GIRL TIME

February 8th

“I can’t believe you’ll be moving out soon,” Lizzy whines, handing me a glass of wine as she plops down next to me on the couch. “I’m going to miss having our girl time.”

“It’s not like we won’t still see each other all the time. I’m not moving hundreds of miles away again. I’ll be right up the street.”

Sighing, she pouts, blinking her eyes at me as if begging would convince me to stay. I roll my eyes and take a sip of my wine. I’ve already imposed on her for over a month. She has to be ready to have her house back. I know I can’t wait to be in my own place. After I moved out of my parents’ house, I only lived on my own for a little over a year before I moved in with Christopher. So, I’m excited about having a space that’s all mine again.

“Still, it won’t be the same.”

“It will free up more time for Brenden,” I tease.

The two of them are so obviously falling in love with each other, but neither seem to be willing to make the first move. After they spent the night together “cuddling,” she confessed Brenden did kiss her once, but she made him promise never to do it again. Now, it’s like this waiting game trying to see which one will break first.

“Oh lord, don’t start on me.”

She cuts her eyes to me as she takes a sip from her glass, but the smile she’s trying to hide is still evident.

“What did he say when you told him you were going out of town this weekend?”

Her face contorts into a guilty expression, and she sucks in a breath through her teeth.

“About that,” she drawls. “I told him he could come with us.”

My eyes widen in surprise, and a strange feeling courses through me before settling in the pit of my belly. It’s like a mixture of jealousy, frustration, and despair—none of which I should be feeling. I should be happy for Lizzy—I am happy for her, but I’m not thrilled with the idea of having him tag along. I mean, he’s practically a stranger to me.

Honestly, I don’t want to spend the weekend watching the two of them fawn all over each other and be lovey-dovey. I picked this weekend—Valentine’s weekend—because I’m terrified of what’s happening between Eric and me. If I were here, he’d surely make a show out of it, and I’m not ready. I wanted this to be a girls only, anti-love kind of trip—one where I could shut out my thoughts and emotions, not watch the beginnings of a happily ever after.

“Excuse me?” My tone is shrill and way too harsh.

Lizzy winces and guilt gnaws at my gut like a teething toddler.

“I’m sorry,” she rushes. “He was worried about us, and—”

“No,” I interrupt, holding up my hand. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. I’m stressed is all.”

She reaches over, placing her hand on mine as her eyes try to peer inside me. My emotions begin to stir, but I stuff them back in their box and lock it up tight, forcing a smile on my face.

“Do you want to talk about it? Things at work are still better, right?” she pries, in true Lizzy fashion. Not because she’s nosey, because she genuinely cares.

When I started working with Eric, it took a serious toll on me. Of course, Lizzy noticed. So, I told her my boss was being a jerk to pacify her curiosity. What I haven’t told her is Eric is my boss. It would lead to too many questions I’m not prepared to answer. She still doesn’t even know it was him I danced with at the bar my first night back home.

I wish I could be more like her. She’s an open book, always sharing her thoughts and feelings with me. It must be so freeing. But opening that can of worms would be a disaster. I’ve never been very transparent, but since Jim, I’ve hidden every part of me, fearful someone might see the changes in me. If I tried to reveal any part of me now, everything would come exploding out, and I can’t let that happen.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Pulling my hand away from hers, I wave off her concern. “Just a lot going on this month. You know, with the trip to Atlanta for work last week, our trip back to PA this weekend, and moving into my new apartment next weekend.”

“That is a lot,” she agrees. “How did the trip to Atlanta go? I don’t think I ever got a chance to ask.”

Damn it. Why did I have to bring that up? It was incredible. I haven’t been that happy in a long time. Maybe ever. But knowing Eric has feelings for me and his intentions for us is too overwhelming. Maybe it’s the possibility of happiness that scares me, or maybe I’m afraid of that happiness turning to ash in my mouth. Perhaps both. Either way, I sense myself pushing him away, and I know he does too. It’s self-sabotage.

Heat flushes my face as the image of Eric’s arms wrapped around me floods in. Straightening my back, I try to keep myself from reacting to her question in any telling way, but the ghost of his touch swarms around me, trapping me in.

“Good.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me, and I clear my throat before taking several gulps of wine and bracing for further inquisition. Her phone begins to ring, distracting her, and I blow out a relieved breath as she reaches over to pick it up.

“Is it that time already?” My eyebrows lift as my lips curve into a smile, knowing it’s Brenden making his nightly call to her.

“I can tell him I’ll call him back,” she offers.

Shaking my head, I wave my hand. “No. It’s fine. I’m going to finish this and go to bed.”

She nods, her eyes already back on her phone, her lips curved into a soft smile. “Hello, Brenden.”

My heart swells as her face lights up. Not that long ago, she was struggling to pull herself up out of the wreckage of her husband’s death. Now, she’s finding her joy again—she’s finding herself, and it gives me hope.

She mouths a goodnight to me as she gets up from the couch and scurries off to her bedroom. After finishing my wine, I head to the spare bedroom, trying to ignore the loneliness looming over my head.

As soon as I’m settled in the bed, my phone starts to ring. Groaning, I snatch it off the nightstand, knowing without looking who it is.

“I’m tired, Chris. What do you want?”

“I got your message about coming home this weekend.”

“It’s not my home anymore.”

“Yes, it is,” he sighs. “This is where you belong. We both know you’re not happy there. We can work this out. I screwed up, but you’ve got to give me a chance to make it right.”

“I don’t, actually. Besides, I did give you a chance. It’s not like I left the day I found you fucking that woman in our bed.”

“Jesus, Julia, stop being so crude. You may have stayed, but you would barely look at me. Let me take you to dinner this weekend, we can talk. Please give me the opportunity to prove I still love you.”

The pleading in his voice has guilt knotting my stomach. A part of me knows my lack of love for him aided in his infidelity. My eyes fall to the stuffed whale beside me in the bed, and I run my hand over the soft material. Thoughts of Eric flood back in as I hug it to my body, my chest clenching. Christopher never made me feel safe and cherished the way being in Eric’s arms did, and he never looked at me the way Eric does. I don’t know why Christopher wanted to marry me or why he’s trying to win me back now, but it has nothing to do with love.

“No, Chris, I don’t think you ever really loved me, and I’ll never love you the way I should. Just let me go.”

“How can you say that?” he shouts, and I snatch the phone away from my ear. Shaking my head, I stare at it in disbelief before reluctantly bringing it back to my ear. “Are you already screwing someone else? Is that it?”

Shocked by his outburst, I blink, sucking in a harsh breath before scoffing.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s him, isn’t it? You probably couldn’t wait to go running back to him. Hell, maybe you’ve been fucking him all along.” His words are laced with venom making my blood boil and pulse race.

He has some nerve making accusations against me when he’d been the unfaithful one. He’s always been jealous of Eric, and didn’t even try to hide the joy it brought him when Eric stopped talking to me, even though he could see how much it hurt me.

“Screw you, Christopher.”

He screams for me not to hang up, but I ignore and hit the end button, my hands trembling. Tossing the phone onto the bed next to me, I wrap my other arm around my gift from Eric as a single tear rolls down my face.

Moments later, I get an apology text from Christopher, and I let out a silent scream as I turn off my phone. This weekend should be interesting.