Page 7 of The Best Worst Mistake
“Look, Iknowyou don’t need anything from me, but I would feel like a real ass if I—”
“Got it.” She stands taller and crosses her arms the other way, nodding like her head’s attached to a spring. “You’ve done your due diligence now, thank you. Thank youso, so much. You’ve offered me the one thing you have to give. The only thing you’ve ever had to give, turns out. But, if that’s all you came herefor, then you can head back out to yourdriver. Poor guy looks like he needs sleep nearly as much as I do. So . . .”
She holds her breath and stares at the wall behind my head. Dismissing me with silence.
I blink, my feet nailed to the floor. I didn’t want to come here, but now I don’t want to leave.
“I’m selling the building, by the way,” she declares suddenly, still avoiding my eyes. “The Smithfield. Unless you want it back. I’ve already decided.”
For the last three years, Grant has been running his nonprofit out of the Smithfield building that I gave him soon after my father died. The Starlight Foundation was in a rough patch at the time, and the building alleviated some of his overhead, allowing him to keep going.
“No, I don’t want it back. Sell it if you want. Keep whatever you can get for it.”
“I don’tneedthe money.” She glares at me.
“We don’t need to talk business right now, Jules. Just call me in a few days or months, hell, years, if you want to talk about it then.”
“I don’t need a reason to get in touch unless there’s areasonyou don’t want it back?” She tilts her head, studying me.
“It was a gift. I’m not taking it back. It’s yours. Do whatever you want with it. I’ll help with the sale though, if you need. Dax can take care of it for you.”
Her breath picks up, the rise and fall of her chest bordering on panic like she wants to say something else, but her eyes find that empty spot on the wall again. She bites her lip to stop tears from forming.
“Jules,” I try again, but she’s quick to stop me.
“It’s been a fucking long day, Si. Surely you, of all people, can understand how burying the dead just doesn’t really put one in the mood to talkfinances. But you know the worst part of this?”She circles the heavy air between us with her hand. “I thought that maybe you coming here—” Her voice wavers, then her eyes flood.
Fuck.
Just as I’m about to fill the silence — apologize for comingagain, apologize for more if she’ll let me — she beats me to it.
“But no.” She throws her hands up. “Here I was, stupid enough to think that my heart couldn’t break any more than it already had. And then here you come offering me some cold hard cash tonight — the day I buried him — you arrogant asshole prick of a man.”
The dayweburied him, Jules.I want to correct her, but I don’t.
Her eyes sear mine like she sees straight through me, and I wish she could because then she’d know that none of this was ill-willed between us.
A lone tear slides down her cheek. I pray to God it’s the only one, but another one comes.
And another.
Without thinking, I close the gap between us and grab her arms, pulling her into a hug before tucking her head under my chin. Completely aware that I shouldn’t be the one hugging her right now, but no one should cry alone. Especially while someone else just stands there watching. Even more so when it’s just Jules and me.
For one quick moment, the air dissolves into something more calm and familiar.
Me hugging Jules.
Jules almost hugging me.
Until she starts shoving me.
Hard.
“Silas, I’m fine. Really. I—” She pushes against my chest with fists balled up like battering rams positioned to bring a heavy blow.
I instantly let her go and hold both my palms up in front of me again. We stare at each other, chests heaving from whatever the hell that was.
When did we turn into this? Where I can’t even hug her after losing someone?
