Ch. 31..35: My Husband Wants An Open Marriage Chapter 31-35

CHAPTER 031: Morning Coffee ~~Julie~~

In my dream, I'm floating somewhere soft and far away. And then-bang-the calm shatters, replaced by a loud, insistent pounding. Someone is knocking on a door, and it sounds like they're one bang away from kicking it down. I bury my face deeper into my pillow, hoping the noise will stop. But it doesn't.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Groaning, I open my eyes and squint at the clock on my nightstand. 4:47 a.m. It's basically the middle of the night. Who in their right mind is awake at this hour?

I drag myself out of bed and stumble to the door, throwing it open. And there, in all his early morning glory, stands Luke. "Morning, Julie," he says.

He's in workout clothes. The shirt stretches across his chest and shoulders in ways that should be illegal. His shorts fit just right, showcasing his toned legs, and don't even get me started on the definition of his arms. A faint sheen of sweat is already on his brow, like he's fresh from a warm-up. I can barely believe he's a real human being, standing in front of me looking like that at... well, 4:47 a.m.

I can't look away. Not even slightly. Not yet.

His smile widens as he catches me staring, and I realize-in horror-that I walked out here in nothing but my thin nightgown. I forgot to put on a robe. I can feel the cold air pricking against my skin, and, oh, wonderful-my nipples are pressing right through the silk.

As though reading my mind, Luke's eyes lower down, and he freezes for a second. His smile falters, his eyes lingering a beat too long, and there's no mistaking that glint in his eye.

I clear my throat, crossing my arms against my chest, my face about to explode. "Um.... Did you... want something?"

He raises an eyebrow, looking at me like I'm the one acting odd. Then he clears his throat, somehow more serious. "Actually, yeah. You need to get dressed. We're going to the gym."

I pause, waiting for the punchline. It doesn't come.

"The what?" I say.

"The gym. I'm getting you a membership. You need some power training, plus self-defense lessons."

I just blink at him, trying to wrap my mind around whatever he's saying. "And it has to be now? As in, five in the morning? Luke, I need at least five cups of coffee to be functional at this time." "Then I'll get you five cups of coffee."

"Luke-"

"No," he interrupts, stepping closer. "Listen, Julie. For two nights, I haven't slept. Not properly, at least. I've been up all night, thinking about what you said two nights ago when you were a little drunk on champagne." 4

CHAPTER 031: Morning Coffee

"I said something?"

He nods. "Yeah. That your mother held you over a bridge ralling and tried to throw you off. Is she... what,

sixty?"

I swallow hard. "Sixty-five."

His mouth tightens, and I can tell he's holding back a few words. "Even worse," he says, shaking his head. "Look, just get dressed and meet me downstairs."

"Luke... she's not a threat anymore," I mumble. "She's probably in jail by now,"

"I don't care. I'm hurt, alright? You've been sober a whole day and still haven't told me any of this. Everything I know is either from the lawyer I hired, who mentioned you're suing Ryan for adultery and other charges, or from you-when you were drunk, telling me you almost died."

His voice is steady, but I can see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration, and it's like a gut punch. "I'm sorry, Luke. I was going to tell you. I just..."

He waves his hand, brushing it off with a tired smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "It's fine. Just get dressed and meet me downstairs. It's either self-defense lessons or bodyguards that follow you everywhere, including public bathrooms. Make a choice." I chuckle. "Alright. Give me five minutes."

His eyes hold mine for a second longer, something almost unreadable in them before he nods, turning away. As the door clicks shut, I sag against it.

I want to strangle him and thank him at the same time. This stubborn, relentless, protective man. He cares so much he can't even sleep. And it scares me how much I care about him caring. Because I don't want to need this. I don't want to need anyone. I don't want to need him.

I hurry to freshen up and pull on gym clothes. Then I head downstairs, half-expecting him to be gone, but there he is, leaning against his car, holding a steaming to-go cup of coffee, as promised. He doesn't say anything, just hands it to me.

I take a sip, savoring the warmth that floods my veins. "Thanks."

He nods. "Come on, let's get you bulked up."

