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He looks down at me then. My cheeks feel hot as he watches me. He lifts his hand to my chin and forces me to look at him.

“You taught me what it is to be broken by the person you love, Emma Marshall,” he says then.

I gasp at the weight of his words. Just like Beaux broke me, I broke him. Tears fall from my eyes, cascading down my face. Despite the pain I’ve caused him, Julian only treats me gently. He wipes away my falling tears with his thumb. I want to lean into his touch, into his gentility, but I don’t. I don’t deserve to.

“But you also taught me what it means to love and . . .” He pauses. “How scary it is to think of putting yourself out there again.”

My brows furrow. What is he trying to say?

“I thank you for teaching me, Emma. And I understand why we couldn’t work, why Mason was the better choice for you,” he says then. “Because he can never hurt you the way I can, because what you feel for him will never be as real as what we have . . . had,” Julian corrects himself.

He looks away from me then and takes two steps back. With his movement, the imaginary chord that once connected us pulls taunt and then breaks.

Julian nods and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I just wanted you to know I get it. It hurts, but I get it,” he says.

He takes me in, looking me up and down. Clearly, sexy cupid doesn’t impress him.

“Anyway, I’m glad we had this chance to say goodbye. I didn’t think I needed it. I thought the song would be enough, but seeing you . . .” he says, shaking his head. “Seeing you made me realize I needed more. And now,” Julian breathes. “Now, I need to inform my brother of his 6:00 a.m. flight back to LA. It’s one-way,” he says.

Julian turns and . . .

“It was all a lie,” I blurt.

Julian stops.

I close my eyes and when I open them, his back is still toward me. Yet his head is turned so he can listen. I exhale and . . .

“I was never with Mason,” I say. “I only said that because . . .” I hesitate.

I said no more secrets, so no more secrets. Here goes nothing.

“I only said that because I needed you to hate me. I needed you to want to leave New Orleans,” I reveal. “I thought . . . I thought when your brother came to visit you, with me out of the way, he could convince you to leave. He never wanted you to come to New Orleans anyway,” I ramble.

“But why?” he whispers. “Why did you need me to leave the city?” Still, he refuses to face me.

I bite my lip. My heartbeat quickens. As much as I’ve anticipated this moment, I am in no way prepared for it.

“Because I was scared.” I take a step toward him. “I was scared our relationship might jeopardize your safety, and I couldn’t let that happen. I’ve been hurt too many times. I’ve lost so much, my innocence, my safe place, my trust in humanity, my family, Mr. Turnip, myself,” I reveal. “So much of me has been destroyed by a single man. I couldn’t lose you too, but . . . in trying not to lose you, in trying to protect you and shield you from whatever hell was lurking, I pushed you away. I . . . I ruined us.”

I look away from him then, remembering the moment he found me crying in the corner after I’d snuck into Lucid after hours. He held me until my tears dried and then we danced. He asked me how my day was. And, in that moment, I could’ve told him everything. I could’ve told him everything and none of this would have happened. If I’d just been honest . . . I shake my head.

But how can I say that? One different step and I would never have found out about Club Gent. One different step and so many women’s stories would’ve never been told. If my future with Julian is the price I must pay to bring Beaux and the members of Club Gent to justice, then . . . I suppose I have to accept it and all that comes with it.

I take a deep breath and . . . “And now I have to live with that,” I say with a nod. “But just know, Julian, I . . . I love you,” I reveal, closing the distance between us. “I’m in love with you like I’ve never been in love before. And everything I did, in my own twisted way, was so that we could be together, that I could be with you without the fear of moving forward, without having panic attacks, without having the memories of another man’s hands on me every time you touch me,” I choke.

I want to reach out to him, to caress his back and shoulders, but I don’t.

“And Mason never betrayed you,” I tell him. “All he did was try to help me, because he knew that’s what you would want him to do.”

Julian is quiet. He looks straight ahead, as if contemplating if he’ll stay or not. Finally, he turns to face me. His cheeks are bright red. His eyes brim with tears. They scan my face as if searching for any evidence of a lie.

“I love you, Julian Cole,” I say once more.

Julian’s lips lift into a half smile and he almost seems taken aback. He closes the distance between us and pulls me into his arms. Our lips collide. I wrap my arms around him and pull him tight against me. Julian’s hands glide down my body to my thighs. He lifts me up and I straddle him, moaning as he kisses my neck and chest.

I run my fingers through his hair as he twirls me around, pressing me up against the wall. He stops then.

“I can’t do this,” he says.

“What?”

“Not until you tell me everything. If we’re going to do this, if we’re going to work, there can’t be anymore secrets, Emma,” he tells me.

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