Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“You want the inside skinny on whether or not she’s a flake?” I suggest.
Jules cheeks turn pink as she grumbles, “Something like that.”
I chuckle as I step to the side and lean against the stonework on the side of their porch. Shrugging, I say, “I think she’s cool. I mean, she’s funny, smart, and seems to have a good head on her shoulders.”
“But,” Jules prods, sensing something else.
“But nothing,” I say evasively.
Jules just cocks an eyebrow at me and crosses her arms over her chest.
My head turns and I dart a glance through the large windows of the front door all the way out to the glass doors on the back deck, and I see Max is still working on the grill cleaning it. While I love my brother to death, I could stand to get some advice, and I think I need it from Jules more than Max.
Looking back to her I move away from the wall and take a few steps closer to her. She pushes off the door and straightens, perhaps sensing this is going to get personal.
“So, I’ve learned a little about Stephanie,” I tell her in a low voice. “And she, um…well, she didn’t have a good life growing up.”
“Poor?” Jules guesses, and she would know something about that for sure. She didn’t have the rosiest of upbringings.
I shake my head. “The opposite. Extremely wealthy, high-powered parents who didn’t want a kid and made it perfectly clear to Stephanie that’s how they felt.”
Jules gives a startled gasp. “Good God.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, I continue to tell her some other details I’d found out from Stephanie on Sunday when I was over there. “She has absolutely no one in her life. No relationship at all with her parents except some infrequent phone calls to check in. No other family at all, and not one close friend that she hangs with.”
“That’s weird,” Jules mumbles.
“I think so too. So I asked her why that was and she just brushed it off by saying that growing up in a boarding school environment didn’t really facilitate friendship because it was so competitive.”
“But you don’t believe that?” she guesses.
“Nope,” I reply. “I think she just can’t trust anyone to let them in. She fended off questions from me before she started opening up. But she is the most closed off person I think I’ve ever met, and personally, I think it’s because her parents fucked up her head by not supporting her through life and acting like she was a burden on them. I don’t think she trusts anyone but herself, and that’s why she’s so stubbornly independent and stoic about things.”
“I don’t get it,” Jules murmurs. “She’s so outgoing and her humor is razor sharp. She seems…happy.”
I nod again. “I think she is happy for what she knows happiness to be. I think she’s content with her life and she’s accepted it. I don’t get that she’s overly bitter or angry, it’s just made her closed off from her feelings.”
“And from intimacy?” Jules suggests, and that hits me right in the stomach.
Intimacy is such a confusing word. It can mean many things to many people, but I think Jules actually nailed it. While Steph and I have gotten down and dirty with each other, I’m not so sure how much intimacy there’s been. She’s opened up to me some, but she’s also closed off in many ways. I haven’t seen her since her morning sickness bout on Sunday, but that’s because I had a game Monday night and then we flew out the next day to Florida for another game.
But here’s the problem.
I actually missed her when I was gone. I hardly know this woman, and yet I have feelings for her that I’ve never had for another person. It’s not love, but it’s something deep. I realized it as she was throwing up in the toilet and I thought this woman is carrying my child, and here she is suffering because of it. At that moment, something took hold of my heart and carved out a section that would belong only to Stephanie, and I became suddenly afraid that I’d never be myself again.
She’s going to go through hell—her words not mine, because she’s a bit scared about the pregnancy—and all so she can give birth to something that is part of me. Considering what little she’s told me about her family life, I’ve got to say it impresses the hell out of me that she was going to make this journey on her own whether or not I was involved. Say what you want about how fucked up she is about relationships and trust, she’s an immensely strong and brave woman.
I simply respect her.
“Here’s the thing,” I say. “I can see something more with her, but I’m not sure she could say the same back to me. So my point is, if you are considering helping her with her business idea, do it with the understanding she and I might be nothing more than co-parents, and I have no clue how that’s going to work out. We’ve not even talked about those issues yet.”