“There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious.”
“True enough,” she says, picking up another wrap. “And anyways, all that matters is that we’re here now, and we’re doing pretty well for ourselves.”
“Exactly. Not many people are lucky enough to be hosting and/or participating in spontaneous cook-offs in their gorgeous penthouse.”
“Precisely. And you know, we’re very alike, you and me. Maybe someday you’ll be standing in your own fancy apartment, passing the time withyourfavorite assistant.”
I scoff and opt to pick up another wrap myself. “I doubt that will ever happen.”
“Would that be the worst thing in the world?” Juliette asks. “Ending up like me?”
“Of course not. I would love to end up like you.”
“Except for the lonely bit, right?”
“Are you lonely?” I ask hesitantly.
She looks at me, seeming uncharacteristically complacent. “Sometimes I’m so lonely, I think I might collapse from the weight of it.” Her words hit with ruthless strength, and I so desperately want to find the perfect response to make her feel better.
Nothing comes, and Juliette reaches over to me, placing her hand on mine like she knows my intentions even if I can’t voice them. She gives the tops of my fingers a comforting squeeze before pulling her hand back and going on.
“But in life, in this industry, you have to be willing to pay a certain price to seize the things you want. And a word of advice. You should start thinking about that concept long and hard right now. Because only you will know if it’s worth it or not.”
“Was it worth it for you?” I ask.
“I like to think so.”
I slowly nod my head, deciding to ask another question. “Do you ever wish that you had kids?”
Juliette pauses, truly thinking about it before saying, “Not really. I always figured that if I ever wanted a baby, I would do it myself, but I also wanted to wait until I had a burning desire for it. Ultimately, that desire never came.”
“I get that,” I say, feeling very much on the same page. And her sudden openness emboldens me to press her even further. “Do you think you’d be less lonely if you reconnected with Isabelle?”
If I offended her with my question, she doesn’t show it. She only fidgets with the corner of the plate before eventually speaking. “That’s a complicated question. Honestly, I could have and would have ended up with a completely different life if she didn’t do what she did.”
“What did she do?” I ask quietly.
Juliette looks up at me, calm and collected as anything. “She betrayed me.”
I suck in a quiet breath, not quite sure what to ask or offer after that, and Juliette shakes her head, rubbing her temples and clenching her eyes closed.
“Something about Isabelle always gets to me in a way that nothing else does. Being here and being around her again, I can’t shake the headaches. It’s like my brain is being squeezed too tight.” She opens her eyes and inhales deep, seeming to hope that the air filling her lungs will ease her troubled mind. “It was like this the last time when everything fell apart between us. It wrecked me so completely that I made myself physically sick over it.” She takes another breath and leans down against the counter, once again rubbing the sides of her head.
I inch myself closer, desperate to help find the solution that she so clearly needs. “But if that’s the case, then shouldn’t you both try to fix things? If not for each other, then at least for yourselves? It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Her gaze rises to mine at that, and for a second, I think she’s about to agree. Her eyes soften a bit, like she truly wants to tell me her story—like she’s finally ready to be free of it. But then they refocus on the food, and she throws on a smile, much the same way she does when she’s regaining her composure as a guest lecturer.
“Don’t worry about me, kid. I made it this far on my own. No use rocking the boat now.”
I’m all primed to try again, but Juliette takes the last wrap and promptly walks back into the living room. She returns to her spot on the couch and turns the TV back on, resuming the marathon I initially interrupted.
I follow her in, knowing that the moment is long gone as I stand dejectedly behind the couch. “I better go get Ollie,” I eventually tell her.
“Sounds good,” she says, adjusting the volume to a lower level. “Make sure to say hi to Phillip for me.”
“I will.”
She twists around with a coy smile. “And feel free to do other things to Phillip as well.”
