"The heart isn’t like the liver. It doesn’t regenerate, no matter how much time passes. Once it’s gone, it’s gone for good. I’d left mine with Sebastian when I walked away that day, and I hadn’t seen it in the seven years since.” — Lux Kincaid
At eighteen, Lux is forced to make a choice. One that nearly destroys her.
She breaks a boy’s heart.
She breaks her own, too.
Seven years later, Lux never expects to see Sebastian again — especially not when her career as a journalist is hanging by a thread and she’s stumbled onto the story of a lifetime. As she chases down leads and explores the dark underbelly of Manhattan, Lux will put her life on the line. But after crossing paths with a still-unforgiving Sebastian, it’s her heart she’s most worried about.
Amidst the blame and the betrayal, the hurt and the heartbreak… can two lost lovers ever find their way back to one another?
Lines will be blurred. The past will be unearthed. And Lux will find out that some secrets aren’t meant to be kept…
SAY THE WORD BY JULIE JOHNSON – EXCERPT #1
I’m not a bad person.
I vote, I pay my taxes on time, and I make funny faces at babies in the supermarket to make them laugh. I tear up at those awful animal cruelty commercials Sarah McLaughlin is always singing on, and I shower on a regular basis. I donate to charities even though I’m still juggling monthly student loan and car payments on top of my rent and grocery expenses. I stay out of the drama at work because work is hard enough to get through without wondering which of my catty coworkers is going to stab me in the back with a knife clutched in her perfectly manicured fingers. I don’t smoke or drink excessively – fine, I admit,
occasionally I may indulge in a few too many glasses of merlot, but nobody’s perfect – and I force myself to go running in Central Park at least three times a week. By anyone’s standards, I’m normal. A girl with her act together. Some might even call me “nice” and, for the most part, they’d be right.
I’m not a bad person.
I’m just not a particularly good one either.
To be fair, you can’t ever really consider yourself a good person when you’ve been singlehandedly responsible for the utter destruction of another person’s happiness. And that’s really the only term you can use to describe what I did to Sebastian Covington all those years ago – I
destroyed him. I watched unflinchingly as the life and love drained out of his eyes, and walked away without a backward glance.
It’s kind of funny how a decision you make when you’re eighteen can change your whole life forever. And by
funny I mostly mean
absolutely fucking terrible. When I broke off our relationship, I knew I was hurting him worse than he’d ever been hurt. Harder, though, was the knowledge that I was putting myself through unimaginable pain from which I would never recover.
I still remember that evening so clearly; I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Two eighteen year old kids, standing at our spot by the old oak behind his house. The hot summer sun was setting and a slight breeze chilled the air as we stood a few paces apart staring at one another. Bash could read me better than anyone – even before I’d spoken, I think he knew what was coming. His eyes had changed, an unfamiliar wariness filling them as soon as my lips parted.
I’d taken a deep breath and forced myself to say the words that would tear us apart forever. And when I’d turned my back and walked away, haunted by the look of betrayal and incomprehension in his eyes, I’d known we’d never speak again. The damage I’d inflicted with my words had cut too deep to ever really heal. I didn’t let myself cry then – that would come later, when I was alone in my bedroom and could finally allow the dull ache of my shattered heart to spread through my system like a lethal paralytic.
I’d known then, at eighteen, that my case of heartbreak was terminal, incurable. It wasn’t “puppy love” or “first love” or any of the loves that supposedly fade with time and large quantities of ice cream. Because when you walk away from your soul mate – when you take real, true love and throw it in the fire and watch as it burns down to ashes – you know you’ll never be the same again. The heart isn’t like the liver; it doesn’t regenerate, no matter how much time passes. Once it’s gone, it’s gone for good.
I’d left mine with Sebastian when I walked away that day, and I hadn’t seen it in the seven years since.
Julie Johnson is a twenty-two year old Boston native. When she's not writing, Julie can most often be found drinking too much coffee, stalking Goodreads for new books to add to her ever-growing TBR list, watching reruns of Veronica Mars, or studying psychology. Julie enjoys cooking, travel, photography, and spending time with her friends and family.
You can find Julie on Facebook at www.facebook.com/juliejohnsonbooks or on her website at www.juliejohnsonbooks.com. Sometimes, when she can figure out how Twitter works, she tweets from @AuthorJulie.
