my skin in the chill air as I walk to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and step into the cascading hot water. The citrus scent of body wash fills the space as I lather up, but then the breakdown hits, sudden and hard. Tears mix with the water, and I give in. Huge sobs shake my body as I crumple to the floor.
All my emotions pour out. It feels as if the sobs will never stop.
The steam makes it hard to breathe. I sit under the spray and allow the water to pound on my back, hoping it washes it all away.
Afterward, when I’m all cried out, I towel off, the cotton plush, but offering no real comfort. Slipping into a silk robe, I call Emma, my voice hoarse as the phone rings. The bedroom is quiet except for the ocean sounds through the window, moonlight slanting across the floor. It’s so late, but she answers quickly, her voice sleepy but filled with anxiety.
"Jules? How’s it going?” She asks. “I’ve been texting you, and I’ve been scared. What’s happening?’
I tell her everything—the farmhouse, the gun, the knife, Blake saving me, the clean-up guy.
Instantly, and with no reason to stay away now since the truth is out, she says she will come over.
I let her in, and her arms wrap around me instantly, hugging me tight in the foyer. Her coat's still on, smelling of the city—of the subway and coffee, and it all feels so familiar and safe.
”I'm here," she says, pausing to look at me, her eyes searching mine as she takes in my puffy face.
We head to the kitchen, where she makes tea—chamomile. Steam curls up as she hands me the mug, and I take contentment in the ceramic’s warmth in my hands. She sits close, listening as I talk it all out, while her hand remains on mine, comforting like always.
I feel sick from the stress.
Nausea rolls in my stomach, and my head is throbbing like a drum, and through it all, she stays. She tucks me into bed later, and her presence is like an anchor as she sits on the edge, stroking my hair slowly. The sheets feel cool under me, and her voice is soft.
"You're safe now, Jules. You’re safe. I’m here.”
I believe her and, slowly, the tension eases in her care. I’m grateful for her, grateful for Blake and this family and with this warmth amidst the strange chill in my body, sleep eventually pulls me under.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
BLAKE
The drive back from the hospital feels endless, with the Bentley's tires droning on the dark Hamptons roads. I made Frances happy, that’s for sure, but my mind replays the events of the night, and it doesn’t seem real. The nightmare ride to the hospital following Frances’s ambulance, the way Carolyn’s body froze mid-air, knife still clutched in her hand before she fell forward and became still forever, pulling her off Juliet with my heart in my mouth, her confession, the clean-up guy slinging Carolyn’s body bag over his shoulder as if it was a bag of potatoes.