At the gym, they make me fill out forms with questions so invasive, I feel like I'm being auctioned. I'm barely through the third page when Luke appears at my shoulder, peering at my responses with way too

much interest.

"Do they really need to know my favorite protein flavor?" I ask, glancing up.

"They're just covering all bases," he says, smirking. "You're signing up for the deluxe membership."

I mutter something about it feeling more like signing my life away, but he's already moving on, leading me through the massive double doors to what I can only describe as a dungeon for fitness fanatics. The room smells like rubber mats, a touch of bleach, and a hint of steel weights.

"Meet your trainer," Luke says, pointing to a lady in front.

CHAPTER 031: Morning Coffee

She's tall, lean, and looks like she could snap me in two if she wanted. Her eyes settle on me, and in that instant, I feel insecure.

"You're Julie, right?"

Her voice is somehow both soft and terrifying, like a lullaby sung by a haunted doll.

"Yes. That's me," I say.

Luke is still smiling-enjoying this.

"Alright, follow me," she says, with a short, no-nonsense nod toward a door labeled Training Room.

I glance back at Luke, my face set in a silent, desperate plea. Help.

He just mouths back, You'll be fine. And then, with what I swear is a mocking grin, he waves and disappears, leaving me at the mercy of my new trainer

Inside the training room, I'm greeted with an array of weights, punching bags, and a stretching mat that looks well-used. My trainer-the woman who introduces herself as Beth-doesn't waste a second.

"Warm up first," she says, folding her arms as she watches me with an eagle eye. "We'll start with jumping jacks. And I mean real ones. Not those lazy excuses for exercise I see some people attempt."

I nod, already feeling out of breath just from her intensity, and I start moving, trying to remember how to breathe and jump at the same time without looking like a complete disaster. After what feels like a lifetime, she instructs me to do burpees, a delightful exercise that makes me want to call Luke and cuss

him out.

Somewhere between the third and fourth burpee, my legs start to shake, my vision starts to blur, and my breathing sounds like an asthmatic cat's. But Beth isn't slowing down.

""You'll thank me later," she says.

Once I've sweated through all my insecurities, we move on to the actual training, which I thought would be, you know, like learning how to throw a basic punch. But no-Beth has other ideas.

"Self-defense is about confidence, Julie. It's about believing you can handle yourself. Now, let's see your stance."

I plant my feet, wobbling. She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms like she's contemplating my chances of survival.

"You look like you're standing on a boat."

"I feel like I'm standing on a boat," I mutter, trying to adjust. Beth corrects my stance with a nudge of her foot, and I try not to look as humiliated as I feel.

She spends the next ten minutes coaching me through what she calls "basic defensive maneuvers." To me, they feel like elaborate dance moves in which I'm always a beat behind. "Good, good. Now, try to push me back," she says, her arms braced.

I brace myself, dig my feet in, and push forward with all the strength I can muster. I might as well be trying to move a concrete wall. She doesn't budge. Not even a millimeter.

CHAPTER 031 Morning Coffee

"Interesting," she says, her tone somewhere between amusement and pity. "Let's work on your leverage."

We go through a series of holds and escapes. At one point, she's got me in a headlock, demonstrating how to wriggle free, but my wriggling looks more like I'm trying to escape a very tight sweater. It's all terribly undignified. "Use your hips," she says. "And don't be afraid to use your voice. Shout if you have to."

"Help," I squeak.

"Louder."

"Help!" I try again, managing something more convincing this time.

She rolls her eyes. "That's the spirit. Though, maybe save the dramatics for the real thing."

Eventually, after I've been tossed, tripped, and pinned to the ground in various undignified ways, she has me lying flat on the mat, my body one massive ache.

"Now, what would you do if someone tried to grab you from behind?" she asks.

"Lie down and accept my fate?" I say, only half-joking.

She gives me a look, unimpressed, and reaches down, preparing to demonstrate yet another move when, mercifully, my phone rings. It's a shrill, blessed sound coming from the corner of the room, and I scramble to my feet. "Excuse me," I say, trying to suppress a grin. Beth narrows her eyes but lets me go, and I drag myself over to my bag, my legs wobbling like noodles.

