“You scared me, Jules. Why are you here?” I ask, pressing my hand to my chest as I walk further into the living room.
She heads straight for the kitchen and grabs a glass of water from the tap. “I guess I was waiting for you to come rushing in with an apology, but it seems like you found something better,”she says, gesturing toward the window where Elliot can still be seen walking away.
“You asked him to drop me off, Jules,” I say, moving to stand beside her. “And I’m really sorry for tonight.”
Julia looks down at the counter, her fingers tracing invisible patterns. “Tonight was perfect, Ollie. I was happy you and Elliot were finally on the same page—until it all went south.”
I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, Julia. It’s my fault. I was dramatic, and now I feel stupid. Please don’t be mad at me.” My voice cracks, and I feel the tears welling up. Her arms leave the counter to squeeze mine in return.
“Now that I think about it, it was hilarious. Better than any reality show I’ve ever watched,” she teases with a laugh, and I groan in embarrassment.
“Don’t even remind me. And calling Henry my chance at happiness? Ugh, I’m sure Elliot’s finally convinced I’m delusional.” Now that I’m away from it all, I can see how ridiculous the situation was, and I almost wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
“I don’t know, darling, but the look on Elliot’s face didn’t seem like he thought you were delusional—not even for a second. You two were smiling at each other. What on earth happened?” she asks, her eyes wide with curiosity, clearly eager for gossip.
I shrug nonchalantly. “We just decided to lower our weapons until the wedding is over. Think of it as a peace treaty.”
She narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Do all enemies at war walk each other home and send cute smiles that could almost pass for a goodnight kiss? Is that how treaties work these days?”
“Shush,” I whisper, pressing my hand over her lips before she can say something crazier.
“You shouldn’t say things like that. Daniel might hear, and—”
“Daniel might hear what?” my brother’s voice calls from the stairs, his sleepy eyes searching the room for answers.
He glances between Julia and me, waiting for more details, but no one says a word. “I see. You’re both leaving me out of girl talk? That’s unfair, even for you, babe,” he grumbles, pulling Julia into his arms.
“All you need to know is that Elliot walked me home tonight, and he smiled at me,” I say, trying to brush it off.
“He smiled? Why? Is he dying soon?” Daniel’s question spills out, and I can’t blame him. I’m still processing it too.
“It’s nothing serious. I’ve just decided to stop fighting,” I reply, sending him a warning glare. “No further questions.”
Drinking the water, I place the cup aside and head upstairs, but Daniel isn’t finished.
“I don’t understand, Ollie. Is there something wrong with Elliot that you’re not telling me?”
“No, I can assure you, your friend—who you clearly love more than your sister—is alive and well,” I answer, but the questions don’t stop.
Now I’m at my door, but his hand is on the knob before I can open it.
“So you’re saying Elliot agreed to be friends after everything that’s happened?”
I nod, growing tired of the endless questions. “Julia, babe, why didn’t we just have the rehearsal dinner earlier if we knew it would only take one conflict to bring them together?”
“Danny!” Julia shrieks, and we both laugh.
“You’re a crazy man, brother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had the worst day,” I say, brushing past him and slamming the door before he can ask anything else.
The warm water from the shower cascades down my shoulders, washing away the memories of the failed dinner, but not the image of Elliot’s smile. Or the words he said to me:“It’s one of the things I find endearing about you.”What more is there to him to love? And how did he know about my pink promdress? I hadn’t even seen him that day. My brother had kept him away on purpose.
It leaves me wondering—how many things does Elliot Sharp know about me? And how long has he been watching?
Dressed in my pajamas, I sit down to write a new blog post.
Burning Bridges and New Flames
Sometimes, pain and heartbreak are preparing us for something better. What if that toxic love is holding you back from finding the one meant to heal your heart? Love often means burning bridges to discover new flames. So, darling, let those bridges burn—you might find your spark hidden beneath the ashes.