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“My Nathaniel…he tends to get bored. He enjoys unraveling people, enjoys playing. He does it most summers and then he returns to school, focused on his future. You’re not the first, Ms. Monroe. And you will not be the last.”
But as I walked up to the cottage, pushing back long branches from my face, I felt in my bones it would take endless amounts of seasons to forget how Nathaniel Radcliffe made me feel.
I knew as soon as I walked through that door I would be breaking my own heart. A heart I had guarded from everyone for so long. A heart that belonged to him.
And for once in my life, I wished someone would see right through my lies. That he would spare me this hurt.
I hadn’t taken the money, but Mrs. Hawthorne had spoken to Nathaniel and told him I had.
NO WAY WHAT A BITCH
I wanted to scream, I wanted to kiss him and tell him he owned my heart. That I loved him. I love you.
I had fallen for a god and I had to give him up to keep his immortality.
The summer was over and so were we.
“What are you looking at?” His smile widened. “Just the girl Nathaniel has been obsessing over for what feels like centuries.”
“I know how important your future is and I wasn’t going to be the reason you lose it.”
“I love you, Juliette. And I choose you. I’ll always choose you,”
“If I want to be your husband one day, I know I’ll have to negotiate every single day to keep you happy,” he said, smiling one of those rare smiles I adored.
STOP YOURE JOKING RN-
“I’m a greedy, overachieving bastard, Juliette. I examined the risks and you’re worth the fall.”
I’ve had my eyes set on you since the beginning, Juliette. But it was never the right moment to approach you. Until—there you were, cleaning up my room at the estate—away from school, away from the expectations and the curious eyes. There was an opportunity, and I took it, hoping you’d end up wanting me for more than just sex.”
His lips tilted up at one side. Then, he kissed my forehead tenderly. “You’re my future, Juliette.”
I didn’t need a house, but I did need him. He was my home.
My heart had two settings: nothing at all or too much. Nothing in-between and the day I saw Juliette Monroe, her glare like that of a Roman army and her mind sharper than their blades, I knew I wanted all of her or nothing at all.
Being an only child, I spent most of my time with adults and learned the way people warred within their conversations.
once again, relatable
On my second day at Yale, I had found a beauty hidden between the aisles of its sacred books.
I wanted her anger, I wanted her frustration and respect. And I had it. All of it.
I needed her now. I needed to kiss her, worship her, and hold her.
I swallowed my pride, I swallowed my pain. If she needed more time, I would wait. I would always wait for her.
“I’ll gladly carry you down the aisle if I have to,” I told her, not hiding my smile.
I laughed. “Well, I did always say I wanted to see you pregnant and barefoot in our kitchen.”
“You’re my future. The only one that matters. You know that. And now this one,” I said, hand flat on her stomach. “Is part of that beautiful future, too and I couldn’t be happier.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you—you bastard,” she whispered between kisses. “Then marry me tonight,” I muttered into her lips.
“I love you now. I love you always. Marry me tonight. I’ll make an honest woman out of you before we scandalize my mother any more than we already have. Calling you Mrs. Radcliffe will make me one happy bastard.”
And no family name, political agenda or amount of money was worth being able to love Juliette every single day—until the day I died.
IM SOBBING
