Page 152 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“What if they’re not lies?”
The words slip out before I can stop them. The fear I’ve been carrying since I was old enough to understand that I inherited more than just my father’s eyes.
“They are lies,” Juliet says firmly. “I know who you are, Hunter. I’ve seen you angry, I’ve seen you lose control. I’ve also seen you put yourself back together. You’re not a monster.”
“My mother thinks I am.”
“Your mother is sick. And cruel. She’s wrong.”
She says it with such certainty that for a moment, I almost believe her.
“What if this ruins everything for you? You were defending me when the universe thinks we’re engaged. You put your career and your reputation on the line. What if people think you’re just as messed up as I am?”
“Maybe I don’t care what people think.” She touches my jaw so gently, like I’m made of porcelain. “I know you, Hux. The Chainsaw is a made up character. I see you trying to please people, but you don’t have to. You can let go.”
I suck in a breath. “What if I can’t?”
Juliet laces her fingers through mine. “I’ll still be here.”
I lie there in the dark, her warmth pressed against my side, trying to process everything that’s happened. The press conference, the headlines, the way she just walked into my breakdown like it was nothing.
Like she wasn’t afraid of me.
Like she wasn’t planning to leave.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper. “I don’t know how to let someone care about me without waiting for them to leave.”
She lays her head on my chest. “You don’t have to know how. You just have to let me.”
Her fingers trace patterns on my chest, and I can feel some of the tension draining out of my shoulders.
“I’m wrecked,” I tell her. “You know that, right? I’m completely fucked up.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still here.”
“I’m still here.”
I don’t push her away, stop her, or try to convince her she’s making a mistake. I’m too tired to keep fighting the one person who always seems to have my back.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?” Her breath fans against my chest.
“For what you did today. For this.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
We lie there in comfortable silence. This is so different from anything I’ve ever experienced. The way she doesn’t need me to be anything other than what I am. She seems to see all my damage and yet she doesn’t run.
The way she went to war for me without being asked.
Maybe I’m not too broken for this. Maybe with her I can be something better.
Maybe I already am.
