Chapter 32
JULES
Isat in my home office, aimlessly scrolling through videos on my phone. It was the usual parade of celebrity gossip and entertainment news, none of it really holding my attention until one video made me freeze.
“Jules and Chris Jones. The blind items say they’re soft-launching the divorce to spare the kids…”
What? My thumb hovered over the screen.
“Like all of you, I really hope that’s not true. I love those two. But… it looks more and more like it.” I set the phone down on the table, my mind spinning. Divorce? Kids? I closed my eyes and pressed my nails hard into my palms, the sharp sting grounding me.
And then a knock on the door startled me, interrupting my ritual. When I opened my eyes and glanced back at the phone, something was… different. “And again, that’s Blake and Ben Harris. Our darling Hollywood couple with counted days…” the journalist continued.
My stomach flipped as I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of what had happened.
Was I daydreaming? Fuck. I hadn’t had one in weeks.
Since Chris left the house that day, it felt like my brain had been forcefully anchored here, in this reality, with all the painful reminders that he and I weren’t working.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door opened, and Carol stepped in.
“Hey,” she said quietly, holding a mug of coffee in her hands.
“Hey…”
“I brought you some coffee.” She placed the mug next to my computer and lingered, watching me. “How are you doing?”
I forced a small smile. “I’ll be okay.” I didn’t know if it was true, but what choice did I have? I had to keep going.
Carol’s expression didn’t shift. She wasn’t buying it.
“What are you going to do?”
I blinked at her. I wasn’t sure what she was talking about.
I hadn’t told her about last night—about seeing Chris.
I hadn’t had the strength to go there and remember how his voice had cracked, his eyes had been so heartbreakingly sad, or how that kiss had shattered me into a million pieces because I knew it was goodbye.
“About what?” I asked.
“George,” she clarified. “I heard everything, remember?”
Oh. That.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
Last night had been such a mess, I hadn’t even had a second to process the weight of George’s words or what it actually meant to have that ring on my finger.
Yeah, I was aware that made me a class-A asshole.
The father of my kids deserved better than that.
But who was I kidding? The only reason I had even let him slip that ring back was because I was hurting.
For another man. That wasn’t fair—not to him, not to me, not to anyone.
No matter how much we had fought or neglected each other as a couple, I couldn’t deny that George was a great father and an all-around good person. I looked down at the gold band on my finger, a wave of guilt crashing over me.
Shit. Take it off. I slid it off and set it on the table next to my phone.
“I know you think I should go back with him, but…” I started, trailing off.
“No, I don’t!” Carol cut in quickly, surprising me.
I blinked at her. “I can’t,” I said. “I’m finally writing again.
And I’m sure he’ll find someone to be the wife he wanted me to be.
” I meant it. He deserved someone who wanted the same things he did and gave him the life he dreamed of.
And I needed to figure out who I was on my own. Going back was never an option.
As painful as it was to learn about how Chris and I should have met all those years ago, there was one thing I knew for sure.
In that other reality, I had made it as a writer and producer.
I was always good enough. It was about damn time I stopped letting anyone or anything get in the way of my aspirations.
I didn’t know what I was going to do yet, but I was ready to start.
On my own.
Scary? Yes. But also kind of thrilling.
Carol didn’t push. She shifted gears instead.
“Victoria and I were thinking we could take the weekend and go to Atlantic City. Get shit-faced. Are you in?”
I laughed despite myself. The mere thought of tequila made my stomach churn, the memory of last night still way too fresh.
“As fun as being your third wheel sounds, I think I’ll stay home and soak.”
She sighed dramatically. “I’ll reluctantly respect that.”
My phone buzzed on the table, pulling my attention. I glanced at the screen and saw a new email notification. My thumb moved automatically, and I opened the email without thinking. Carol’s voice became a distant hum as she kept talking.
“If you change your mind, you can always come and meet us…”
But I wasn’t listening anymore. My eyes scanned the email, and my breath hitched as I read it:
“Dear Ms. Davis,
I loved your new script. Thank you for sharing. I’ll be in NYC on Monday.
Can we meet up for coffee and talk about the next steps?
Best regards,
Robert C.”
