The front door flies open.
“JULIETTE—Juliette—”
I spin around.
Warner is standing there, face flushed, chest rising and falling, staring at me
like I might be a ghost. He strides across the room before I have a chance to say
a word and cups my face in his hands, his eyes searching me. “Are you okay?”
he’s saying. “God—are you okay? What happened? Are you all right?”
He’s here.
He’s here and all I want to do is fall apart but I don’t.
I won’t.
“Thank you,” I manage to say to him. “Thank you for coming—”
He wraps me up in his arms, not caring about the eight sets of eyes watching
us. He just holds me, one arm tight around my waist, the other held to the back
of my head. My face is buried in his chest and the warmth of him is so familiar
to me now. Oddly comforting. He runs his hand up and down my back, tilts his
head toward mine. “What’s wrong, love?” he whispers. “What happened? Please
tell me—”
I blink.
“Do you want me to take you back?”