Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JULIETTE
I feel like pulling my hair out. Ever since Dean left yesterday, I’ve been going insane. Seeing him—being close to him, fighting with him—it fucked with my head. I’ve tried really, really hard to move on from him, but all of this has unraveled every bit of effort I made. I still love the idiot. Not that he’ll ever know. A tear falls down my cheek, and I hate myself for it. I don’t want to forgive him for what he did.
“This is really weighing on you,” my therapist, Eva, says. “I’ve been seeing you for months now, and I’ve never seen you cry.”
She hands me a tissue, which only makes me feel dumber. “I hate him.”
“Okay, can you tell me why?”
“I could, but I don’t want to.”
Eva laughs, her perfectly curled dark hair bouncing with her shoulders. “Give me one reason. Any reason.”
“He’s stupid. He acts like a man-child. He fucking broke my heart over a miscommunication. I thought that shit only happened in bad romance books. Who actually does that? It’s like he has no brain between his ears.”
Eva’s eyes widen a little. “Okay, that was a lot of reasons. Good. Tell me more about this miscommunication.”
“He overheard me speaking to my doctor,” I spit out.
“I’m not following.”
“The night I left Vegas. Dean says he overheard me cheating on him.” I’m sitting on the couch, but internally, I’m pacing. Barely containing my anger. “How could he think that about me? Me, the one girl who has always been there for him?!”
“Now you’ve completely lost me. How does you speaking to your doctor translate to cheating?”
“He says he heard me say, ‘Baby, I love you.’” I twist my voice into a mocking imitation.
Eva frowns. “Why would you say that to your doctor?”
“That was only part of the conversation. What I actually said was, ‘I’m going to have a baby, oh my god, I love you so much, thank you.’”
“The question remains the same.”
“Oh, right, you don’t know Cian.”
“Cian?”
Fuck, my mind is so scrambled I’m dropping names from home. “Uh, he’s my doctor back in Vegas. His family and mine have been close friends for generations.”
“Okay, so you and Cian are close?”
“In a brother-and-sister type of way, yes. He was always around when I was growing up, and he wasn’t like the other guys. He liked to read and didn’t care about training. So he and I would hole up in the living room. He’d study while I watched cartoons, or we’d watch movies together. He helped me learn coding.”
“I assume it wasn’t uncommon for you to express love for him.”
“Only during times of grief or joy. We weren’t overly lovey-dovey.”
“And Dean never spoke to you about what he heard?”
I shake my head. “That’s the worst part. He didn’t even ask me.”
“Why is that the worst?”
“Because he just believed it. He believed without a doubt that I could do that to him. It’s like the six months we were together meant nothing to him.”
“You felt like he didn’t know you.”
I nod, swallowing down the urge to cry. “He didn’t. Obviously. Not if he thought I would do that.”
“Let me ask you another question.”
“Okay?”
“Why didn’t you tell him about PJ?”
“He had just told me I was a mistake to him. What do you think he would’ve said about our child?”
She shrugs. “We don’t know.”
I scoff. “Yes, we do.”
“How do you know that?”
“He came to the house yesterday. With his grandparents.”
Eva leans in like she’s watching her favorite soap opera. “He did?”
“Yep.”
“And you told him about PJ?”
I nod. “He didn’t take it well.”
“Was he angry?”
“Very. And I think he felt betrayed. Like what he said wasn’t a good enough reason for me to run with his kid in my stomach, but apparently what he overheard was a good enough reason for him to break my heart.”
“The logic is flawed. But maybe we should cut him some slack. He did just find out he was a dad.”
“Yeah, that’s not really my thing.”
“Cutting people slack?”
“Forgiveness. Once someone hurts me, I do my best to turn off my emotions for them.”
“I see. Do you think that’s a healthy thing to do?”
“It’s the safest thing to do.”
“So that you’re never hurt again?”
“Exactly. No one should get that right.”
“That’s true. So tell me, is it working? Do you feel nothing for Dean?”
“Yeah, I’m over him.”
“You are?”
“Of course I am,” I lie. I’m totally not over him. “I’ve got Arnie now, and I’m happy with him.”
“You’re sure?” Eva squints her springy green eyes at me.
No.
“Absolutely.”
