The arguing couple storms off down the alley. His friend hesitates, glancing between Jude and me. Jude mutters something too quiet to hear. The man stiffens, then follows the others without a word. And suddenly—
It’s just him.
Ten feet away.
The cigarette glows between his fingers, ash drifting to the pavement. His chest rises and falls unevenly. His eyes are heavy, red-rimmed. He’s high and undoubtedly exhausted. But beneath the sickness…
It’s still Jude.
I inch forward, cold brick scraping my palm, like the wall is trying to hold me back from making a stupid mistake. “Jude,” I whisper. The name barely makes it past my lips. “Where are you staying? Do you...need help?”
He doesn’t answer. He just stares at me with that broken, searching look—like he’s trying to decide if I’m really standing before him. Then he takes a step closer.
The familiar amber of his cologne hits me, and my whole body locks. I stop breathing.
Another step. Then he stops. He doesn’t touch me or speak. Instead, he turns away. His hoodie melts into the shadows. The cigarette flares once as he flicks it aside, dragging a dying red line through the dark.
And I’m left standing there, rooted to the concrete, numb and shaking as something in my chest splinters open. “J—Jude…” The word breaks.
Heather’s warm and steady arms wrap around me from behind. Her breath catches as she follows my stare. “Holy shit...Emma, that’s—”
She stops.
Her embrace grounds me, but it can’t fill the emptiness spreading inside my chest as I watch him disappear. The streetlight catches the sharp line of his jaw one last time. A flicker of the boy I loved—buried somewhere inside the man walking away.
And deep down, something breaks all over again.
The hotel room smells faintly of the citrus spray they must use between guests. I drop my purse on the dresser and sit on the edge of the bed, my hands still trembling. Heather paces for several minutes before she finally turns to me, eyes wide.
“Emma—what the hell happened out there? Was that really him?”
I nod, my throat burning. “Yeah.” My voice cracks. “It was...it was him.”
She sits beside me, her hand on my back, gentle and tentative. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.” The word breaks in half as it leaves me. “He justlookedat me. Like, he didn’t even recognize me. Like…” I swallow hard, shaking my head. “Heather, he lookedawful. His eyes were glassy, and he could barely stand straight. He’s so...gone. He’s gone.”
Heather frowns, her expression softening. “Em…”
“I’m scared for him,” I whisper. “He looked like he was barely holding on. I don’t even know what he’s doing here, or who those people were, but—” My breath shudders. “It’s like he’s not even alive anymore.” A sob escapes me, my eyes squeezing shut.
Heather doesn’t try to stop me when the tears come. She just squeezes my hand, her thumb brushing against my knuckles as I cry. I can’t stop shaking.
“I thought I was over him,” I say through the tears, voice trembling. “I thought that if I saw him again, I’d be okay. But he looked at me, and it’s like everything inside me just—” I pressmy hand to my chest, trying to keep it together. “He still has me. Even after everything. He still has me. The love we used to have was…”
Heather’s eyes glisten when I can’t finish, but she nods quietly. “You should shower, honey. You need to breathe.”
I nod, numb. “Yeah. Yeah, I just...I need a minute.”
The bathroom light is harsh, the mirror fogging fast as I turn the water on. When I step under the spray, it’s too hot, but I don’t care. I brace my hands against the tile and let the water soak my hair, pour over my face until I can’t tell if the wetness on my cheeks is from the shower or from crying.
My body shakes with every breath. My chest aches so deeply I can feel it in my bones. I loved him so damn much. And I’m terrified I still do. I don’t understand it.
Chapter nine
JUDE GRAVES
The limo smells like old leather and Nolan’s obnoxious cologne. The city blurs past the windows in streaks of neon and brake lights, everything bleeding together like one long, shitty dream I can’t wake up from.