Chapter 31
JULES
Carol, Victoria, and I lined up at the bar, each of us throwing back a shot in perfect, drunken sync. The tequila hit me immediately—deliciously hot, burning its way down my throat like a warm, welcoming friend. It was comforting somehow, that burn. Step one to quiet my loud, chaotic brain.
Or was it step four? How many shots did I take?
Ahn…
I bit into the lime. Carol and Victoria followed, their faces twisted in that universal tequila grimace. Amateurs. I actually loved the taste. Sour, tangy, and unapologetically sharp, kind of like how I felt about life.
While everyone else went through it savoring the sweetness, I was over here sucking on a lime.
At first, I thought it was unfair, watching everyone else eat their metaphorical marshmallows, but over time, I realized that sweet wasn’t for me.
Too fake. And people who were too sweet?
Even worse. Nobody’s that perfect. If you’re all sugar, you’re hiding something, right?
Oops. There it was. Train-of-thought Jules had entered the chat, which meant the tequila was definitely working.
The nightclub was a mess of sound and movement. Four shots later, and the world around me was getting easier to handle. The noise didn’t bother me as much, and my shoulders relaxed. And the song that was playing? Perfection.
Bodies moved all around me, loose and carefree, swaying in time to the beat.
I watched them for a second—these people who seemed so weightless, so unburdened.
Like they’d hacked life and found a cheat code for pure, uninhibited fun.
I envied the hell out of them. What would it be like to feel so… light?
One day, maybe.
Not today.
Life was heavy. Even here, even now.
My only real escape? Another shot.
I signaled to the bartender for another round. Carol and Victoria exchanged a look.
Too fast.
I didn’t care.
Carol leaned in close, her grin downright evil.
“Sooo… is it okay to talk about sex with Chris Jones yet, or do we need to give you a couple more weeks?”
My eyes rolled so hard they practically detached. The two of them burst into laughter, clearly proud of themselves.
“Give me a couple more months,” I deadpanned. I didn’t want to talk about him. Thinking about Chris was already too much, but sex with Chris? Forget it. That man ruined me. His hands, his body…
Fuck.
I felt his touch again, like it was real, and my body betrayed me, warming in response. Damn, tequila. I shook my head like I could physically dislodge the memory. Nope. Not tonight. I wasn’t acting on anything, so I couldn’t afford to think about it.
Victoria smirked and added, “You know, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
I groaned, shaking my head.
“Oh my God! Did you really say that?” Victoria was pulling out the popular sayings like she was starring in a rom-com. She was drunk too, so I couldn’t exactly blame her.
This was too good. Shit, I was actually having fun.
I wished I didn’t need tequila to get there, but…
screw it. Tonight, I wasn’t “Mom Jules.” I wasn’t the Jules with endless responsibilities, deadlines, or a never-ending to-do list. I was just Jules.
Old Jules. And I missed her. She was fun, right?
A little deranged, prone to overthinking, and okay, majorly prone to disassociating, but she wasn’t this tired, heavy person I had become.
One night. I could be her for one night.
Another shot? Yes. Maybe. No. No, no, no. Stop it.
The laughter between us grew, buzzing with that reckless energy. As the hilarity began to die down, Victoria leaned in, suddenly looking more serious.
“Jokes aside, I’m pretty sure Jessica Rogers is waving at you.”
I blinked, not sure I’d heard her right.
“What?”
She pointed toward the crowd, and I followed her gaze until my eyes landed on—oh my God—Jessica Rogers. She was waving. At me. Jessica Rogers looked hot. Like really hot. Old Jules loved to explore, and for a second, the thought crossed my mind. Maybe she… nope. Stop it.
I waved back before I could overthink, and Jess gestured for me to come over.
Wait. Me?
“Oh shit! She’s calling you. Go! Go!” Carol nudged me with a huge, excited grin.
“No way,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I’m not going by myself. You guys need to come with me.”
Fun-drunk Victoria was already on board. God, I loved that girl. I was so happy my sister found someone as amazing as her. “Oh, I have no problem with that!” she said, already leading the way.
We navigated through the pulsating crowd, weaving between sweaty dancers, strobe lights, and random drink spills. The V.I.P. area was ahead, surrounded by security. Fancy. The air even felt different here.
As soon as Jess spotted us, her face lit up and she walked towards the velvet rope. She was visibly tipsy. No judgments there.
