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Juliet doesn't look at me. I can't even see her face, but I can feel the tension rolling off her in waves. She's pissed. I know she's pissed.
"Jules-" But she doesn't look mad when she turns. My stomach plummets as I see the tears in her eyes, and I almost fault off the bed. "I'm sorry," I say automatically. "That was stupid. I'll call him back and tell him no."
"No, you should do it. It sounds like a really good idea. I'm not your girlfriend. I have no right to be upset." Her bottom lip trembles as she kneels to pick through her suitcase while I watch on, feeling helpless.
I don't know what to do. This whole damn situation is a minefield, and one wrong move will send my life up in smoke. I'm not ready to give her up,I don't want to give her up, but at the same time, I know this isn't forever. She needs to know it too, and if I refuse to do this, won't it mean I'm committed to her?
I rub my hands roughly over my face. "You said you didn't want anything serious." I remind her, feeling sicker with every word. "You know me, Juliet. You know I'm not the man you tie yourself down to."
A little sob bubbles from her lips as she dresses, and I want to throw myself out the damn window. I'm the biggest piece of garbage on the planet for hurting her, for hurting both of us. All I walk over there, tear those fucking clothes off her body, and spend the next hour apologizing with my head between her legs.
I open my mouth again to say words I haven't formulated yet, but Juliet beats me to it.
"I quit."
The whole world seems to fall away beneath me."What?"
"I quit." She repeats, her voice trembling, and we stare at each other from across the room.
"Juliet." I choke, watching as she moves around, gathering her things, erasing every trace of herself from my room. "Don't quit. Please. Let's talk about this-"
"Are you in love with me?" She asks tremulously, her voice shaking.
All the air goes out of me.Yes. Yes, I'm fucking in love with her. I don't say it, though. I don't say anything at all, and my non-answer draws a sad laugh from Juliet's lips as she shoves one last t-shirt into her rolling suitcase.
She goes to the door and looks back at me, her hand on the handle as she prepares to walk away forever. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for four years, and I don't want to be anymore. I want to be free."
Chapter Six
Juliet
Ineedtostartlooking for another job. I need to clean up my apartment. I need to get off the couch.
All pretty straightforward steps to take, or they would be if I could stand up without running for the bathroom and throwing up the remains of my lackluster breakfast.
I only quit my job a week ago, but what I'd thought was motion sickness from being on the plane too much still hasn't improved.
I'm not an idiot. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know exactly what's wrong with me, even if I can't bring myself to think about it yet. Not being able to stop throwing up after havingweeksof unprotected sex could be an ill-timed stomach bug, or it could be the cherry on top of four years of poor decision-making.
Fall in love with the most emotionally unavailable man on the planet? Check.
Proposition him for no-strings-attached sex? Check.
Fail to use birth control? Check.
Quit my job when said emotionally unavailable man proves himself to be every bit as unavailable as I always knew he was? Double check.
My stomach churning, I roll over and press my face into the throw pillow, willing myself not to panic. I'm a grown woman. I have an apartment, some money saved, and health insurance that Phillip still hasn't canceled. So if I am, though I'm probably not, it would be okay. I've always wanted to be a mom, and while the situation certainly isn't ideal….
My eyes burn, and a sob bubbles from my lips. How could I have let this happen? How couldPhilliphave let this happen? All you have to do is type his name into Google to find out his entire romantic history. The man apparently slept with every groupie or supermodel to cross his path foryears. Considering there isn't a pack of Little-Lowells running around, he must know how to use protection.
Whenever I thought about having kids or when I pictured myself finally doing it, I imagined myself older. I had a house and a retirement plan, anda husband. Someone to hold my hand during the ultrasounds and bring me deep-fried broccoli at midnight. Someone I could look over at when our baby did something awesome and know he felt that same awe and love that I did.
Who am I kidding? The imaginary husband was always Phillip. I don't want any of this without him, and now….
Despite how we left things, I know Phillip would never abandon me or our potential, probably not, but maybe baby. He's a good person with a good heart, but he doesn't make it easy on the people who care about him. He's constantlypushinglike he's trying to figure out just how much you can take before you snap and abandon him like he always knew you would. It isn't easy to love him, and it breaks my heart to think about our child feeling even the tiniest bit of the pain I have from his actions.
On the floor beside the couch, my phone dings with a new message, and I dive for it, my poor, battered heart leaping into my throat just like it has any time I've gotten a text over the last few days. It's never him though, and I'm left feeling twice as bad about myself because, despite everything, I still desperately want it to be.