In my mind, it's Luke on the other end, checking in to see if I've survived. Maybe he's feeling guilty. Maybe he's had a sudden change of heart about this whole "self-defense" idea. I smile at the thought, not even glancing at the caller ID as I pick up. "Hello?" I say, expecting Luke's voice.

But instead, I'm greeted by something that chills me to the bone.

""Hello, Julie."

Holy shit. It's my mother.

CHAPTER 032: I was The Problem

At first, I'm just too stunned to say anything. It's like my brain's stalling, processing, until finally, I blurt out the only thing I can manage:

"Aren't you supposed to be in jail?"

There's this unbearable, casual calm in her voice. "I made bail," she says, like she's talking about a nail appointment. "I'm bipolar and off my meds. They can't hold me." Oh, come on, I want to scream, but I swallow it down." don't know what magic trick you pulled to get out, but don't call this number again. I'm getting a restraining order." "Sweetheart, you can do whatever you want. But for now, just listen to me. Please?"

A request from her-a polite one at that-throws me for a second. Against my better judgment, I don't hang up. My pulse is pounding. She takes my silence as permission.

"I wanted to apologize, Julie," she says. "For being... difficult. For pushing you. You know, I've got a

condition."

It's ridiculous. The laugh that escapes me is hard and hollow, almost a bark. "Oh, is that your excuse for trying to throw me off a bridge?"

A pause. And then, "I wasn't actually going to do it, Julie. I love you. You know that."

I roll my eyes. "You've got thirty seconds," I say. "Thirty seconds to summarize whatever it is you want before I hang up."

She clears her throat. "Alright. It's about Ryan. He's-he's falling apart."

"Great. I'm hanging up now."

""Wait-"

Before I can hit "end," another voice cuts in. "Elaine, hang up the phone. Now."

Every muscle in my body freezes. I know that voice: Adeline O'Brien, Ryan's mother. Her tone is sharp and brittle, like she's forcing herself to be polite, and it sets my teeth on edge. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I haven't heard Adeline's voice in a year she's been traveling around the world with her husband, Darius, and honestly, that's one blessing I was grateful for.

Then I hear him-Ryan. If I wasn't sure about Adeline before, Ryan's words confirm it. "Mom? When did you come in?"

Adeline doesn't waste time in replying. "Let's skip the formalities," she says. "Tell your mother-in-law to hang up that phone right now. We have a lot of things to discuss."

"I'm talking to my daughter," my mother says. "I'll hang up when I'm done talking."

I hear Ryan in the background again, confused. "Mom, Is there a problem? Did something happen to Dad?"

Adeline laughs. "The only thing wrong with this family is you-and that whore of a wife you have."

I freeze. Did she actually just-

CHAPTER 032:1 was The Problem

But before I can even react, my mother's voice rises, furious. "Excuse me? Did you just call my daughter a whore?"

It's like I can picture the scene unfolding, my mother's face twisted in anger, not because she likes me but because she despises not being the biggest bully in a room. I imagine Adeline's calm, impassive face, a look of unfeeling disdain. She'd always had the ability to look down at you without lifting more than one

or two face muscles.

"Yes, I did," Adeline fires back. "Your family is the worst mistake my son ever made."

Ryan tries to interrupt, "Mom-" but she cuts him off.

"Don't 'Mom' me," she says. "I told you from the very first day you brought a pauper into this house that I didn't approve of the union. But now look what you've done. Letting them bring their ghetto ways into my family, into my company-our name. Have you even read the news? She filed for divorce on grounds of adultery? It's a disgrace!"

For a moment, there's nothing but silence, and I can practically see Ryan shrinking, bending under the weight of her words.

Finally, he says, "Yes, Mom, I saw the news. And it's true. She served me divorce papers... but it was a misunderstanding. We're trying to work things out. Julie will be back in no time."

"No," Adeline says. "You will do no such thing. She is not coming back into this family."

"Mom, that's my wife-

"I don't care!" she barks. "You made this mess, and I'm here to clean it up, like always. So don't even think about trying to make any moves on your own. First order of business: get that secretary of yours out of your house." That's when, out of nowhere, Emily's voice comes in. "Excuse me? I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, you are," Adeline says.

