That made her laugh out loud in spite of everything. “You’re definitely not bad.”
“You probably think Clifford’s hotter, but I’m cutting yousome slack for being delusional at the moment.” He came up with a shirt and a skirt from two different outfits and held them up before tossing them over to her as if he’d decided they’d do. “Here you are.”
“Those don’t even go together,” she informed him.
“Now you’re questioning my fashion sense?”
“I’ll pick my own clothes, thank you—if you’ll just step out of the room.” She wasn’t wearing anything other than a tank top and a pair of panties, so she couldn’t get out of bed until he left.
“I’m not that stupid,” he said. “Once I’m gone, you’ll just lock the door.”
She laughed again, and the sound of it reminded her of who she normally was. This was what friends were for, she reminded herself. They picked you up when you were flat on your ass and compelled you to journey on. Her problem was that she’d let her friends go because of Cliff, had let him dictate who they saw and what they did. She’d felt she had to do that to keep him happy.
Little good it had done her...
“Then turn your back,” she said.
He instantly obliged, and she dragged herself out of bed and over to her suitcase. “Where’s your wife, by the way?” she asked. “Won’t she mind you taking me on this little escapade?”
“I don’t have a wife.”
She’d just pulled the rest of her clothes out of her suitcase and hadn’t found anything that wasn’t too wrinkled, so she was going through what he’d already tossed aside. “Sloane told me you were engaged.”
“I was.”
“What happened?”
He kept his back to her. “My fiancée came to her senses, I guess.”
“She broke up with you?”
“Went back to her douchebag ex, who, it turned out, had been calling her. So don’t tellmeI don’t know how bad you’re feeling.”
“That would hurt,” she acknowledged. “But as long we’re comparing war wounds,Iwas actually married and thought we were ready to start a family—and all of America was paying attention to our relationship and is now witnessing my fall from grace.”
“You’ve got a backbone. You’ll get through it.”
Would she? That remained to be seen. “How long ago did your fiancée leave you?” she asked as she pulled out a clean pair of panties.
“It’s been about fourteen months, but it was only nine weeks before the wedding. We were just about to send out the invitations when she realized she’d rather be with him.”
“That sucks. So... are they married now?”
“No. Didn’t work out between themagain. I, of course, wasn’t surprised—but neither was I interested in taking her back.”
“You were over it?”
“I was more than over it. I wasgratefulshe’d left me—feel like I dodged a bullet. Distance gave me a certain perspective I’d lacked before.”
After nearly drowning in feelings of inadequacy and allowing her own internal critic to beat her up over and over again by suggesting everything she should’ve done differently so she wouldn’t have been tossed out by the one person she loved more than any other, it felt like Julian was throwing her a life preserver. She hated that he was seeing her at her most vulnerable, especially because it was the first time they’d been together in over a decade. But he wouldn’t let her send him away, and his tough-love approach—although, admittedly, a little callous—was actually helping. He was essentially saying, “Shit happens toeverybody—get over it.” And he was right. What other choice did she have?
“You’re lucky,” she agreed.
“So are you. You just don’t know it yet.”
She was far from feeling the gratitude he felt, but she certainly hoped he was right.
“What are you doing in town, anyway?” she asked as she finally settled on a casual black spaghetti-strap dress. She’d always loved yoga, had stayed in shape, so at least she wouldn’t look too bad if she could fix her face and hair.
