His Betrayal: Choosing Her Over Me

Leia watched the worry etched into Julian’s face as he spoke softly to Piper, and a sharp, achey pang twisted through her chest. Once, that warm bright light in Julian’s eyes had been hers alone. Now it shone only for Piper, and he didn’t even see it anymore.

With that thought, Piper stood, her gaze shifting subtly before she spoke in that soft, calm tone. “Julian, don’t blame Leia. Look how scared she is.”

“Alright,” he answered.

“Leia, thank you for saving me. I can never repay you for what you did, but I owe you my gratitude.” To Leia’s complete shock, Piper lowered herself to her knees. Leia stumbled back fast, her hand hanging awkwardly in mid-air when she moved to help her up. That’s when she caught it—a flash of mockery glinting in Piper’s eyes. But to anyone watching, Piper looked frail, on the verge of collapse right there on her knees.

“Piper!” Julian shouted, lunging forward to catch her before she hit the floor.

Leia froze, her mind going completely blank. Had she really just seen a mocking smirk in Piper’s eyes? Before she could overthink it, she lifted her head to look.

Julian was holding Piper right in front of her, their bodies pressed close, their eyes locked on each other. The sight drove a knife straight through Leia’s already broken heart.

Julian’s voice, soft and edged with quiet reproach, drifted over to her…

“You always make me worry, pushing yourself when you’re sick like this.”

Piper pouted, wiping at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Julian. I just wanted to thank Leia properly. If she hadn’t been there, I would’ve…”

Tears streamed down her delicate cheeks as she spoke, the whole thing gut-wrenching to watch.

“Alright, I’ll thank her myself. You look like crap, let’s get you to bed to rest.”

“Okay!”

With that, Julian lifted her into his arms and headed straight up the stairs. He didn’t even glance back at Leia once.

Leia stared after the man who had once been hers. Dazed, she caught another flash: the smug little smile on Piper’s lips, clear as day, a blatant challenge thrown right in her face. Leia staggered, nearly tipping over right where she stood.

That look sent a cold chill crawling all the way down her spine.

It must’ve just been her imagination.

“Miss, careful!” Mary the housekeeper hurried over to steady her.

Leia forced a smile. “I’m fine. Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”

“It is, miss. Please, have a seat.”

Leia frowned a little when she looked at the spread of bland, spice-less food on the table. She’d always loved spicy food, but this plain, boring fare killed her appetite stone dead.

Mary hesitated before she spoke. “Mr. Shaw requested it. He said Miss Piper’s health is fragile, so we need to adjust all meals to her taste.”

“Oh. That’s fine.”

Leia swallowed hard, the taste of bitter ash coating her tongue.

When Mary left, Leia picked listlessly at her food, and tears started falling like raindrops onto her plate. She buried her face in her pasta to hide them, scarfing the whole thing down in a hurry, smears of tomato sauce left clinging to her cheek.

Thirty minutes after dinner, Julian still hadn’t come downstairs. She grabbed her bag and headed up to the guest wing.

When she passed Julian’s bedroom, she heard voices drifting through the closed door.

“Julian, do you really mean to let Leia stay here with us?”

“No, she’s only here until she finds a new place. It’s just a few days, that’s all.”

“But it’s so awkward. We’re getting married soon! Having all three of us under the same roof is uncomfortable,” Piper complained.

Julian sighed. “She saved both of us, after all. We can’t just kick her out onto the street.”

“I know that, but I just…”

“It’ll be over soon, love. She’ll be gone before you know it,” Julian cooed gently.

“Then kiss me.”

“You’re impossible,” he said, soft and indulgent, before lowering his head. The second their lips touched, Leia’s knees went weak. Her nose stung, and she could barely breathe, like the air had been sucked right out of her lungs.

She saw them, curled together on the bed, kissing, and heard his soft, tender confession. “Piper, I love you.”

Leia couldn’t take another second of it. She stumbled back to the guest room. The room she’d once shared with Julian was Piper’s now. She had nowhere else to go.

In the guest bathroom, faint, muffled sobs echoed off the tiles.

He’d never kissed her. Always said it was too germy. But he kissed that woman without a second thought.

What a convenient fucking excuse.

After he’d settled Piper into bed, Julian remembered Leia and headed for the guest room.

When he opened the door, it was empty—except for the sound of soft crying coming from the closed bathroom door.

Julian hurried over, his brow furrowed tight with worry.

“Leia? You in there?”

Hearing his voice, Leia cut off her sobbing immediately. She answered soft and steady. “Just using the bathroom.”

Her voice was still thick with tears, and Julian didn’t buy it for a second. He turned the handle and pushed the door open, and there she was: cheeks flushed, streaked with salt tracks from her crying.

Her delicate features were damp with tears, the little dimple in her cheek still visible even when she was exhausted from crying.

A sharp, inexplicable ache squeezed Julian’s heart. He rushed over, grabbing her hand urgent. “Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?”

Leia blinked, dazed for a second, before yanking her hand back. She spoke soft and quiet. “It’s nothing. Just got a little emotional, that’s all.”

Her red-rimmed eyes were still brimming over with tears, and she kept her head bowed.

Julian’s frown deepened. “Leia, since when do you lie to me?”

“I’m not lying!” she insisted stubbornly. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t admit any of it.

She couldn’t tell him about the baby. Or the cancer.

She couldn’t say she couldn’t bear to leave him.

She couldn’t say she hated Piper with every fiber of her being.

Any of that would just make her look manipulative. And besides, she was the one who’d asked him to sign the divorce papers in the first place.

Julian shook his head, turned, and grabbed a clean hand towel. He soaked it in warm water, then lifted it to gently wipe her tear-streaked face.

“If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to. Look at you, face all messy like a little kitten who got into the cream. When’d you turn into such a crybaby?”

“You never grow up. How the hell am I supposed to hand you off to someone else and sleep easy at night?”

“When I’m not around, you have to take better care of yourself. You’re twenty-five now, it’s time to grow up.”

His words were soft and tender, his touch gentle and brimming with all the old worry he still carried for her. It pulled Leia right back into old memories.

He’d taken care of her so meticulously, once. Insisted she only drink her coffee exactly how she liked it. Knew she loved to sleep in, so he’d carry her out of bed every morning, luring her out with fluffy blueberry pancakes.

When she was too lazy to wash her face, he’d wring out a towel and do it for her. And when she skipped her skincare routine for too long, he’d book her a monthly facial and send her off, no arguments allowed.

All that care had turned her into a total helpless mess when it came to everyday life without him.

Thinking of that, she snapped back to the present. In the bathroom mirror, she saw him standing behind her, his big strong hand tangled in her curls, focused on smoothing down the messy strands.

He looked so handsome in that moment, unbearably, achingly handsome.

Suddenly, she remembered where they were, and who he was now with. She shoved him away hard, frowning up at him. “Don’t do that. I’m not a kid anymore. Besides, don’t you care if Piper sees us like this and gets jealous?”

“In my eyes, you’ll always be just a kid,” he chuckled, and tweaked her nose playfully, his gaze soft and full of old fondness.