"I'm pregnant with his child," Emily says, the words landing like a bombshell.

The line falls silent. It's like all the air's been sucked out of the room. I don't even wait to hear the aftermath. My hands shake as I press End on the call.

Without thinking, I grab my things, ignoring Beth's surprised call from across the room.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

I turn, barely aware of what I'm saying. "I'm so sorry. I have to go. It's... it's an emergency."

I'm half-walking, half-limping toward the exit, every step a painful reminder of Beth's relentless training session. My legs ache, my muscles scream, but I push through, my mind spinning. I just need to get out of here.

Near the gym's entrance, I spot Luke. He's at the weights, looking focused and calm in a way that only makes me feel more rattled. When he spots me, his brows knit together, and he drops the weights, jogging over. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

CHAPTER 032: I was The Problem

I try to get the words out, but what I end up saying is, "We need to leave."

His eyes search mine for a moment, something tender in his expression, before he gives a quiet nod Can you walk?"

I nod, even as my body threatens to crumple beneath me, but the limp is impossible to hide. Pain surges up my leg with each step, and before I can object, Luke sweeps me up into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, my head resting on his chest, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart

At first, I don't know what to say. There's so much-too much-to explain. But as he carries me to the car, I just close my eyes, letting myself sink into the solid warmth of him, feeling safe for the first time in what feels like years.

We've been driving in silence for some minutes now. Only the steady hum of the engine and the flicker of passing streetlights keep us company. Luke keeps glancing over, like he's dying to ask, and finally, he just goes for it. "Are you going to tell me what happened or not?"

I stare out the window, fingers curling into my lap. "My mother," I say, "She made baill."

"What?" He turns to me. "How?"

"It's Ryan, probably," I mutter, voice bittet. "They said she's bipolar. That she was off her meds that day. It was all a misunderstanding or something." I let out a harsh laugh. "I want to call bullshit, but it kind of makes sense. Looking back, all those things she did when I was growing up-it's like it all has an answer now. All those awful things? She's just sick."

Luke's jaw clenches, and I can see that cold, protective fire light up in his eyes. "We have to send her back."

I shake my head. "I don't care anymore, Luke."

"Yes, you do. You care, Julie. You can't just pretend like it's fine. She's not to be trusted."

"I'll get a restraining order. Isn't that enough?" I try to sound resolute, but even to my own ears, it's hollow.

"No. It's not enough. She needs to be jailed-"

My head is pounding, each word he says only aggravating the rage that's rising inside me. I don't want to hear it, not any of it. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I cut him off.

"I don't care about Elaine fucking Jenkins anymore, alright? She can rot at the bottom of hell for all I care." I swallow. "Emily is pregnant."

Silence. The car feels like it's shrinking. I don't even have to look at him to know his mouth is slightly open, his eyes wide.

"What?"

shake my head, my voice ragged. "Emily is pregnant with Ryan's child, Luke. Do you know what that means?" I pause. "It means I was the problem all along"

CHAPTER 033: Not With Me

Luke tries to say my name, gentle and calm, but I'm too far gone. The words spill out of me, raw and unfiltered, every ugly, twisted thought I've been trying to keep down coming to the surface like a wave ! can't hold back.

"Don't you get it? I was the problem. I was the one hanging on to something broken from the start, and everyone else could see it but me. He was with her, Luke. Sleeping with her right under my nose, while kept pretending we could fix things." I let out a bitter laugh, and my voice cracks. "I kept telling myself that we'd get through it, that he loved me enough to stay. But the truth is, I was lying to myself, wasn't I?"

Luke's face is full of something I can't quite read. Maybe he wants to argue, or maybe he just feels sorry for me. His voice is rough, barely a whisper. "You weren't lying, Julie. You trusted him. That's not a crime."

"Isn't it?" I feel my hands shaking in my lap, every word scraping out of me. It hurts. "Then why do I feel like an idiot? Like I'm the one who ruined everything while he was out there building a life with someone else? Do you even know what it's like to give someone everything, to believe in them so completely, and then realize the whole time they were just waiting for a reason to leave? And the worst part? I was the perfect excuse-I was the one who couldn't have a baby, Luke. How convenient is that?"