The only thing I’m absolutely sure of is that I’m screwed. I’m fucked. Absolutely, positively fucked.
“Okay, as long as you’re sure. Are you going to let Dean meet PJ?”
“I don’t think I have to worry about that. He’s not interested in being a father.”
“But if he was, would you let him?”
“Of course I would, but that’s not what he wants.”
It bothers me, too. How could he see our son and not want to be a part of his life? Doesn’t he see the sweet miracle we made? He can hate me all he wants, but he shouldn’t take it out on PJ. My only comfort is that PJ has no idea who Dean is. He didn’t even notice it much when Dean sat in the car instead of having lunch with us. PJ doesn’t know what he’s missing, but I do.
The beep of Eva’s timer lets me know our session is over.
“Don’t forget, I’m going to be out of the office for the next two weeks. So the next appointment will be in three, okay?”
“Got it,” I reply. “You’re going on vacation with your husband, right?”
“Yes, we’re going to France.”
A tinge of jealousy hits me. Her face is lit up with that dreamy look—the look of love. I miss that.
Grabbing my bag, I stand up. “Have a safe trip.”
“Thanks, Juliette. You take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yep.”
I leave her office and head for the elevator. As I press the button, I feel lost. Dean’s sudden appearance has knocked me off my axis, plunging me into an ocean of anxiety and turmoil. I’m desperately trying to stay afloat, but what happens if I drown?
The elevator dings on arrival. I’m relieved when the doors open and there’s no one inside. I don’t often see other people in this building, but I know the top ten floors are corporate offices. The few times I’ve done an evening appointment, I’ve run into them. My stomach flips as the car descends from the third floor.
It’s barely long enough for me to catch my breath before the doors open to reveal the empty lobby. My footsteps echo against the tile, rivaling a siren in volume. I hurry across to the door, sucking in a gulp of fresh air as I step outside.
The sun is so bright it makes my eyes ache. I feel like I’m on autopilot as I climb into my car. My mind is a mess, and I don’t know what to do. I thought I’d feel better after talking it out, but how can I do that when I can’t even be honest? This is one of those times where divine intervention would be handy—someone to tell me what to do, how to move on, how to wade through all this shit.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, but it doesn’t work. My nerves are whacked out, like a gremlin that got fed after midnight. I can’t pick PJ up like this—he’ll definitely know something is up.
I shift the car into drive and pull away from my parking spot. Suddenly, my phone rings, filling the car with its shrill trill. I jump at the loud sound, and my heart spikes when I see who’s calling.
“Jamie?” I say into the phone. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s Dean.”
My foot hits the brake at the sound of his tired voice. Honestly, at this rate, I might have a heart attack and die in the parking lot of my therapist’s office. The car squeals to a stop.
“What was that?” Dean asks.
“Nothing, just my car. What did you need?”
I’m shocked I can even form a sentence with how I’m feeling.
“I want to meet him.”
A definite heart attack now.
“What?”
“PJ. I want to meet him.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m his father. Why else?”
“Don’t snap at me,” I reply. “You didn’t seem so interested in being his father yesterday.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighs into the phone. “How I acted wasn’t okay or appropriate. I was stunned and hurt. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be his father, Juliette.”
He used my full name. Dean never does that—he always called me Bluebird. This means he’s pissed at me. Well, I’m pissed at him, too.
“Uh, okay.”
This is good, right? He wants to be part of PJ’s life. I should be happy for my son, and I am. But Dean being a part of PJ’s life means he’s part of mine. Do I really want back on that roller coaster?
“Okay? You’ll let me meet him?”
He sounds surprised.
“Yeah. I can’t really keep you from it, can I?” I’ve done enough of that already.
“Thank you. I can come to your house.”
“How about we meet at a park near my place?”
If I can help it, I’d rather not have him in my space. It’ll only hurt worse when he inevitably goes back to Vegas.
“That works. Just text me in the morning so I know what time is best.”
“Okay,” I say, eager to end the call.
“Oh, and Juliette?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not just claiming my son. I’m coming for you too, Bluebird. You’re mine.”
With that, he hangs up, his threat lingering in the air around me. My mouth drops open. Did he really just say that? I’m his? Is that what he thinks?
Well, he’s about to learn the truth: I don’t belong to anyone—least of all Dean Walsh.