Chapter 67

Even after the doctor left, Julian looked grim. Rosalie was completely wasted, quietly resting against his chest, her lips occasionally moving as if murmuring in her sleep. Julian adjusted his hold on her, stood from the couch, and said to Anya and Kaleb, "I'm taking her home."

Kaleb raised his eyebrows. "Weren't you here to drink with me?"

Julian hesitated, his grip on Rosalie tightening instinctively. "Some other time," he said, starting to walk away.

Anya shot him a sharp look. "Where exactly do you think you're taking Rosalie? You're nothing to her now. This is harassment!"

Julian took several deep breaths, the only thing preventing him from committing murder. Keeping his tone even, he said, "Anya, Rosalie is my wife."

Anya's words struck a nerve. If she weren't his sister, she'd be dead a hundred times over.

"Oh, so you finally remember she's your wife, huh?" Anya rolled her eyes. "Funny, because Rosalie told me she's divorcing you. She's already signed the papers."

Julian's expression darkened, and Anya's delight intensified. Leaning in, she pushed his buttons. "You know why she got drunk tonight? She was celebrating getting rid of you. She was thrilled and had a few too many."

"I mean, seriously, Julian, your ex-wife is that desperate to be free of you. Doesn't that tell you something? You're really a jerk!"