"Stop it." Luke's voice is louder, and there's an edge to it, a kind of hurt that catches me off guard. "Ryan's a coward, Julie. Don't you see that? He didn't cheat on you because he found someone better. He did it because he's too damn weak to face his own life. It's easier to blame you than to admit he's a failure."

The words are a slap in the face. I let out a long, shaky breath, my eyes glued to the dark road stretching out ahead of us. I can barely see, the streetlights blurring together through my tears.

Luke's voice softens. "You're not the problem. You did everything you could. You tried to make it work, and he took advantage of that. Don't let them twist things around and make you feel like it's your fault."

I look at him, hoping he understands even a fraction of the pain that's been building inside me. "Then why" am I still so angry?" My voice is a whisper. "Why can't I just let it go?"

He looks at me, his eyes filled with a tenderness that cuts straight to my heart. "Because you loved him," he says simply. "And when you love someone, it doesn't just disappear. Not even when they break you. But that doesn't mean you have to keep punishing yourself for his mistakes."

I let his words sink in, and for a brief, fragile moment, there's a spark of something else-a glimmer of hope. But it's faint, barely a flicker, and I'm not sure I trust it yet. I'm not sure I can.

"You don't have to pretend you're okay," he says. "Not with me."

I let my shoulders slump as I lean back in the seat. The anger, the hurt, it's all still there, but somehow, with him beside me, it feels a little less heavy.

For the rest of the drive, we're quiet, the silence not as thick as before but comfortable, almost soothing. And as we pull up to the house, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I don't have to face all of this alone.

Luke cuts the engine, letting out a quiet sigh. Before I can move, he's out of the car, hurrying around to the passenger side.

"I can walk, you know, I say, rolling my eyes as he opens my door with that all-too-familiar smirk.

I know you can walk. But who says you have to?"

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CHAPTER 033: Not With Me

He's standing so close that I can feel his warmth, his eyes intense and focused on me in a way that makes my heart stutter. For a moment, I brace myself, half-expecting him to scoop me up. Instead, he leans in close, placing a warm, steadying hand on my lap. "I don't want you sad over silly things," he says, his voice low. "Being around sad people-it just saddens me. So, whatever it is you want that's in my power to give you, you ask for it. You want a baby? I'll give you a thousand."

I laugh, but there's something about the way he's looking at me, the way he's not moving, that takes the laughter and turns it into something else. Something far too serious, too real. I want to think he's joking, but his eyes-there's something there, something raw and unguarded.

And before I can even think about it, my hands are on his face, cupping his cheeks, pulling him closer. "What if I want you?"

The words barely leave my lips before his mouth crashes down on mine. It's like a dam breaking, every ounce of tension and frustration and hope pouring out into the kiss. It's wild and unrestrained. He pulls me closer, lifting me effortlessly out of the car, his arms strong and secure around me as he carries me toward the house, all without breaking the kiss.

We stumble into the living room, still tangled together, lips pressed hard against each other as if we could erase everything else-the hurt, the doubts, the pain-in this wild, desperate moment. His fingers trace down my back, his touch setting my skin on fire, and when his hands reach the hem of my shirt, I don't stop him. I don't want to. Everything feels electric, like the world has faded away and all that's left is us

and this moment.

Then, suddenly, a loud throat clearing comes from behind.

I break away with a scream, my heart leaping out of my chest. My hands go to my mouth as I realize someone else is in the room. I look up to see Javier sitting in his chair, arms crossed, grinning like he's just walked in on the best part of a rom-com. "Well, well, well," he says, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Friend, you say?"

AN

CHAPTER 034: Sparks

I bury my face in Luke's shoulder, heat rushing to my cheeks.

"Seriously, Grandpa?" Luke groans, still holding me. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"I was sitting here, minding my own business. I had no idea you'd be... well, carrying on like that."

Luke shakes his head. "You should be sleeping, you know. It's barely even six o'clock."

"I'm in a wheelchair, not on life support," Javier shoots back. "I still have a social life. And in case you hadn't noticed, I like keeping an eye on things. Don't mind me. I was just about to roll myself to the kitchen. By all means, carry on."

