“So…” Julia leans in, her voice casual but her eyes all mischief. “Where’s Brandon?”
I sigh and take a long sip of water. Here we go.
“We broke up,” I say, keeping my tone light. “It was mutual. We just… wanted different things.”
Everyone gets quiet for half a second before Mom does the very Mom thing and reaches across the table to pat my hand.
“His loss,” she says with a firm nod. “Now you can focus on your dreams.”
“Exactly,” I say, grateful for the change in direction. “I want to focus on growing my platform, launching my website… eventually creating my own skincare line. I’ve been working on formulas for a while, and now I finally have the time to go all in.”
Josy’s eyes light up. “You know the guest house beside our place has been empty since Violet and Adrian moved out. Why don’t you stay there? It’s got its own entrance, and you’d have some space. Plus, we’d be close if you need anything.”
“Yes, please,” I say without hesitation, shooting a look at Mom, who’s probably already planning to redecorate my childhood bedroom. “I love you, but you’re a little much sometimes.”
She gasps, hand to her chest like I wounded her. “Me? I’m the perfect amount of much.”
Everyone laughs, even Dad.
After dinner, the house starts to settle into that familiar post-meal lull. The kids are in the living room with Dad, completely absorbed in some noisy cartoon. Josy and Noah are cleaning up Everly while Mom insists on fixing everyone another plate “just in case they’re still hungry.” I escape into the kitchen with Julia, both of us automatically falling into our old rhythm—her rinsing, me drying.
We don’t talk at first. The clink of plates and the low hum of the dishwasher fill the silence. But eventually Juliaglances over her shoulder at me with that big-sister expression I know too well.
“Are you really okay?” she asks.
I pause with a dish towel in hand, staring at the wet plate in front of me.
“I mean…” she presses, “you were supposed to move here with Brandon. Why didn’t you call me when all this happened? Or better yet, when was this break-up?”
I sigh. Loudly.
Julia raises an eyebrow, waiting.
“It happened right before I left two days ago,” I finally say, placing the plate on the drying rack. “He told me he wasn’t coming with me. Said he thought I’d change my mind about moving. That I’d stay in Florida and, I don’t know, play house while he worked.”
Julia blinks. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah. Apparently, he pictured me in a cute apron, filming skincare videos from his kitchen, waiting for him to come home so I could rub his shoulders and hand him a beer.” I shake my head. “I realized he didn’t really see me. Not the real me.”
Julia lets out a soft laugh, but it’s full of disbelief. “Seriously? What a jackass.”
I huff out a dry laugh of my own. “Yep. He wanted a trophy wife. I’m not that girl.”
Then I glance at her. “No offense.”
Julia smirks as she grabs another plate. “None taken. I always wanted this, Dane, the house, the kids, the whole nine yards. I never needed anything else.”
“I know. And you’re good at it,” I say, meaning every word. “You’re an amazing mom. But I’ve worked too hard to become someone’s accessory. I want to build something. Myown business, my brand… something that’s mine. And yeah, maybe someday the right guy will come along, and I’ll get all the other stuff too. But I’m not going to shrink myself to fit into someone else’s story.”
Julia hands me a rinsed fork, and for a moment, she just looks at me. “Good. Because I’d have dragged your ass out of Florida myself if you did.”
I laugh, and just like that, the heaviness I’ve been carrying in my chest feels lighter.
“Thanks, Jules.”
She smiles. “Thank the Lord that you are not sleeping in our old room tonight.”
I shoot her a look. “You mean the shrine to the Jonas Brothers?”
