Chapter 8
The rain poured down on the streets of Washington,
washing away the oppressive summer heat.
Julian sat in a cheap motel room on the outskirts of the city,
staring blankly at the peeling wallpaper.
The Vance mansion had been seized by the federal government,
all their bank accounts frozen pending the embezzlement investigation.
Eleanor was staying with a distant relative,
crying every day,
unable to cope with the loss of her social status.
Richard was sitting in a federal holding cell,
awaiting trial.
Julian had lost his home,
his inheritance,
and his pride.
He picked up his phone,
staring at the cracked screen,
and pulled up a picture of Jacqueline.
It was an old photo,
taken on the day he had graduated from military training.
She was smiling brightly,
looking at him with absolute adoration.
He had thrown that love away,
traded it for a cheap imitation of affection from Khloe.
A knock on the motel door broke his miserable thoughts.
Julian stood up slowly,
his body aching from sleeping on the terrible mattress,
and opened the door.
Khloe stood in the rain,
soaking wet,
her makeup running down her face in dark streaks.
"Julian,"
she sobbed,
throwing herself at him.
He caught her out of pure reflex,
but his arms remained stiff at his sides.
"What do you want, Khloe,"
he asked,
his voice dead,
empty of any emotion.
"Marcus kicked me out,"
she cried,
clinging to his shirt.
"He said I was bad luck,
he blamed me for his bankruptcy,
you have to help me."
Julian looked down at the woman who had ruined his life,
and he felt absolutely nothing.
No anger,
no love,
just a hollow,
sickening realization of his own stupidity.
"I have nothing left, Khloe,"
Julian said,
stepping back and peeling her hands off his shirt.
"Because of you,
because of my own weakness for you,
I lost my entire world."
Khloe looked at him,
her eyes wide with panic.
"But we love each other,
remember the airport,"
she pleaded desperately.
"You held me,
you chose me."
Julian let out a bitter,
hollow laugh.
"I did not choose you, Khloe,
I just forgot the value of what I already had."
He looked her up and down,
seeing past the pretty face to the selfish,
manipulative core underneath.
"Go away, Khloe,"
he ordered,
his voice hardening.
"Do not ever come near me again."
He slammed the door in her face,
locking it with a heavy click.
He slid down the door,
sitting on the cheap carpet,
and buried his face in his hands.
He had finally realized the truth,
but it was far,
far too late.
Jacqueline was gone,
soaring higher than he could ever reach,
May you like
and he was trapped in the dirt,
exactly where he belonged.