At that, I can't help but peek out from Luke's shoulder. Javier meets my gaze with a wink that has me cringing and fighting a smile all at once.

Luke scoffs and shakes his head, moving to lift me up before I can react. My feet leave the ground, and I instinctively grab his shoulders as he sweeps me into his arms, turning toward the stairs.

"Is something wrong with her legs?" Javier calls after us.

Over Luke's shoulder, I say, "Just a little overexerted. Must've stretched too much."

Javier nods. "Don't break his heart," he mouths.

Those silent words hang in the air, a gentle warning. I turn back to Luke, pressing my face into his shirt to hide the unexpected ache those words leave behind. Luke glances down at me, raising a brow. "What did he say?"

"Nothing." I shake my head, not wanting to share. "Just more Javier stuff."

He doesn't press, just keeps carrying me up the stairs, his grip warm and steady. After a short while, I ask, "How long has he been here, anyway?"

He sighs. "Since last spring. After Grandma died, I brought him here from Colombia, thought I'd put him in a group home, you know, so he'd be around people his own age."

"Oh? And that didn't work?"

"Well, he stayed a couple of nights, maybe. But then he figured out some way to sneak out. Escaped the place in his wheelchair, if you can believe it."

I burst out laughing, clutching his shoulder. "He escaped? How?"

"I have no clue. And now he's made it his life mission to haunt my house, and apparently my every romantic interaction too."

He reaches the door to my room, nudging it open with his foot before carrying me inside and setting me gently on the bed. I settle back against the pillows, smiling up at him as he sinks down to sit at the edge. "You know, I imagine it can't be easy having him around, especially when you're dating."

Luke chuckles. "Honestly, it's tempting to blame him, but it's not all his fault." He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he looks away. "Maybe it's a me problem."

+25 BOALS

CHAPTER 034: Sparks

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," he says, staring down at his hands. "It's just... I haven't really felt anything with anyone in a long time. No sparks, no excitement."

A playful grin spreads across my face as I raise a brow. "Want me to grab a defibrillator? Shock some feelings back into you?"

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and for a moment, his gaze softens, fixing on me in a way that's too intense, too vulnerable. "No need. I think I'm good. Actually, I think I'm healed." He tilts his head, smiling down at me. "I've been feeling all kinds of sparks lately." The words linger between us, filling the room with a heat that's almost suffocating. My heart pounds, my mouth dry as I struggle to form a coherent thought. There's something here-something terrifying and real -and I feel my pulse quicken, my mind spinning as I stare back at him.

I clear my throat, breaking the silence before it swallows us whole. "You know," I start, my voice shakier than I want it to be, "there's a lot I don't know about you, Luke. You know so much about me, my whole messy history, but I hardly know anything about you." He reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a little too long. "What do you want to know?"

"Your grandfather mentioned something about an ex-wife once?" I say, searching his face for a reaction. You've never told me anything about her."

At my question, his entire demeanor shifts. His smile fades, his jaw tightening as he looks away. I can see the wall go up, a barrier slamming down between us, and my heart sinks.

He stands up, turning toward the door. "I have to go."

"Wait," I say. "Did I say something wrong?"

He shakes his head, avoiding my gaze as he heads for the door. "No. I just... I have a backlog of work waiting for me at the office."

I sit up, the sheets pooling around me as I watch him. "Luke, don't go."

He pauses, just for a second, his hand on the doorframe. He doesn't look back.

"Just try to rest, okay? Maybe take the day to sort things out, like that resignation letter you're planning on sending."

"Luke-"

He walks back to me, reaching out to touch my cheek. His hand lingers, fingers brushing my skin as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. For a moment, he stays like that, his breath warm against my skin, and I can feel his hesitation, the way he's holding

back.

Finally, he pulls away, his eyes meeting mine with a look that's so full of something I can't quite place, something bittersweet and almost broken.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispers.

Then he turns and walks out, leaving me alone in the room.

CHAPTER 034: Sparks

Nearly an hour later, after regaining enough feeling in my legs to stumble through a shower, I head downstairs with my laptop in hand, hair still damp and heart still racing with some leftover adrenaline from the mess with Luke.

