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“How is your morning sickness?” Becca asks.

“Horrible,” Jules answers, her nose scrunching to emphasize her displeasure.

I step a little closer to her, wanting to offer support, but she immediately shifts to get further away as if she expected my reaction.

I swallow down my annoyance, but my hands still clench open and closed. Jason’s eyes dart down to them, making my heart race, thinking he’s figured it all out. I can’t tell if I’m excited for the truth to finally come out or upset that this may ruin what I’ve been trying to build with Jules.

But then my brother’s face changes to a look of what I can only read as disappointment.

He’s not a super sleuth figuring out that I’m the baby’s real father. He pities me. He thinks I’m angry and jealous that Brooks has made a child with the woman I’ve cared so deeply for, for so long.

“There’s a booth down that way that’s selling all sorts of candles,” Becca offers. “I saw some ginger-scented ones, but I don’t know how well they would work.”

“I’ll check them out,” Jules says. “It was good to see the two of you.”

We enter into another round of hugs before we split.

“This has got to suck,” Jason whispers in my ear before pulling away.

I give him a tight smile, but I can’t say anything.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Jules huffs after they walk away. “I’m ready to go home.”

I don’t reach out to her again as we walk back to my truck before finishing our stroll through the farmers’ market.

I do still open the passenger door for her, because it’s something I would still do as a friend even if I knew eyes were on me.

“So, lunch?”

“Just take me home,” she whispers, her eyes locked out the window.

She doesn’t speak or look at me the entire drive back to her house, and it leaves me feeling like we’ve jumped back a half a million steps when just an hour before, I felt like we had taken a giant leap forward with her tucked into my side.

I honestly don’t know how much more of the back-and-forth my heart can take.

Chapter 22

Jules

I tried to explain my reaction to seeing Becca and Jason at the farmers’ market last week when we got back to my house, but Kit just dropped me off with a quick nod. He didn’t even try to placate me by telling me it was okay. I felt like crap the entire time I stood there talking to them, guilty for changing the subject more than once from the baby.

I figured he’d be back. He was rightfully upset, but we’d spent the previous two weeks together. He was here every single evening, bringing delicious food, sitting on my couch, and carrying me to bed when I zonked out on the couch. I grew accustomed to him being here, finding myself desperate for his attention after going the entire day without seeing him.

Then he just wasn’t around. I haven’t seen him since he dropped me off on Saturday. He’s always sent the texts checking up on me in the morning, and that hasn’t changed, but instead of seeing him, I get those same generic texts in the evening. I respond to the morning ones, but after he sent the evening one on Monday without showing up, I decided I was pissed at him.

I know I don’t have any right to be mad that he’s mad, but my feelings are my own, and I’m allowed them even if I don’t deserve them.

Me: We should go shopping.

Beth: Who are you and what happened to my best friend?

I laugh. Beth sees right through me. I’ve never really liked shopping. It’s why I hadn’t been to the farmers’ market in so long. I’ve always been frugal with my money. That happens after losing a parent who made no plans in case something tragic happened. I didn’t want anyone else to be left holding the bill if I died. On that same hand, I hate walking through any place that sells things and not purchase something. Meaning, when I go shopping, I tend to overspend on things I don’t need just to save me a little embarrassment.

Me: I’m bored. Come keep me company.

Beth: I wish! I’m with Spencer in Chicago. He has that conference next week.

Emotion clogs my throat. I’m not mad that my best friend is out of town. What hurts is that we’ve always talked about her trips. I knew when she was going to be gone. I sat on her bed helping her plan her wardrobe, one that leaned heavily on seducing Spencer or making him insanely jealous, depending on which juncture they were at in their relationship.

She hadn’t even mentioned this trip before now, which I guess would be difficult to do since we haven’t spoken since her text canceling on helping me with my mom’s things three weeks ago.


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