Page 42

She hugged me at the bottom of the stairs. I went up to the bed Julian had often shared with me, his masculine scent clinging to the air. Downstairs, I’d barely been able to keep my eyes open. But up here, I knew I wouldn’t sleep. The memories were too close.

So I stared at the ceiling for six hours, wondering if Julian was struggling too. Suppose being in his bed made him think of me. How much time he needed to figure out if he still wanted to be with me.

I didn’t have any answers when dawn broke.

There wasn’t any noise coming from the guest room, so I hoped that meant Megan had been able to sleep. I felt so bad that I’d interrupted her night, but I was also grateful to have a friend like her.

Quietly slipping downstairs, I decided this morning called for one of my famous waffle boards. I had the fresh berries, homemade warm chocolate sauce, freshly whipped cream, and cookie butter spread all ready when Megan woke up. By the time she joined me in the kitchen, two waffles were done, and coffee was brewed.

“Time to eat our feelings.”

It worked to distract me for a little while, as I felt like I was hanging in limbo, waiting to see what Julian decided. And what it would take for me to feel safe with him again.

19

JULIAN

Ellie was still ignoring my calls and texts the following morning. I’d barely slept and wasn’t hungry, so I tried to distract myself by clearing out my emails. I didn’t make much headway, but at least it was some kind of progress.

At ten o’clock, I tried calling my daughter again. She didn’t answer.

Neither did Harry when I tried his number thirty minutes later.

Or Courtney, when I grew increasingly frustrated at eleven.

I was sent directly to voicemail each time, and my texts only showed as delivered, not read.

The contrast with how Celia handled my request for her to let me know she got home safely last night was glaring. After I asked her for time to figure my shit out, she owed me nothing. But that didn’t stop her from texting me.

Because she was the kindest person mixed up in all this.

And it was starting to feel like I was making her pay for other people’s mistakes.

At eleven thirty, I realized it could easily be months before Ellie would be willing to sit down and talk with me.

By noon, I was pulling into Celia’s driveway.

Using the key she’d given me didn’t feel right under the circumstances, so I rang the bell. Megan answered the door, and she glared at me. “If you’re not here to confess your unconditional love and fix this, you can turn your butt around and go home until you’ve managed to pull your head out of it.”

“I—”

Whatever I’d been about to promise dried up when I heard Celia call, “Was that the door? Who is it?”

I nodded, and Megan reluctantly replied, “It’s Julian.”

“I guess we figured out a situation where you’d use his real name.”

Celia’s footsteps were slow as she walked through her living room. She looked like she had slept even less than I had last night. Her face was scrubbed clean, and purple smudges were under her red-rimmed eyes. Her skin was pale, and her dark hair was piled atop her head. She wore yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, barefoot. And she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she whispered in a raspy voice.

“I can’t with you two,” Megan muttered before pulling me inside the townhouse.

My gaze was locked on Celia’s face. “Are you okay with me being here?”

“I’m not okay with anything right now, but you not being here hasn’t helped that at all yet.”