The sounds from the kitchen reach me first-a lively mix of Javier's voice and a woman's laughter that carries a thick, unmistakable Mexican accent. As I round the corner, I catch sight of her.

She's petite but full of life, her black hair twisted into a no-nonsense bun under a bright red scarf, a floral apron tied snugly around her waist. Her dark eyes are sharp but warm. She's holding a spatula in one hand like it's her personal wand.

When she sees me, she freezes, staring openly as if I'm a ghost who's just wandered into her domain. Javier notices her gaze wandering and turns, catching sight of me. He smirks.

"Ha!" he says, throwing his hands up. "She can walk after all!"

"A miracle," I reply. "Must be your grandson's magical hands."

Javier blinks, at a loss for words-an actual miracle, if you ask me. I take a bit of satisfaction in the way his mouth opens and closes, as if he's trying to come up with something equally snappy but just... can't. The woman in the apron chuckles, bringing Javier back to life. "Javier, who's your pretty friend?"

Javier regains his composure and gives the a knowing look, one that holds both approval and mischief.

"Her name is Julie," he says. "She's Lucas's girlfriend."

CHAPTER 035: Chilaquiles

I don't bother correcting him, just smile back at the woman, letting her read whatever she wants into the silence. She beams at me, her whole face lighting up with genuine warmth, before turning back to Javier and fixing him with a raised brow. "Lucas has a girlfriend?" she says. "When did that happen?"

"Recently," Javier replies, his eyes fixed on me with a look that suggests he's more interested in studying my reaction than actually answering her question,

I offer a polite nod to the woman before making my way over to a nearby table, where I place my laptop and settle into a chair, still within earshot of their conversation. As I power the laptop on, I hear the woman's voice call over to me.

"Would you like some chilaquiles for breakfast, Julie?" she asks. "I just finished making them. Javier didn't tell me we had company, but thank God Lucas didn't eat his. He was in a hurry when he came down. You can have his. Paula will make you fat and healthy." I blink, taken aback. "Oh, right." I manage a grin, though I'm not sure whether I should be horrified or amused. "And... who's Paula?"

But she's already bustling out to the kitchen, presumably to grab the breakfast she's offered, leaving Javier to answer.

"That's her name." Javier chuckles. "And don't ever call her anything but Paula. She loves her name."

I nod and focus on setting up Microsoft Word, fingers hovering over the keyboard as I try to gather my thoughts. But before I can even start typing, Javier rolls over.

"What you got there?"

I glance up. "A laptop."

His eyes narrow. "Is there something I can help you with? I have many talents, you know."

I pause, my fingers frozen mid-type, as I consider his offer. After a beat, I pull my hands away from the laptop and lean back in my chair.

"Actually," I say, folding my arms. "There is something you could help me with."

"Shoot."

I take a steadying breath. "What happened between Luke and his ex-wife?"

Javier's expression changes instantly. The humor slips away, replaced by something more complex, something guarded. He looks down at his hands, fingers fidgeting, before he speaks in a low, thoughtful tone.

"Well," he begins, "that's a tricky one."

I wait, watching him. He rubs a hand over his jaw, maybe debating how much to say.

"It's not an easy story. Luke doesn't talk about her, and I don't bring it up." He pauses, then meets my gaze. "But I'll tell you this: they were young, maybe too young. When they first met, I thought... well, I

33 Chlaques

thought they were perfect for each other. She was beautiful, smart, and kind. I could see how much she meant to him."

I nod, trying not to push, but the questions bubble up inside me. "So, what happened?"

Javier takes a deep breath. "She... left him, and not for a good reason. At least not one Lucas could accept."

"Okay?" I say.

"She was..." Javier trails off, struggling to find the right words. "Selfish, if I'm being honest. Left him when he needed her most, and I don't think he's ever quite forgiven her. Or himself, for that matter."

I sit there in silence, my heart aching for Luke. This story, this history-there's more to it than Javier's saying, but from the little I've heard, it explains so much. Luke's hesitance, the way he holds himself back, like he's afraid to let someone in too close. Afraid to risk that kind of heartbreak again. It kills me that he won't tell me anything. And right now, the only other person I can ask, Javier, is making me mad by withholding information.

