That just about summarises my thoughts.
“Let me… go back and talk to Eleanor and Malik, I guess. See what they say and go from there. It’s too risky for us to go to the gendarmerie with this. Julien is right—though I’d like to think Salvatore Gallo can’t be bought, we can’t be sure.”
Cinn seared his gaze into Elliot. “I’m going to Paris as soon as physically possible, with or without you.” He stormed towards the stairs, unable to look at either of them any longer.
“We’ll sort it, Cinn,” Darcy called after him, but he was already taking his anger out on his poor staircase. He slammed the bedroom door for good measure. Julien should be the target of his fury, yet his image only conjured gnawing guilt. Julien charged off to face his father alone, all because he believed it would remove Cinn from danger. His idiot boyfriend had refused to even allow Cinn the chance to reason with him.
He let out a low scream of frustration, kicking the wooden bed frame, which groaned in protest. He sank to the floor. His threat to go to Paris alone was all well and good, but he couldn’t drive, had no idea how to book a plane ticket, and wouldn’t have the faintest clue how to go aboutcharging up to Julien’s father’s mansion to save him. If that even was where he was.
There’s no way Elliot and Darcy won’t help you,he reasoned with himself.They love him just as much.
Across the room, his storage chest sat quietly, its battered, weathered surface a reflection of his inner turmoil.
Cinn scooted on his hands and knees all the way over to it. Then, reaching into the very bottom of it, his hand closed around a crinkled envelope. It, and the enclosed letter, had initially lived in his bag for weeks, but were now stored here so they didn’t get further damaged.
He’d read Julien’s letter so many times he could likely recite it by now.
But still, he wanted to see the words.Neededto see them. Particularly that line written at the very bottom, just above Julien’s scrawled signature. The words that stayed with him always, etched into his heart.
Dearest Cinn,
I don’t think you know this about yourself, but you have this amazing ability to make people love you the very moment they meet you. Maybe it’s the quiet way you try and understand them. The way you see the best bits in people, even when they can’t see it in themselves.
You have every right to be angry about what I did. I’m not going to pretend for a moment it came from a place of kindness or concern for Tyler’s welfare. Instead, it came from a place of blind rage, of misguided selfishness, and of twisted possessiveness.
The truth is, I think I may have gone a little insane. When I look at you, every cell in my body shouts,mine, mine, mine. It’s this all-consuming, primal feeling that I can’t control. But I know that love is about more than just possession. It’s about respect, trust, and partnership. I know we have a long way to go before I earn the privilege of calling you mine. But I’m begging you for the chance to let me try to get there. I can’t promise you that I’ll never hurt you again, but I do promise I’ll live every day trying to be someone you’re proud of.
Because I know you deserve someone who can give you everything. All of themselves, and more. I’ve often wondered how different I would be, if I’d grown up seeing love in the eyes of my parents when they looked at each other, rather than hate, or fear. To my mother, her marriage was a prison sentence. It’s taken me a long time to understand that binding yourself to someone can be beautiful.
When she died, my heart hardened into a fortress that very few people managed to penetrate. Then you came along and slipped in like a thief in the night, bypassing all of my defences without me even realising it. You caused an avalanche of unexpected feelings to come crashing down on me, clouding my logical judgement.
After Béatrice was taken from us, I was plagued by shadows, lingering in the background of every happy moment, ready to engulf me. Then you came along. Though you’d been walking amongst shadows yourself, you so quickly dragged me out into the light again. With how you make me feel, it’s hard to imagine that our meeting wasn’t preordained by fate. I’ve spent my life doubting the existence of soulmates. I don’t know if I believe in destiny, but you are the most compelling case for it I’ve ever seen.
All my love,
Julien
Elliot knocked on the door before slowly opening it to let himself in. Cinn carefully folded the letter as Elliot slumped down next to him.
“I’m really sorry, dude. Really fucking sorry. I’ve fucked up.”
“It’s alright,” Cinn said, though it definitely wasn’t.
“Nah, it’s not. I’ve let you down, and also Julien as well.” Elliot sat back with a long soft sigh, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I made him a promise once. The first day I met him. I promised I’d stick with him, and now I’ve let him run off by himself.”
Elliot looked so mournful that Cinn’s anger evaporated, replaced by a low, heavy melancholy. He squeezed Elliot’s shoulder. “Well, it’s as you said. I know what he’s like. How persuasive he can be.”
And defiant. And infuriating. And impossible.
But despite all that, Julien washisdefiant, infuriating, impossible idiot.
Elliot nudged his leg into Cinn’s.
No, Julien was theirs.
And they were going to find him, whether he liked it or not.
thirty