I stared at the message, my eyes narrowing to sharpen the words into focus. Was I daydreaming again? Was this a glitch?
“Dear Ms. Davis, I loved your…” I whispered the words aloud.
“Hey. Are you here?” My sister’s voice cut through the fog, snapping me back to the room.
I looked up at her, my mind still a whirlwind.
“I’m sorry. The strangest thing just happened.” Strange didn’t even begin to cover it. My brain was spinning so fast that I could barely form a coherent thought. “I got an email from Robert Connell… about my new script.”
Carol’s brows furrowed. “Wow!” she paused. “I’m assuming that’s a famous person, right?”
I didn’t even register her joke.
“Where did he get my script?” I muttered, more to myself than to her.
Maybe I could manifest things into reality, too.
That would be a superpower I would love to have.
Before my brain could spiral into an unhinged train of thought, I noticed Carol suddenly edging toward the door like a kid sneaking out of class.
Oh no. Nope. I knew that move too well. She was trying to make a quiet escape before I put two and two together. Too late.
“Carol?” I called out.
“Yes?” She froze mid-step, her hand half-reaching for the doorframe, caught in the act.
My eyes narrowed. “Do you know something about this?” The pieces were clicking together now, and they had Carol written all over them.
“Nooo…” she dragged the word out.
“Carol.” I crossed my arms, glaring at her. “I know you. Spill!”
She hesitated, guilt written all over her face. With a sigh, she finally broke.
“It was Chris…” His name hit me like a punch to the chest, leaving me breathless. I blinked, trying to make sense of this.
“He never even read this script,” I said.
“Well… he asked me to send it to him. So, I did,” Carol admitted.
“Why would you do that?” I snapped. Oh, I was pissed. “I hadn’t even edited it yet!”
She crossed her arms, ready to defend herself.
“Come on, Jules. You’ve edited it like a million times.”
“It doesn’t matter! It was not your place to—”
“I get it, ok?” she interrupted. “You were always taking care of everyone. Of Mom, then of me, then of your kids…”
I shook my head, trying to follow where she was going with this. “What are you…”
“You can do something for you now. It’s ok. We’ll be ok,” she said.
I froze. The words hung in the air like glowing neon: It’s ok.
We’ll be ok. I didn’t think anyone had ever said that to me.
Not once. Ever. I was so young when I stepped into the caretaker role—first for my mom, then for Carol, and eventually for my kids.
Hearing it now felt like someone had reached into my chest and held my heart in their hands.
Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. Shit. I didn’t want to cry.
“I know he might be wrong in so many ways. But you were too, remember? You were bat-shit crazy before the kids.”
I let out a small, bitter laugh, shaking my head at the memory.
“I kind of miss her sometimes,” I admitted quietly. That version of me felt so far away now, buried under the weight of responsibility.
Carol smirked. “I miss her, too. She was fun.”
My mind scanned through memories of younger me and all the little and big things I’d gone through that had shaped who I was now.
The heartbreak of leaving behind my dream career, moving back to New York, building a new one from scratch.
Meeting George. Getting married. Having the kids.
All things Chris never got the chance to go through.
I forced my brain not to replay his words from that day—when he said I got it all and he didn’t.
I didn’t want to think about it, because on some level, he was right.
I ended up with the kids, and that alone had changed and improved me in ways he couldn’t understand.
“But I don’t think we can be what the other one needs right now.”
“Maybe not,” Carol said gently. “But you two deserve at least some closure, right? I know you’ve only known each other for a couple of months, but… I don’t know. You two seemed good. Like you’ve been together for years.”
Did she know? She couldn’t possibly. I hadn’t told her anything.
But maybe Chris had? God, the idea of him confiding in my sister…
was almost laughable. Still, I couldn’t deny there was something to what she said.
For a moment, Chris and I had felt so… right.
Like we’d lived a thousand lifetimes together.
Maybe we had.
“You don’t need to take life so seriously all the time,” Carol said, nudging me with her shoulder.
“I don’t think I can turn it off.”
Wouldn’t that be nice? Ten more years of therapy might get me close, but for now? Not a chance.
Carol smiled knowingly. “Well… you can try to tone it down. Maybe? At least for the next few days, there’s no one you need to think about. Except… you!”