"You're keeping me in suspense. Why did she leave? I have so many questions."

Javier looks at me, his eyes softening. "And they're going to remain unanswered until he wants you to know. You know, he doesn't let people in easily. It's been years, and he's still... careful. But with you..." He trails off, letting the words hang in the air.

I bite my lip, torn between gratitude and the strange, tender weight of Javier's words. Just then, Paula returns with a steaming plate, setting it down in front of me.

"Chilaquiles, just how Lucas likes them," she says, grinning at me with that same warm look in her eyes. Eat up, mija. You look like you could use a good meal."

I smile, managing a quick "Thank you," before she bustles off again, leaving me alone with Javier and my thoughts. As I pick up my fork, I glance over at him, catching his steady gaze.

"If you don't plan to stick around, Julie," he says, almost as if he's talking to himself. "Set him free. Let him go now. I've seen more light in his eyes in these last few days than I have in years. And I've sworn to myself that the next person who makes those eyes glow again and then dims them right back is getting a contract put on her head."

I can't help but smile, warmth spreading through me as I take a bite.

The food is rich and comforting, exactly what I didn't know I needed, but it's the words that linger. Because they're not just Javier's words-they're hopes, tiny, fragile hopes he's been holding for a man he- cares deeply about. And for once, I wish there was someone out there who cares this much about me. Someone who would threaten another with assassination if they broke my heart.

"Oh, yeah?" I say. "Do you have any of those killers' contacts you could lend me?"

"Who do you need to take out?"

"My old self, for starters."

He smirks. "I know a few people who owe me favors. Just say the word."

I snort. "Maybe it's time to finally bury her. The old me. She got me here, let herself get sucked into this

mess

Javier looks at me, something softening in his eyes, and he nods. "You're not that girl anymore, Julie," he says, "But sometimes the past has a way of following us, no matter how fast we run." He leans back, eyeing me. He hasn't asked it yet, but I know the question is coming.

"Tell me about your divorce," he says,

1 swallow, my fork hovering over my plate. "What?"

"Your life. Your drama. I want to hear about it."

The urge to deflect is strong, to just laugh it off with some quip, but there's something in his expression that roots me. I don't know why, but for the first time in a long time, I actually want to answer honestly.

"It's complicated," I begin. "I thought it would be easy, in a way... that once I'd made the decision to leave, it would feel like ripping off a Band-Aid." I shake my head, huffing out a small, bitter laugh. "But I guess nothing with Ryan O'Brien ever is." Javier raises an eyebrow. "Ryan O'Brien," he says, dragging out each syllable.

"Yeah, That Ryan O'Brien," 1 mutter.

Javier nods. "Let me guess. You're leaving him for... adultery, emotional abuse, something along those lines?"

"Yeah, that about covers it."

He nods again, and I can see he's weighing his words, choosing them carefully. "And you're willing to go up against him and his entire family," he says. "You think they're just going to sit back and let you make a public spectacle of them?"

"You think I should just keep quiet? Go down easy?" I scoff. "Make it sound like we 'fell out of love'? Pretend it was some kind of mutual split?"

He shrugs. "It's not a lie, is it? You and he fell apart... isn't that clean? Simple? What you're starting with him, Julie, it's not just divorce. It's war. And it's going to be a bloody one if you aren't careful."

"I'm ready, I'm not afraid of a fight."

His smile is thin, shadowed. "Are you really ready? Because you say that now, Julie, with all that fire in your voice. But once they start dragging your name, picking apart everything you've done, turning it all against you... it's not just you in this anymore." I squint at him, unsure if he's being supportive or trying to undermine my resolve. "What does that mean?"

"It means, whether you like it or not, Lucas is involved now," he says, watching my face, waiting for the reaction he knows will come.

"What does Lucas have to do with this?"

Right then, the doorbell rings. I jump, nearly dropping my fork.

Paula rushes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "I'll get it," she says.

Moments later, Paula reappears, her expression a little more serious. "It's one of the gate security," she