I shrug my acceptance, and no more than five minutes later, we’re cruising down the road in an incredibly uncomfortable silence.
It isn’t that Julia and I aren’t close; she’s family to me in the same way that Tripp is. The amount of time we spend together without him joining us, however, is practically nonexistent. A few hours total, in the years we’ve known each other, and that’s only if I round up.
We’re just over halfway to my house when her grip tightens on the steering wheel and she shakes her head, like she can’t escape a thought that’s continuously bothering her.
“Are you guys okay?” I finally brave asking. “The vibe was weird tonight.”
“What, he doesn’t talk to you?”
“Not about this, apparently,” I shrug.
She deflates again. I’m not sure if I just gave her the wrong answer or the one that she was expecting to hear.
“Tripp’s been sleeping on the couch. I was using you to try to force his hand.” A wan laugh works its way out of her, her eyes flicking in my direction for just a beat before returning to the road ahead of us. “You really messed me up in there.”
“I knew things were rough; I didn’t know they were ‘sleeping on the couch’ rough,” I tell her.
“I didn’t either, until it started.”
Her eyes move back to me, just for a second, gauging if I’m the right person to talk to about this. Maybe gauging if I’m interested in their lives at all. I pivot my body just a few degrees to show her that I’m listening, even if there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to.
This isn’t a road I’d like to travel down again, but she’s asking me to listen to her. I can do that for a minute.
“We just can’t catch a break,” she says with a sigh. “I’m afraid that’s gonna breakus.”
“Hey,” I say, “marriage is hard; that’s part of why I haven’t done it. That kid is absolutely crazy about you.”
A sad, empty smile works itself across her lips as she pulls onto my driveway, silently putting the car into park.
“He used to be,” she finally tells me. Koda whines from the back seat, forcing Jules to clear her throat and turn to face him. While she talks to him, she scratches at his ear and puts on a high-pitched baby-talk voice. “You be a good boy and go potty and go to bed so you can come play again.”
“He’s not a child,” I laugh.
“No, but he’s still a baby,” she argues.
I shake my head as I climb out of the car, and as Koda and I unload, I offer Jules a quick thank you before walking the dog back into my house.
One of my roommates is slumped backward on the couch, stuffing his face with a poorly-held pair of chopsticks while he eats directly from a take out container, and the other is likely already in bed. I pass the couch with a quick hello and head to my bedroom.
Somehow, I managed to secure the largest room in the house – which isn’t saying much. There are three of us sharing eleven hundred square feet and trying to stay out of each others’ ways. I’ve lived with these guys for a little while now, and I don’t know hardly anything about either one of them.
I think one of them has a brother and the other has an ex-wife somewhere in North Carolina, but I’m not sure which is which, so I never ask. Outside of accepting their rent payments and occasionally going in on a delivery order together, we don’t talk much, and I prefer it that way.
Roommates and I have historically not been a great mix.
Chapter 5
JULIA
“Welcome to my funeral,” Aislin announces as she opens the front door of her house with a flourish.
Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, she throws her head backward with an anguished sigh.
The dramatics are fitting for the property; it’s a two-story mission-style home with an arch at the entryway and beautiful, lush plants lining the entirety of the walkway. Every time I come here, it feels like a red carpet has been rolled out and I’m walking into a resort, not someone’s house.
Aislin’s husband works in real estate, and he managed to snag this property before it had the chance to hit market. I can’t blame him; I would have, too.
“You look beautiful for a dead woman,” I giggle, wrapping my arms around my best friend’s shoulders with a squeeze.
