“Is she okay? How is she?” I asked before feeling immensely stupid.

Of course she wasn’t okay. How could she be?

“She’s upset, James. Confused. Angry. Sad,” Jeanine explained.

My heart fucking ached with every beat. I wanted to fix this for her, for her family, and for us.

“Is she mad at me? Why didn’t she call me and tell me? Does she know you’re telling me?”

Her head shook quickly. “She doesn’t know I’m telling you. I tried to get her to call you last night, but she wouldn’t do it. She’s pretending like she doesn’t have feelings for you so that this all hurts less.”

“Yeah”—I cracked a slight smile—“she’s good at that.”

Jeanine turned overly defensive of her best friend, her back straightening as she cast me a glare. “Good at what exactly?” she questioned.

“Pretending like she doesn’t like me,” I said innocently.

Jeanine relaxed. “Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

“I know.”

“Look, Julia didn’t want to tell you, but I thought you should know. I thought you would want to know what was going on with her, especially after what happened between the two of you.”

She offered me a sympathetic look, and I got up from the barstool and stood in front of her, my frame towering over hers.

“Thank you.” I placed my hands on her shoulders before pulling her in for a hug. “I really appreciate you giving me a heads-up. I would have had no idea, and when I eventually found out, it would have killed me.”

She pulled out of my grasp and squeezed my face. “I know. I figured as much. Now, do me a solid and fix this mess,” she said before walking away and leaving me alone with my thoughts.

My mind had already been spinning with ways on how to make this right between Julia and her dad, but now that Jeanine had put the responsibility squarely on my shoulders, it almost felt too heavy to bear.

How could I possibly repair the damage when I was the one to cause it in the first place?

Shaking my head, I found myself growing angry. I wasn’t the reason her dad had kicked her out. Sure, I might have been the scapegoat for it, but it really had nothing to do with me, and I refused to sit here any longer and take the blame. The feud between our families had gone on long enough, and I, for one, no longer wanted to participate in it. There couldn’t be a war between two sides if one side wasn’t fighting.

I knew what I needed to do. I just had no idea if I’d actually survive it.

*  *  *