“Get ready for me to call you a lot,” Jules said, leaning over to give her a quick kiss.
“I’m ready,” Sophie told her. “Are you ready to tell your family?”
Something cold and unwelcome washed through Jules’s stomach. “God, Sophie, I’m terrified.”
“It’s okay,” Sophie told her, giving her arm a squeeze. “Just go with what feels right.”
“Even if that means not telling them yet?” Jules asked, darting a glance at her.
Sophie nodded. “Even if.”
“I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her eyes again filling with tears.
Sophie stopped walking, turning to face Jules on the sidewalk. “Jules, you have to do this foryou. Not for me.”
“But what about your girlfriend, the one who dumped you because she decided not to come out?”
Sophie’s gaze dropped to the sidewalk. “I won’t deny that’s an issue for me. She hurt me, badly. And I don’t want to put myself in that position again. But it’s my issue, and you shouldn’t let it pressure you into coming out before you’re ready.”
“I’m sorry.” Jules squeezed her eyes shut, leaning forward until her forehead rested against Sophie’s. “I hate that I’m struggling with this. I really do.”
“You can’t help how you feel,” Sophie whispered. “And neither can I. You do what you have to do, and we’ll deal with the rest after we get back from the holidays.”
“Okay.” They started walking again.
It was cold tonight, cold enough to chill the alcohol in her veins, sobering her up much more quickly than she’d anticipated, or maybe that was sadness that she was about to say goodbye to Sophie for the next week.
All too soon, they arrived at Sophie’s building.
“I’m sure I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Sophie said. “We’ll text. Or call. Or whatever.”
“Yes.”
Sophie wrapped her arms tightly around Jules. “Good luck with everything, and Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Bye, Jules.” Sophie brought their lips together for one last kiss.
“Bye.” She buried her face on Sophie’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair, absorbing the feel of her arms around her waist. She soaked it all in, and then she pulled free, waving over her shoulder as she walked away.
14
Sophie settled on the couch with a satisfied sigh, beer in hand asIt’s a Wonderful Lifeplayed on the TV. To her left, the tree glowed with multicolored lights and a lifetime of familiar ornaments, clay pressed stars she and Tanner had made as kids, paper cutouts adorned with sequins and glitter, and glass balls of all sizes and colors.
Home. She’d been back for twenty-four hours, in the house where she’d grown up, sleeping in her old bedroom. Right now, she was curled in her favorite spot on the couch while she waited for Tanner and his wife to arrive for family game night. Some things never changed. But others did. Her dad, who for decades had sat across from her with the Sunday paper spread across his knees, was now swiping through the news on his tablet, glasses perched on his nose.
“Need any help?” Sophie called to her mom, who was puttering around in the kitchen.
“Nope,” her mom answered. “Casserole’s already in the oven. I’m just tossing together a quick salad to go with it.”
“If we’re having salad, we also need dessert,” Sophie reminded her. It was a Rindell family rule, one that her friends had been insanely jealous of when she was still in school.
“Then you’d better get in here and make something,” her mom said.
“Coming.” Sophie slid off the couch and walked to the kitchen, still carrying her beer. “What have I got to work with?”
“I think there’s a box of brownie mix in the pantry somewhere,” her mom said.
