She looks down at my now slumped body, and not because I’m naked, but because she can see the worry in my eyes.
“I’m not having some sort of breakdown,” I tell her. “I’m just extremely stressed and overtired. Sorry.”
She comes in and shuts the door before sitting next to me, wrapping her arms around me.
Yes, I’m still naked, but we’re sisters. Nothing fazes us.
“Is this about Harrison?” she asks quietly.
“Yes, but also I’m nervous about the bakery. We’ve been lucky with low rent, and I’m only realizing that now that I’m seeing market prices for other spaces.” I take a deep breath, then continue. “What if we can’t find anywhere in the neighborhood and lose our loyal customers? I truly don’t think we’d make it in this economy.” She holds me tighter and says nothing because she knows it’s true.
After a while of silence, she breaks it. “And Harrison?” I shrug. She won’t understand. “You’re in your twenties, Jules. You’re finally able to live and let loose. Don’t sacrifice your life again.”
She still doesn’t get it.
Becks has always supported me and cheered on my successful dancing career, but it doesn’t mean she understood it. Though she is no stranger to hard work, she never got the strictness that went along with my career.
“I didn’t sacrifice my life. I loved it. I could have been partying and living it up. ButIchose not to do what everyone else was doing. That would have never got me to my end goal.” It’s whatIwanted. “My dedication might have seemed like a burden to most people our age, but to me, discipline and dedication would reward me in the end. Never did I think it would end so early.”
She turns toward me. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I just…” She trails off, and I can see her contemplating her next words.
“You just what?”
Her eyes connect with mine. “You’re going to be mad at what I say next.”
I roll my eyes. “Great,” I mutter.
“I’m worried that now you don’t have dance, you’re romanticizing your life with him.”
“What? I wouldn’t do that,” I say, and even to my own ear, I sound like a liar.
She stands. “I need to finish packing, but I love you. Just think about it. Your whole life has been romanticized. You’re a fucking ballerina, for god’s sake.” She smirks and shakes her head. “And you’re the girl who wants what your parents had. You’re ready to get married at twenty-four and have kids. But remember, sometimes, men mean what they say, and a future might not be on the table. It’s not always meant to be.”
My alarm goes off, meaning I should be getting dressed, which clearly isn’t happening.
I can’t answer her right now. I’m afraid what she says holds some truth. “I should call Harrison to tell him I’m running behind.”
“Okay.” She kisses my forehead. “Come out soon. The girls and I need to leave shortly. And put some clothes on, for fuck’s sake.” She laughs and leaves me.
“Hi, are you okay?” Harrison picks up right away.
I cringe—shoot. “Ah, aren’t you in an important meeting? I was going to leave a voicemail.”
“You’re important, Juliette. What’s wrong?”
That means he is, and I’m interrupting. “I’m running late. Is that going to be okay?”
“Hey, take over,” he says to someone. I hear him walking, and I know he’s left the meeting.
Shit.
“Late because it’s you, or late because I hear something else in your voice.”
“Why does everyone say I’m late? I was on time yesterday.”
He chuckles. “Five minutes late is not on time, Jules. Anyway, talk to me, baby. What’s going on?”
I place the phone on speaker, then stand up and put on the sweats Becks brought in for me.