“Chris’ new girl!! I remember you!” she called out, slurring slightly. “Jules, isn’t it?” I forced a smile, but it was tight. Could people please stop mentioning Chris for one second?
“Chris’ ex-girl,” I corrected, raising my eyebrows. “Yes.”
Jessica’s expression shifted, her smile turning into something more knowing, like she’d been here a hundred times before—and she probably had. She let out a little laugh.
“Oh. Of course. So on brand for him. Come on in.”
I gestured toward Carol and Victoria. “I’m with my friends.”
Jessica’s gaze slid over them, assessing, sizing them up. Then her face broke into a wide grin.
“They’re hot! They can come in, too.” She turned to the guards like she owned the place, which, honestly, she probably did in a way. “They’re with me.” Then back to me with a warm smile. “Come, come.”
Carol looked like she might explode from excitement as we stepped past the velvet rope into the VIP area. She practically vibrated. Her eyes darted everywhere, wide with the thrill of it all. She was living for this moment, soaking up every glamorous detail.
Okay, fine. I was excited, too. I mean, how could I not be?
Jessica freakin’ Rogers had personally invited us into her orbit.
But I needed to play it cool, at least cooler than my little sister.
Because hello, this was Jessica Rogers—my girl crush, my favorite badass screen queen.
She was standing right here, in front of me, and wow. Just… wow.
I was going to need another drink.
A couple of hours in, I found myself completely wrapped up in the night.
It was me, Victoria, Carol, Jess, and a few of her friends, all caught in the euphoric blur of good music, strong drinks, and even stronger energy from the crowd.
I was singing with the band at the top of my lungs. I’d forgotten how much I loved music.
The buzz of the tequila made things feel lighter. For once, I wasn’t the overworked, overstressed mom of two. I was just Jules. Just me. The music vibrated on my chest, and for the first time in so long, I wasn’t overthinking anything.
That was until a random woman leaned into Jess, whispering something in her ear. And my brain snapped back into gear. The carefree haze wavered as I noticed Jess’ expression stiffen. Oh, no. Whatever was said, it wasn’t good. Jess’ voice cut through the music.
“Oh shit!”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, already bracing myself.
Her eyes darted around the room like she was scanning for a threat. She leaned in.
“Chris is here.”
Shit.
Carol immediately caught the tension, her head snapping toward Jess.
“What’s going on?”
Jess didn’t waste time explaining; she raised her voice so we could all hear her over the music.
“Chris. Is. Here.”
Double shit.
I saw Victoria and Carol exchange worried looks. I wasn’t that drunk anymore. The tequila haze was replaced by a pang of anger. It wasn’t sadness or longing. Not this time. Just… rage.
Motherfucking Chris Jones.
I blinked a few times, grounding myself. I was having fun. Too much fun for him to ruin this. But the anger wouldn’t stop bubbling. That motherfucker. That son of a bitch. That egotistical, self-centered—Stop it, Jules. Focus.
Carol must’ve caught the turmoil on my face because she grabbed my arm and asked softly. “Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to steady against the rush of emotions threatening to swallow me whole.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I lied. My voice was too even, too controlled. I was not fine. I was drunk, I was pissed, and I needed to pull it together before I spiraled. I paused for a beat, then added, “I need to go to the bathroom and wash my face. I’m too drunk for this.”
Carol’s grip on my arm tightened. “I’ll come with you.”
I shook my head quickly, plastering on a small smile to reassure her.
“No. It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
I pushed my way through the crowd. Fuck. The tight, sweaty press of people was starting to get to me. My head felt heavy. Maybe I should leave. No.
Wash your face. Reset. Be human. Now.
I kept moving, focusing on weaving through the throng of bodies. Then I saw him.
Chris.
My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, I forgot how to do the most basic thing: breathe. I stopped walking, rooted to the spot as dizziness washed over me. Fuck. Jules, breathe. I forced the air back into my lungs, but it hitched on the way down.
He looked drunk. No—trashed. His movements were all over the place, unsteady and sloppy.
Typical. And beside him, Anna. Of course.
And… oh, great, some other girl who couldn’t have been a day over twenty-one.
The three of them were entangled in a messy, drunken make-out session, limbs and tongues everywhere. I could see their tongues from here.
Ew.
My stomach twisted. How could I still feel this way? I swallowed hard, forcing the ache back down where it belonged. No tears. No. Not here, not now. But then—because of course, it had to happen—his eyes found mine.