Page 126 of Ungodly Rich

Sometimes she let herself wonder where he was now. What had he thought, when he’d woken the next day and realized she was missing?

He’d probably been confused, and surprised, but had gone back to New York and resumed his life without her. She suspected that was what they’d all done. They would be back at their jobs, Harry and Valentine still sneaking around, Hector still oblivious, because that was how people like that behaved. They made messes and left them for someone else to clean up.

It was a good thing, Julia told herself, that she’d learned of Harry’s affair before she’d married him.

Abby knew where she was, of course. So did her aunt and uncle. Julia hadn’t shared all the details with them—just that she and Harry had decided at the last minute not to go through with the wedding, and that she’d left the country for some much-needed space. She’d emailed Lucy at the gallery, too, a brief email that apologized and offered her resignation. Lucy had sent a rambling, paragraphs-long response that effectively said,No chance I’m hiring anyone else, I’m holding this job for you in case you decide to come back. Also, I hope you’re okay.

Finally, Julia had sent a postcard to Percy from the Santiago airport once she’d landed. She hadn’t signed it, but Percy would know who it was from.

She was partway down the path to the river—relaxed by the sunshine and JB’s swaying gait and the way everything looked so glittering and bright, as if seen through a magnifying glass—when she was jolted by the sound of her name. Her real name.

“Julia! Julia!”

She twisted in the saddle and saw him, galloping down the trail with reckless speed. A knot arose in her throat, a mixture of resentment and sadness and, yes, yearning. She drew JB to a halt, patting his neck reassuringly as Harry slowed alongside her.

“Julia!” Harry exclaimed. He wasn’t the slightest bit out of breath, even after running his horse at full speed, at this altitude. She noted angrily that he was mounted on Santos, a dappled gray who was one of the more spirited horses in the stable. Had Lorena realized she was helping Julia’s ex-fiancé?

“You found me,” she said flatly.

“Look, I know you have no desire to see me, but we need to talk,” Harry asked. “Just for a couple of minutes.”

“I don’t really have anything to say to you.”

“Please,” he begged. “Just hear me out, and if you still want me to go, I swear that I’ll leave you in peace, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

Julia knew she would say yes. No matter what he’d done, this was still Harry. She still loved him, no matter how great a fool it made her.

If she didn’t at least listen to whatever he wanted to say, she would spend the rest of her life wondering.

“I was headed to the river,” she said curtly. “You can come with me.”

They descended the slope in silence, the horses’ hooves knocking pebbles loose. They could hear the roar of the water farther down, but here, the river was just a fast-running brook, only several inches deep.

At the bank, JB lowered his head. Julia dismounted in a smooth motion, leaning against her horse’s side as he drank.

“I didn’t know you could ride like this.” Harry sounded impressed.

“I couldn’t, until now. You learn a lot of things when you’re forced to start over,” Julia said tersely.

She knelt to refill her bottle from the river, its water the pristine clear of glaciers. It reminded her of that night Harry had taken her camping in the Catskills: the cold shock of the waterfall, the heat of Harry’s skin on hers. Julia shook her head angrily, trying to dispel the memories.

Harry drew in a breath. “I want to explain what happened the night before our wedding. And then, if you still hate me, you can forget this whole conversation. You’ll go back to what you thought before, that I’m a cheating asshole.”

“But youarea cheating asshole.”

“Julia, I thought it wasyouin my bed!”

She faltered at the sheer agony, the earnestness, of his tone. What was he saying, that he’d been so blacked out that he didn’t even recognize Valentine? But he’d hardly had anything to drink that night.

“What do you mean?” she asked warily.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner. I tried once, that night we went camping in the Catskills, but then you fell asleep….” Harry shook his head, started again. “What I’m about to say will sound impossible, but I’m begging you to listen. My family…we aren’t like other people.”

“Funny enough, I noticed that myself,” Julia said dryly. “You have too much money and not enough morals.”

“We are gods,” Harry replied.

Julia looked over at him. He was still standing next to his horse, his expression completely serious.