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The night I had gone to pick it up.
Oddly, I wanted the surprise of it.
A luxury that was really meant for Gary, not me.
But I hadn’t wanted to spoil it.
And here it was.
Spoiled by tears.
Before I could even see it in all its glory.
All I could see from her kneeled position was that the length skimmed the floor, tight up through the hip and stomach, floating outward near the thighs, and rouching around the bodice.
She’d gone understated with the jewelry, just wearing the tiny golden cross her grandmother had given her on her communion, as she almost always wore, and simple pearl studs clasped to her ears.
Her gorgeous hair was pulled back, as it pretty much always was. At work, usually a more severe look. Now, it was parted off-center, drawn to one side, and pulled into a knot right below and behind her ear.
Beautiful.
It would have been beautiful.
Were her eyes not completely freaking panic-stricken.
Not sad.
Not devastated as you would think if her groom ran off on her wedding day, not heart-broken as the tears would suggest.
Just freaked.
Worried.
Unsure.
I’d known this woman for years.
I had never seen her look unsure of herself before.
To see it now, that was a goddamned sin.
Especially on her wedding day, in her wedding dress, kneeling in her closet when she should have been sealing the deal with a kiss.
Her lips, lightly tinted with a pale rose lipstick, fell open, at a loss for what to say as she stared at me.
It took a long moment before words came out of her.
Words I never could have anticipated when it looked like her world was falling apart by the moment.
“You cut your hair.”
It almost sounded like an accusation.
“Thought it was time for something new,” I told her, shrugging it off.
Her brows drew down, analyzing this, and clearly deciding it made no sense whatsoever.
“You’re supposed to be across town right now,” I reminded her as though she could possibly forget such a thing.
“My family…” The words broke out of her, a shattered sound.
“Miller let them know that they need to hang tight until I got word back to them.”
“You came,” she mumbled, gaze suddenly dropping to her own lap.
“Of course I came. I’ll always come if you need me to.”
And she clearly needed me to.
Even if she wouldn’t ask for my help.
Even if her pride would never allow for it.
“Jules…” I called when her gaze stayed fixed downward.
Her head shook, refusing eye-contact.
“Hey,” I tried again, voice going softer as my hand reached out, gently snagging her chin, pulling her face up, waiting for a long moment before her lashes would flutter back upward, giving me a flash of that brilliant light blue that had caught me so off-guard the first time I saw her.
Before I saw the hair.
Before I saw the freckles.
Before I even saw her body.
It was those eyes.
Bright, smart, confident.
But right now, all I saw there was defeat.
Unable to stop it, my thumb moved out, stroking up her jaw a bit before I forced my hand to drop, reminding myself that this was hardly the time for that, that I was not her comfort person, no matter how many times I had attempted to establish myself as such.
“What’s going on, Jules?”
–
Flashback – 1 month before –
The office was quiet.
It always was at night.
That was when Jules secretly enjoyed it the most.
She often thrived on the chaos. She was in her zone when the phones were ringing off the hook, when the intercom was barking orders at her, when files were being thrown on her desk, when she needed to make five coffees while trying to deal with hysterical new clients.
But there was something nice about when everyone filed out, when she was locked into the office by herself, cleaning up the waiting area, re-stocking the coffee station, reorganizing her desk, just getting things ready for the next day.
It was a habit she learned from her mom who learned it from her grandmother.
They never went to bed at night without spending twenty minutes cleaning up the counters and tables, loading up the dishwasher, running a quick vacuum if it was needed.
There was nothing like waking up to a neat environment, it made you feel like you were ahead of the day before it even began.
It was a habit she brought into the office.
Which was why she stayed back later than anyone else, even if the bulk of her work was done. It gave her the opportunity to hit the ground running in the morning when things were often chaotic while the men and Miller filed in, dealing with new or existing clients.
Music hummed to her through the speakers, a small luxury she only allowed late at night when she was alone. She always played music at her desk quietly, just loudly enough that it allowed her to keep her sanity when things got crazy.
