After ordering our food, we people-watch until our meal arrives. Right before we start eating, I pull out my phone to text my mom.
“Sorry, just need to check on Cameron,” I say to Jules.
She smiles at the mention of my son’s name. “You’re a good dad. Especially without ever having a role model of your own.”
“I’m probably a better dadbecauseof it. It’s important for me to have a good relationship with Cameron. To make sure I don’t repeat history. I want to make sure he knows he’s loved, even if his parents aren’t together anymore.”
Jules leans forward, resting her chin on her hands and staring across the table at me in the candlelight. “Cameron seems like a great kid. Super smart. Funny. Well-adjusted, even in a new town. And cute as hell.”
“Thank you.” I doubt that Jules realizes how much her compliment means to me. I’m constantly second-guessing myself, worried about whether I’m doing a good job with my son. It keeps me up at night.
“Was he thrilled to find out he had a new cousin his age?” Jules asks.
I laugh. “Oh, you have no idea. You’d think the boy had won the lottery when he found out about Jagger.”
Easton and Jagger’s mother had supposedly hooked up back in high school, right before our family moved away from Fairy Bush. Imagine our shock when we returned last summer and learned of Jagger’s existence.
Finding out that I have a nephew was the best kind of surprise, and although the truth about Jagger’s paternity ended up being a lot more complicated than it initially seemed, we can’t imagine our family without the little boy now.
Jules speaks fondly about Jagger as we eat. I always forget that my “new” nephew practically grew up with Jules, since she’s Alba’s best friend. She’s like an aunt to Jagger, and he truly seems to adore her. They say that kids are great judges of character. I guess that means Jules might not be such a bad person at the end of the day.
“So…elephant in the room…,” she says later as we’re browsing through the dessert menu. “I hate to ask, but I guess I should probably know a little about your ex. Any wild stories there? Anything I should watch out for? Like an angry woman slashing my moped tires while I’m sleeping?”
My walls instantly come up, and annoyance seeps in.“No, not at all.”
Jules raises an eyebrow. “Come on. No red flags I should know about?”
“No,” I repeat firmly.
I’m not stupid. I know that Jules probably needs to know the basics of my former relationship if we’re supposedly getting married. Still, it doesn’t feel right gossiping about my son’s mother.
“Cynthia is a good person,” I say. “We just weren’t right for each other. But we were young and she helped me build myself into the man I am today. That’s all there is to it.”
Jules is quiet while she digests the tiny bit of information I just revealed to her. I didn’t mean to snap, but it just spilled out in my attempt to defend Cynthia.
“Did you love her?” my soon-to-be wife dares to ask me.
Whatever door that was open on this conversation suddenly slams closed when Jules pushes too far. I’m not in the mood for a painful reminder of my failed marriage.
“That’s personal,” I answer through clenched teeth.
“Well, wearegetting married, so that’s pretty personal.” She smiles awkwardly. “What’s yours is mine, no?”
I shake my head, already rising out of my seat, the legs of my chair grating loudly across the floor. “It’s afakemarriage, Jules. Afakemarriage,” I remind her before tossing down a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. “I’ll be waiting in the car,” I say as I’m stomping out of the restaurant, not giving a fuck that people are watching.
But by the time I get to the sidewalk, I realize what an ass I’m being. I overreacted, and I know it. I also know that I’m about to suffer my sassy fiancée’s wrath.
Great.
She’s probably not very happy about how I treated her, which is fair. But we have a business deal to close, so she’ll just have to get over it.
Parked across the street from the restaurant, I sit there behind the wheel, hyping myself up for the showdown I know is headed my way. Long moments tick by, and there’s no sign of Jules. I wait and wait and wait, debating what I should do.
Great. Looks like I’m going to have to go back into that restaurant, and deal with this situation in front of all those people. And I just know that Jules will make a scene. I don’t really have a choice, though, do I?
Right as my hand is reaching for the door handle, Jules pops out of the restaurant, hips swinging in that hot little red dress. I breathe a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.
But right then, a car pulls up to the curb in front of the restaurant.
