He wasn’t.
It was our first big fight.
Julian didn’t understand why I wouldn’t just let it go even though he knew I’d worked my ass off to graduate. And then he threw in my face that his dad helped pay for my education so I owed it to the family to fall in line.
It was then that I started realizing he wasn’t the same. He listed the things I owned and then asked me point-blank if I paid for them.
I couldn’t say yes.
And he smiled, smiled at me like it was some sick game. He smiled and said it would be okay, that he would always take care of me. And I believed him because I loved him, because we never fought like that, because he was just under pressure from his father, right? Because his father treated me like one of his own kids.
I realized very quickly that Edward loved you when he could control you, and he punished you when you acted out.
I shot him a middle finger emoji, then deleted it, and sent him a thumbs-up.
I hated him so much for giving me everything, including his love, and then using it as a weapon when he needed to manipulate me.
I threw the pillow across the room and closed my eyes. What could I control? Right now, I could control getting out of bed, feeding myself, and calling in sick to the children’s cancer wing where I volunteered, the one thing that Julian had approved of while he went off to work, but I could only go twice a week.
More than twice looked bad, though I’d done it a few times just to irritate him.
He made it seem like there was this weird manual for being rich and since he was all I had.
I followed it to a T.
I quickly dialed the hospital number. Annie, of course, answered.
“Hey, Annie.” My heart was in my throat. “I haven’t heard any news other than he seems to be getting better. I just . . . have you maybe heard anything?”
Her sigh was all I needed. “All I know is the place is crawling with security and he’s been moved to a private wing.”
My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “Tennysons don’t do things halfway, I guess . . .”
She laughed. “Yeah, well, I’ll call if I hear anything. The good news is, according to my sources, he made it through the night.”
For some reason that sentence stuck out to me, He made it through the night.
Would he make it through the next?
Was he suffering?
Was I a horrible person for sticking to my guns and breaking things off?
“Thanks, Annie, I won’t be in today obviously but I’ll keep you updated too.”
“Love you, friend.”
“Love you too.” More tears welled in my eyes as I finally made my way to the bathroom for a shower and then followed it with a cup of coffee.
I felt better once I had my second cup and eyed the chic flat-screen in the living room as I took another sip, followed by another. Did I even dare turn on the news?
I knew the minute I hit the power button it would click on to CNBC. After all, business was life, and information was power.
I snorted in disgust and chose coffee instead. I would go crazy if I stayed in that apartment, with memories of him, of us, of better times, worse times, a maid in my bed. Yeah, I needed to get out.
I grabbed my AirPods and decided to go for a run while I waited for the news, good or bad. I wasn’t going to change it by sitting in the apartment thinking.
And I knew if I went to any of our usual restaurants or stores, people would just ask questions.
I made a quick call to security to make sure no reporters were outside, and I was on my way.
I got my stride quickly as I weaved in and out of crowds and breathed a sigh of relief as my heart thudded against my chest.
Whatever happened, I was going to be okay.
It would be okay.
I’d survived this long.
I could do anything.
Anything.
With a smile curling my lips, I did a few more laps and decided to grab another coffee before walking the rest of the way back to the apartment. It was strange, not having appointments scheduled by the family, appearances, or even occasional texts from Julian just to say hello, which were often sent by one of the receptionists since he didn’t have the time.
Or my favorite, the random flowers and love notes that would get delivered to the hospital along with monetary donations for the children’s cancer wing that made me the envy of every single human who worked there.
“You’re so lucky!” Nurses fanned themselves. “He’s just so giving!”
“Yes, he is.” Always my perfect polished answer as I smiled and pasted a dreamy look in my eyes, when really I was thinking about how overnice he was to every female that looked at him twice, especially lately.