“Forget what?” she asks gently.
“Forget that I’m in love with her.”
She tilts her head and looks at me curiously. “Did it work?”
I’ve never really let myself think about it. I guess because when I do, I realize that running isn’t really getting me anywhere. “Maybe I just assumed it was working because I didn’t have to see her every day. I didn’t have to see her in love with someone else. It’s easier to pretendwhen it’s not staring me in the face. And going home, all those feelings come rushing back, you know?”
The smallest hint of a smile appears on her lips “So you stay away.”
“So I stay away.”
The kettle beeps, and Simone busies herself preparing both mugs. I hang my head and rub at the back of my neck. Staying away isn’t working.
Nothing is. And I don’t know what to do.
When Christmas comes back around, I spend it with Mason, planning our trip to see the Northern Lights. He swears Alaska is fine, but if we’re doing this, we’re going to do it right. So I map out all the best places in Norway and plot out a five-day trip with everything from the aurora borealis to driving the Atlantic Road. I’m determined to make this the trip of a lifetime.
Jules spends the holidays with the Prescotts, skiing in Aspen. She promises we can watchAlienwhen she gets back, and I promise her that it’s fine, but I’m pretty sure she can tell I’m lying. I watch it with Mason instead, curled up on the couch under a thick blanket, with a plate of semi-burnt cookies that I didn’t take out of the oven in time.
When the chestburster makes its appearance, it just doesn’t feel the same.
Jules calls a few minutes before midnight on Christmas Eve. I sit by the tree in the living room and stare at the lights while I listen to her tell me about how she almost broke her leg going down one of the beginner slopes. Usually, hearing her voice carries a feeling of longing and an ache that settles deep in my chest. But tonight, it somehow doesn’t hurt as much. It makes me wonder if I’m finally starting to be okay with the fact that the type of love I feel for her isn’t the same as the love she feels for me.
Or maybe I’m just numb. I can’t seem to tell the difference anymore.
Chapter Twenty-One
Julia
The wind is biting. I pull my collar higher up on my neck and silently curse myself for not bringing my knit cap. Especially since the closest parking spot I could find is two streets away from the bistro where I was supposed to be five minutes ago. I pick up my pace, holding my phone between my shoulder and ear while I navigate the DC sidewalks.
“I have some news,” Chloe says, and I can practically hear the smile in her voice.
“You’re pregnant,” I guess. It’s obviously a joke, one that I know will ruffle her feathers and probably bite me in the ass, but it’s always worth it to hear how offended and disgusted she gets whenever I mention children.
“Ew, no. Kids are gross. Areyoupregnant? Is that the real reason you and Brian are getting married?”
And there’s the biting me in the ass I foresaw. “No, we’re getting married because we love each other.”
“Are you sure?”
The crosswalk sign switches, and I rush to make it across the street. “Am I sure I’m not pregnant, or am I sure I love Brian?”
“Both.”
“I’m sure,” I say, unamused at her comment and making a note to circle back around to that when I have a bit more time to chat. “So what’s your news?”
“I talked to that guy in Seattle, you know about the job that sounded amazing?” She’s been excited about this position for months,going on and on about how competitive it is but that she wanted to apply anyway because she justknewthe job was meant for her.
“Please tell me he hooked you up.”
“No, but he got me an interview with this amazing start-up in DC, and he said once I get a little experience under my belt, he’d love to rediscuss.”
“That’s great! I think?” To be honest, I don’t feel like I’ve been a great friend lately. I’ve been so wrapped up in grad school and my internship and the wedding that even when I try to keep up with Chloe and what’s going on with her, I still feel a bit lost.
And don’t even get me started on trying to keep up with Alex.
“Yes, it’s great,” she confirms and thankfully doesn’t hold my memory against me. “I’ll be closer to youandgetting experience. I should even be around for your wedding. As long as you don’t push it into the next century. So you know, win-win.”
