Page 87 of Julien (Confessions 2)

“I know. But you’re never stupid, Julien. You were just a little less perfect than you usually are.”

Julien shook his head but realized too late that that was the wrong thing to do and winced. “I’m far from perfect, mon amour.”

“Perfect for me, and perfect for the man out there waiting to come and see how you are this morning.”

Mon Dieu. Julien wasn’t sure he could face Robbie right now. He couldn’t remember half of last night, and that was starting to freak him out.

“Would you stop worrying?” Priest said, and drew his fingers down Julien’s cheek.

“I would if I could remember what happened. The last thing I do remember is—” Julien stopped talking then, the bitter memory of his parents’ desertion not something he wanted to really think about.

“Julien…”

“I can’t believe they’re not here.”

“I know.”

“Fuck,” Julien said, his anger once again bubbling up.

“I assume you don’t know where they went?”

“Non. That would mean they would actually have to talk to me.” Julien rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t believe they did this. Why? Am I so—”

Priest put a finger to Julien’s lips. “Stop. Do not finish that sentence. And do not blame yourself for their shortsightedness. Do you hear me?” Julien shut his eyes, and when Priest removed his finger, he leaned in and said against Julien’s lips, “It takes strength to forgive. To walk away and forget is the easy way. The coward’s way.”

Julien wrapped his hands around Priest’s and shut his eyes, holding on to the man who’d always been there. Holding on to the man who’d rescued him when his own parents decided he wasn’t worth saving.

“But Robbie. What must he think?”

“He’s fine.”

“Merde,” Julien said, surprised that Robbie hadn’t called a cab and headed to the airport. “Tell me what happened last night.”

“You were upset,” Priest said. “But nothing you did or said was anything he didn’t need to hear. He knew something troubled you. That you have ghosts that you deal with.”

“Joel,” Julien said, and stared into eyes full of compassion. As always, he tried to understand what it was that Joel Priestley saw in him. “Je suis désolé.”

“You need to stop saying you’re sorry. If anything came of last night, it’s that now he understands.”

Julien slowly pulled his hands free and looked away from Priest, unable to accept the forgiveness he saw there, especially when he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“Julien—”

“Non.” Julien didn’t want to hear the excuses Priest would make for him. He’d heard them a million times before. “Don’t try and tell me I shouldn’t feel like this, that it’s not my fault. I need to feel this.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you that,” Priest said. “I was going to tell you that as long as I’ve known you, you have never taken the easy way out. You come up here, to the place where the worst night of your life happened, and you punish yourself for something that was no more your fault than it was hers, and Julien?” Priest took his chin and made Julien face him. “It’s time that you forgave yourself.”

As Priest’s words lingered between them, Julien realized his face was becoming a blur. “I don’t know how.”

“I might.” Robbie’s voice from the bedroom door had both Julien and Priest looking over. “Can I come in?”

“Of course, princesse,” Julien said, as Priest released him and Robbie walked over. Julien wiped away a tear that had just rolled down his cheek, and when his eyes cleared, he was stunned to see a bone-deep understanding in Robbie’s blue depths.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Robbie said, his voice soft and slightly hesitant. But when Priest took his hand and nodded, urging him to continue, he went on, “It’s about Jacquelyn.”

Julien was stunned to his core by the nonjudgmental tone in Robbie’s voice—in his entire demeanor, really—and found himself at a loss for words. How could Robbie still be there with them after everything he now knew? How could he not be disgusted with Julien? Not hate him for what he’d allowed to happen to his own sister?

But non, all he saw in Robbie’s eyes was acceptance, and a light shining through after the darkest of nights, showing Julien the way through to the other side of his despair.

Robbie held his other hand out, and when Julien took it, Robbie entwined their fingers, and just like that, all three of them were connected.

“How do you think she’d want to be remembered?” Robbie asked, and Julien was speechless. He had no idea what to say. No one had ever asked him that, and as he stared blankly at Robbie, he gave Julien a small, hesitant smile.

“It’s just…” Robbie paused as though choosing his words carefully. “This destroys you. Walking back into this house. It’s as if you see her—”

“Die over and over again,” Julien whispered.

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