LUCAS JONES
I don’t want to keep coming to my brother’s house, but it seems like I’ll be coming here for a long time now until all of this madness is over.
“Drink?” Juliet asks, already handing me a glass of whiskey on the rock.
I stare at it and then up at her.
“I am not here for a drink. Whatever it is, you better make it quick. I have stuff to do,” I say.
She shrugs and drinks the same drink that was meant for me.
“Or maybe you are afraid history might repeat itself if you share a drink with me? Don’t worry, I won’t tell your wife about it,” She giggles so annoyingly.
I cannot believe I no longer see Juliet the same as I did in the past twenty-eight years. She disgusts me, and after my brother passed away, I kept a safe distance away from her. She is malicious, and right now
