Tenleytown. Van Ness. Cleveland Park. Adams Morgan/Woodley Park.
By the time I reached my stop and made the short trek from the station to The Mirage, my sobs had given way to a cold numbness.
I walked through the dark, silent apartment, my steps unnaturally loud against the hardwood floors. Stella wasn’t home, so I didn’t have to field questions about why I looked like such a hot mess.
All I wanted was to sleep the night away, but I managed to take a quick shower before I climbed into bed. My movements were stiff and mechanical, like I wasn’t truly there.
I wish I weren’t.
Despite the exhaustion pulling at my eyes, I couldn’t fall asleep, so I just stared at the ceiling and listened to the silence.
Maybe it was my imagination, but a whiff of Josh’s cologne from the last time he slept over lingered. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend he was there, his face buried in my neck and his strong body cradling mine.
You know, you’re the first guy I’ve been with in my room.
First and last, Red.
Possessive much?
Damn right I am. I don’t like sharing.
Sharing is a virtue, Josh.
I don’t give a flying fuck. I don’t share. Not when it comes to you.
Something warm and wet trickled down my cheek. Its saltiness teased my lips, and I realized I was crying again.
Unlike my earlier sobs, these tears didn’t make a sound. They were quiet screams trapped in my chest, burrowing into my bones and suffocating me.
I didn’t bother wiping them away. I just lay there, staring into the darkness and letting it eat me alive.
48
JULES
The only good thing about my breakup with Josh was that it gave me more time and motivation to study for the bar. I was motivated before, but there was no push greater than the need to distract from a broken heart.
I took the next week off from the clinic and used it for one last prep marathon.
Wake up at seven a.m.
Eat breakfast and shower.
Video lectures and notes until noon.
Lunch and a short break.
Assignments and practice essays.
Dinner and another break.
Practice MBE (Multistate Bar Examination) questions.
Sleep.
I stuck to the same schedule every day, afraid that if I deviated, I would fall into a dark hole I couldn’t claw my way out of.
Structure was good. Structure kept me from having to make decisions or think about anything other than what the next item in my to-do list was.
Of course, that only lasted until I actually took the bar exam. After that…
I stared at the sheet of paper before me.
A husband and wife decided to start a bike shop with the wife’s brother. They filed a certificate of organization to form a limited liability company…rented a storefront commercial space…signed contract to purchase 150 bike tires…
I blinked and shook my head before re-reading the setup more carefully. A migraine crept behind my temples, but I was almost at the finish line.
After six hours of testing, this was my last question—for the first day, anyway. I still had the multiple-choice exam tomorrow, but I’d worry about that then.
The scratch of my pencil filled my ears as I scribbled my notes down before typing my final responses into the computer.
What type of LLC was created—member-managed or manager-managed? Explain.
Is the LLC bound under the tire contract? Explain.
And so on and so forth.
I finished literally a minute before time was up. I submitted the test electronically and exited the testing site, waiting for a rush of relief or excitement. After so many years of school and months of studying, I was half finished with the exam that would determine the future of my career.
But the rush never came.
I just felt…empty.
“I think I did okay,” a woman near me said into her phone. I recognized her as another attorney hopeful from the testing site. She laughed at whatever the person on the other end said. “Stop…yes, of course. Dinner tonight. I love you.”
A lump of emotion clogged my throat.
In an alternate universe, I would be on the phone with Josh, making plans to celebrate. Something low key, since tomorrow was still a test day, but knowing him, he’d turn it into a whole production.
Dinner at my favorite restaurant, an at-home massage, sex to help me “relieve stress”...
“You’ll use any excuse for sex, won’t you?” I teased. I took off my jacket and tossed it on the couch right before Josh grabbed my waist and spun me around.
“Who says I need an excuse?” His cheek dimpled. “You want to fuck me all the time, Red. Admit it. But, since you mention it…” My breath hitched as he slid a palm up my thigh. “Completing half the bar exam is a big deal. It deserves to be celebrated.”
“Does it?” I tried to maintain a poker face, but it was difficult when his thumb was rubbing circles over my skin like that.
Heat burned low in my belly.
“Mmmhmm.” Josh’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know what they say. All test and no reward makes Jules a very dull girl.”
“Literally no one says that.”
“I do, and I’m one of only two people who matter.” He brushed his lips over mine. “Now, about your reward…”
The ding of the elevator shattered the fantasy into a million jagged pieces.
I wasn’t in Josh’s living room after a romantic night out; I was in the cold hallway of a nondescript building downtown, my stomach cramping and my chest tight as I lost him.
Again.
Some stupid, naive part of me hoped Josh would magically show up and surprise me like we were starring in a cheesy rom com, but of course, he didn’t.
My breaths picked up speed. The chill of the air conditioning burrowed into my bones, and the echo of footsteps against the marble floors took on a menacing note.
I need to get out of here.
Unfortunately, the open elevator was going up, not down, and the other elevator seemed to be stuck on the sixth floor.
Instead of waiting, I pushed open the door to the stairwell. I was only on the third floor, so it was an easy enough walk down to the lobby.
It seems only fitting for us to end things with a goodbye fuck.
I’ll miss that tight pussy of yours, though. No one takes my cock better than you do. It’s your best quality.
Fresh hurt sliced through me at the memory of his parting shot. Josh always knew which buttons to push, good or bad.
But still, I missed him so much it hurt to breathe.
Come here, baby.
You’re supposed to be in New Zealand.
I’d rather be here.
I hadn’t seen him since our breakup. He hadn’t swung by the clinic, and he’d ignored all my calls and texts. But if—
“I need the painting back, Jules.”
My head jerked up just in time to catch a glimpse of blue eyes and light brown hair before Max pinned me to the wall.
I let out a small cry when my head banged against the concrete. My vision blurred at the impact, but I could still make out the harsh lines of Max’s expression.
“I don’t have it,” I gasped. “I threw it away.”
I didn’t want him going after Josh. Christian had promised to keep an eye on Josh in case Max’s “friends” tried to steal the painting again, but it wasn’t a sustainable solution.