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I smile. “It is kind of awesome.”
Ethan licks his bowl to get the extra fudge on the end of the glass boat. He smiles at me and takes my hand in his. “Call him. I know he misses you.”
“How?”
“I asked him.”
I don’t know about them talking. I suck in a sharp bit of air.
“Fine. But after ice cream, go upstairs and pack. Your flight is early tomorrow.”
“I get to go to Comic-Con! Yeah. Thank you. Thank you, Mom. You’re the best.”
“This I know.” It’s the rest of it that I’m apparently in the dark about.
45
JILLIEN
This car won’t move fast enough. I need to When Harry Met Sally get to him. That whole thing about needing to start your life as soon as possible when you realize what you want. I want him. I want him in all of it. I’ll apologize for my asshole behavior. He won’t take my calls.
When I took Ethan to the airport for his flight out to California to meet his dad, I did a terribly impulsive thing. I parked and bought a last minute ticket to come here. I don’t know if he’s working from home today, but I hope so.
All I know is that I need to get over myself and apologize for how I handled things. We need to set healthy boundaries, then we’ll be fine. Yelling at Ethan. It’s a strange hot button for me, and I’ll explain that. We’ll talk and then I’ll be under him. I need to be under him. It’s the only place I truly feel like I’m the girl I’m supposed to be. He has this power over me. At first, I thought it was simply history, but now I think it’s the freedom I don’t get in the other parts of my life. I get to be Jilly when it’s just us, and I crave that so much. I’m a better Jillien when I’m his.
We pull up to his house on Pine Street. I get out and head to his door. I breathe and have faith that when I see his face, I’ll know exactly how to start. It’s been a month, and each minute has been a constant battle not to fall apart.
We dropped so far, so fast down the rabbit hole of love. But after a breath and a moment apart, I’m confident in how I feel about him, even if I didn’t express it well before he left. I hurt him more than Nina ever could.
I ring the bell. I smooth the ratty ends of my hair and hope my being here will compensate for my scattered appearance. I’m wearing yoga pants, not the good ones, and a shirt that reads My mom can beat up your mom. An old Mother’s Day gift. I didn’t intend on being here. I was pulled here. There’s no answer. It’s a big house. I’ll give him a second. I breathe in and out and wipe my palms down my thighs to dry them. The anticipation is killing me.
I reach my shaky hand toward the bell again. I wiggle my fingers to stop it, then slam the doorbell again. I use the giant knocker. I start pounding on the door. I won’t stop until he answers. I step back and look, and the shades are closed. It’s noon. He shouldn’t be cooped up like that. He should let the light in. Oh God, did I do that? Is he still depressed like me? I hope I didn’t make him a recluse. Bang and bang. Tears spring to my eyes as I call out to him.
“Fletch, please. Please let me in. I need to talk to you. Please.” I keep banging. I’m screaming. People are staring and commenting. I don’t care. Walk on by the crazy lady, please. My unhinged psycho rant is interrupted by the shot glass next-door neighbor.
“Hey! Stop. He’s not home.” I turn toward him. I’m paralyzed by this information. He looks at me. “Christ. You’re the hot chick from Christmas. The Chicago one.” I nod.
He’s not looking at me in the same predatory way he did. He’s looking at me like he’s going to call someone to lock me up.
“Hi. Hi. It’s lovely to see you again. I’m sorry to bother you. I know I look nuts. And not as hot as you remembered. I get that. Where’s Fletch?”
He looks at me suspiciously.
“I promise I’m not insane or a stalker. Although I get it now, that’s probably what an insane stalker would say.”
He nods and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I need to talk to him. And it’s hard to explain. I need to, um…”
“Go on, stalker, continue.” His eyes soften, and I see a kind look seeping through. I’ll play to that.
“I need to apologize, which is something I’m not great at doing. I always make sure it comes with a caveat explaining what they did wrong, too. But in this case, I think I’m 100 percent wrong. And you have no idea what it takes for me to say that. It’s literally ripping at my pride, but I’m babbling, and that’s all the truth. Where’s Liam?”
He steps down his stairs and comes over to Liam’s stoop. He smiles. “I feel like I should hug you before I tell you.” I’m not sure if he’s hitting on me or being kind, but my defenses are gone. He pulls me into his arms, and I fall apart. Embarrassingly so. Sweet God. His hands stay in a respectful place as I sob.
“You’re a hot mess.”
I back up from him. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I am a hot mess. Nothing makes sense. It’s like a piece of my brain isn’t functioning. I’m so embarrassed. Wow. I’m a lot right now.”