One Weekend with the Billionaire Chapter 88

*Julia*

The driver wanted to help me carry my stuff up the stairs, but I insisted that he leave me. Now, I am standing outside of the familiar apartment door where I lived with Jeff for over two years. It seems foreign to me, like a place I was never meant to be in the first place. The fact that I’ve come back here of my own choice seems surreal. I stand staring at the door for a long moment, unable to force myself to take this last step. I’ve made it this far. I just need to go inside. I just need to speak to Jeff and let him know that I’ll stay with him as long as he promises to leave Braxton alone. The fact that he didn’t choose the money tells me that he’s so focused on winning, he isn’t thinking straight. I know this isn’t about me. It’s about allowing another man to dictate his fate. Jeff refuses to let that happen, even when that other man is a billionaire and his boss.

I hear footsteps echoing up the nearby stairwell and know I need to go in. I don’t need neighbors seeing me standing here in the hallway with my bags. They’ll ask questions I won’t want to answer. I haven’t been watching the news, but I have a feeling our story has been in the headlines recently. I was a little surprised not to see any reporters hanging around the font of our building, but I assumed they didn’t expect anything to happen here today.

The door is locked. I fish the keys out of my pocket and slip the right one into the keyhole, but my hands are shaking as I unlock the door. Eventually, I get it open. If Jeff is home, the noise should’ve brought him to the door to investigate, but when I walk inside, I am alone. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s been a hard enough struggle just getting this far. Having to confront him now would’ve been too much.

I take my suitcases into the bedroom and put them in the closet, vowing to unpack another time. I didn’t bring back everything Braxton bought me because I have a feeling Jeff will just tear it up or throw it away anyway. I only brought back a few outfits, shoes, and pieces of jewelry. If I leave it in the bags, maybe I can tell myself there’s a chance I could go back, but I know that’s not the case. Braxton will realize soon enough that he’s better off without me, that I’ve cost him too much already. Too much time. Too much grief. Too much bad press. He’ll find someone else. And whoever she is, I hope that she can make him happy. A tear slides down my face as I think about it.

The apartment is a mess. As much as I don’t want to go back to my old way of life, I can’t live in this sort of environment either. I start in the kitchen and wash practically every dish we own. Then, I wipe down the counters and clean the stove and microwave, which looks like several cans of soup exploded in it. I tidy up the rest of the apartment and pick up all of Jeff’s dirty clothes. I’m not going down to the laundry room this late at night. It wouldn’t be safe. I’ll have to do it tomorrow.

It takes almost an hour to clean the bathroom, it’s so full of soap scum and grime. When I’m done with that, I feel like I need a shower myself, but I’m not about to mess it up again. I appreciate all of the servants at Braxton’s house even more now.

I change the sheets and pillowcases on the bed and then, when it’s almost midnight, I go into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of cheap wine. Jeff still isn’t home. I have the phone Braxton gave me, but it’s hidden away now in the floor, and I'm not using it to call Jeff. I’m sure, when he comes home, he’ll be drunk off of his ass. We won’t get any talking done tonight. That might be for the better. Or else it might be a worst case scenario for me. Jeff is always his most abusive when he is at his drunkest.

I am standing by the large window that looks out over the street, my glass in my hand, watching the lights from the cars and streetlights, seeing a few people walking along the sidewalk, wondering what sort of people are out and about in the city this time of night. No one who is up to any good, not in this neighborhood. The street is so far down from where I am standing, they look a bit like ants, though not quite as small. Pollution from the street lights hides the stars. The sky is an inky black with not even one pinprick of light leaking through the haze from the city. At Braxton’s house, you can always see the stars. Here, it’s as if they won’t even bother to show their faces.

The jingle of keys from beyond the door has me turning around. My heart begins to pound. I set my wine glass aside but I don’t stray from the window. There’s a chance he won’t even notice me here. Maybe I should hide….

Jeff stumbles in, cursing about the door sticking, which it’s done for years. He tries to hang his keys on the hook but misses. They fall on the floor with a clatter. He leaves them, cursing again. He is absolutely drunk, more so than any other time I’ve ever seen him. I notice he’s left the door unlocked and know I’ll need to lock it before we can go to bed. It’s too dangerous to leave it open.

He looks up and sees me standing by the window. For a moment, he looks as if he’s seen a ghost. Then, he starts laughing. “Julia…. Son of a bitch. I thought I’d walked into a haunted house for a moment. Maybe I have.”

“Hi, Jeff,’ I say, not sure what else to say. He stays across the room from me, leaning on a chair for support.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, and I can hear anger in his voice as he straightens up slightly.

A chill goes down my back. If he wants to beat me, there will be little I can do about it. He’s stronger than me when he’s sober. When he’s drunk… I don’t stand a chance. None of my blows would even affect him a little bit. “I came to talk to you.”

“About what?” he asks, his words slurred. “Trying to talk me into taking that goddamn settlement? I already refused!”

“I know,” I tell him. “No, I don’t want you to take it. I want you to take me instead. I came back so that you would leave Braxton alone.”

He stares at me for a second, off-balance, and then he starts laughing. “You think that you’re worth five billion dollars, Julia?”

“Of course not,” I tell him, though Braxton seemed to think I was worth at least that much. “But… I thought winning might be.”

His laughter gets more maniacal, and that fear that was already pulsing within me increases. I’m not sure why that’s funny since the only possible reason he’s refused to take the money is because he wants to win. “You stupid bitch!” he yells at me. “God, I hate you, you miserable cunt!”

Every word that he screams at me makes my hair stand on end. I tense up, pulling into myself. It’s been a while since anyone has spoken to me this way, since I left him the first time, and I’m not used to it. I’ve never liked it, but I had gotten to the point where I could ignore it. Not tonight. It makes me fearful.

He comes at me, fists up, ready to swing. I know he’s going to punch me, and I don’t think I can bear it. Since he’s drunk, he’s staggering. “Jeff, stop!” I scream. “Don’t hit me!”

It all happens so fast, it’s like a whirlwind. The door opens, and I see Stringer flying into the room just as Jeff reaches me. He grabs for my hair, his other fist ready to punch me in the face. I grab his arm, trying to pull myself free. A chunk of my hair comes out as he staggers backward, off balance. I rip myself away and step into the kitchen, tears blinding me as Jeff continues to fight to regain his balance.

The sound of glass shattering catches my ear as his arms flail in the air. I see his shoes lifting off of the ground. I hear him scream, and instinct has me grappling for him. I grab hold of his ankle, but he is falling, falling out the window. I refuse to let go of him, but he’s so heavy, and my knees are on the carpet, grinding into broken glass. His arms are reaching for me as I scream his name. “Jeff!”

He reaches for my hand, trying to grab my wrist. I grab hold of his hand as he reaches up for me, but rather than me pulling him into the room, he is pulling me out--out into the night air, out into the starless sky, out into the freefall that can only end when we hit the pavement below. I reach for the windowsill, trying to free myself, but he has a death grip on me, and I can’t foresee ever getting my freedom from Jeff again. We are going to die together.