The Tickets He Gave Me Became My Best Friend’s Trip Instead Chapter 07

The Tickets He Gave Me Became My Best Friend’s Trip Instead Chapter 07

“Nora.”

Julian’s voice had lost its certainty. For the first time, he sounded like he was asking instead of telling.

“Don’t say something you don’t mean. I know you’re still angry about the scrapbook.”

He rushed to explain.

“Giving it to Claire was only a way to manage the situation. She helped me land the project on the south side,

and I owed her a courtesy. But you’re the only woman I love.”

He pushed the taped scrapbook toward me.

“Come home.”

Watching him lie to himself was both pathetic and almost laughable.

Keeping the peace had been his excuse for three years.

Whenever he hurt me, it was because something more important was at stake.

Whenever he chose someone else, it was because I was supposed to understand.

“Julian, do you understand a word I’m saying?”

I pushed the scrapbook back.

“I’ve started a new life here. No one calls me in the middle of the night to make hangover tea. No one needs me to play along with a lie.”

I met his eyes.

“I like my life now. Please leave.”

Julian stood trembling on the other side of the desk.

The innkeeper approached with a bowl of freshly washed fruit and stopped when she saw him.

“Nora, who’s this?”

I didn’t avoid Julian’s pleading stare.

“This is Julian Mercer. We dated for three years. We don’t anymore.”

I filled a paper cup with water and left it on the counter.

“Mr. Mercer must be in Williamsburg on business. Or perhaps he came here on vacation with his assistant, Claire.”

My tone was as courteous as it would’ve been with any other traveler.

“You’ve come a long way. Have some water.”

“And give Claire my best. I hope the two of you are very happy.”

Julian stared at the cheap paper cup. A tear slipped down his face.

I looked away and turned to the innkeeper.

“The accounts are finished. I’m going to wash up in the back.”

The lobby remained quiet for a long time. When the bell above the door finally rang, I assumed Julian had

left.

Instead, when I returned, he was sitting on the couch in the far corner.

He came back every day for the next three days. He never made a scene. He simply sat in the same corner and watched as I cleaned, checked in guests, and worked through the accounts with the innkeeper.

He seemed to believe that if he stayed long enough, his silent devotion would move me.

I never gave him so much as a glance.

On the fourth afternoon, a storm swept through Williamsburg. Rain hammered the brick sidewalks and blew beneath the awning outside Magnolia House.

Julian had no umbrella. He stood on the porch for hours, his overcoat soaked through and his body shivering uncontrollably, but he never stopped watching the inn.

The innkeeper finally handed me a cup of hot tea.

“He’s been out there all afternoon, and he looks like he’s running a fever. Take him this before he passes out on my porch.”

I carried the cup outside.

Julian brightened when he saw me.

His lips were blue with cold, but he still managed a hopeful smile.

“Nora, you still care about me, don’t you?”

He reached for the cup.

I set it on the stone step between us.

“Don’t die on the front steps. It’s bad for business.”

His hand froze in midair.

He stared at the steam rising from the cup, then at my face. Whatever he had hoped to find there wasn’t there.

The truth seemed to reach him at last.

His body swayed, and he collapsed onto the rain-soaked step.