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Not happening.
I drag myself up to go to the bathroom and take a shower. I have this new, overwhelming urge to protect Julian. He's a good man, an honourable man who tried his best to make a bad situation right, but in the end, he just couldn't.
I’m not going to let him blame himself for one more day. I know why he’s scared of relationships and of having someone love him. Of course he’d never want to be responsible for anyone else’s happiness ever again. I wouldn’t either, if I were him.
The hot water runs down over my face, letting me get lost in my thoughts.
I’ll only let you down. His words come back to me. He’s terrified of letting anyone down again—of letting anyone get close.
That’s too bad, Julian, because I’m already close to both you and the children, and I’m not going to let you push me away out of fear.
As I stand in the shower, I feel my reservations about Julian Masters disappear down the drain along with the hot water.
I want him as a boss, as a lover… as my boyfriend.
I want the full package, kids and all.
Willow and I are sitting at the kitchen counter eating breakfast.
"I'm looking forward to our girlie day, Will." I smile against my coffee cup. I've coerced Julian into letting Willow have the day off school for some appointments. He doesn't need to know it's for our nails. We need some time together, and I want to try and get her to talk to me.
“What exactly do you do on a girlie day?” she asks.
"Well, we'll get our nails done, and then we might get our hair cut. Afterwards, we could go somewhere nice for lunch."
She gives me a lopsided smile.
“We might even go and buy you some new clothes.” I widen my eyes, trying to make her as excited as I am. “Really? Like what?”
I shrug. “Whatever you want.”
She finally begins to smile.
“And Emerson has the day off, too. I thought we might go and have a coffee with her this afternoon.”
“You want me to meet your friend?” she asks, surprised.
“Uh huh.” I smile. “You’re my friend and she’s my friend, so it’s a lot easier if my two friends become good friends, too.”
“Oh no, Tillie.” we hear Sammy cry from upstairs.
Willow’s eyes meet mine. “What is that naughty puppy up to now?” I ask.
“Oh, man, she’s exhausting.” Will sighs, and we make our way upstairs to see what the commotion is about.
Woof, woof.
Tilly leans back on her back legs, then jumps up and attacks Sammy. "Tillie" he calls.
Our eyes widen as we assess the damage.
Tillie has been in Willow's makeup case and chewed everything inside of it. There are blush and lipstick all over the upstairs carpet, as well as down the stairs. She now has a powder sponge in her mouth and is running away from Sammy, enjoying the chase, thinking that this is the most fun ever.
“Oh no, naughty,” I whisper.
She barks and then runs. We take chase, running after her as she sprints down the stairs.
“Oh my God, somebody get her,” Willow cries.
