Page 109 of Forgive You

Get it together, Jules.

First things first. You need to find a way to make sure that whatever happens, Jason will not take the fall.

My heart is finally settling down, my stomach a little less shaky, and I return to my full height.Breathe. If I can face my fear with open water. I can sure as hell fix this without destroying Jason’s life.

My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans, and I pull it out.

DAD: Heard you’re home. I need your help with a last-minute showing.

DAD: It’s the Victorian.

Holy shit, he finally pulled it off.

I smile, but it quickly dissolves.

Guilt runs up and down my spine, being fully aware that for him to know I’m in town and not staying with them, it’s probably only adding to the disappointment he’s feeling for me. But it still makes my heart tick with a little hope.

After what he thinks I did, I’m surprised he still asks me for help. Especially withthislisting.

ME: When?

DAD: In twenty minutes.

ME: I’m on my way.

Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t just up and leave when it’s Hunter’s birthday. But in this case, I’m taking on each opportunity to show my dad I’m still me.

I’m still his daughter who wouldn’t even think about stealing money from his company. Or quit out of the blue and move to the other side of the country.

I sneak back in to retrieve Charlotte’s car keys from the side table in the hall, then get back out and drive off in her Jeep.

The moment I’m in the solitude of the vehicle, my muscles relax into the leather seats, anticipation slipping a smile onto my lips.

I haven’t done a showing in so long. I missed it.

I always loved strolling through gorgeous houses, experiencing those beaming faces when they just knew this was their new home. But I always enjoyed the challenge of actually selling a property as well.

I’d thrive on conversation where a couple wasn’t on the same page, or one of them was a little more critical, asking hard questions. Those were the most rewarding of all. Especially when, eventually, you get them both happy and excited to move into their new house.

Fifteen minutes later, I park the car on the driveway of the big Victorian house that’s been a red thread into my childhood.

The outside is still as imposing and impressive as I remember it to be, though the outside woodwork clearly needs a touch-up.

I get out, ambling over the cobblestone driveway, loving the detail, then push through the heavy wooden door to meet my dad.

“Daddy?” I call out, taking the chandelier in the foyer, which is a piece of art itself. “Are you in h–”

Steady strides demand my attention, and I turn my head toward the sound.

My words get choked back. My heart tripping.

I never thought you could feel fear and rage at the same time, but it’s all rushing through me like a crushing wave, knocking me off my feet.

Blood boils as hot as lava.

Cold sweat coats my back.

Brittle hairs lift to the air.

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