“No …” I sigh and rub my temples.
He’s still there.
His mom died. I let him sleep outside all night. I can’t win. I can’t find that balance between doormat and raging bitch.
I slowly pad my way toward the front door. Before opening it, I have a moment. Everything hits me all at the same time. Leaning my back against the door, I hold my breath to keep from making a single noise, but my body vibrates as emotions shake me, the earthquake I knew was coming.
Sniffle.
Wipe my tears.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
The look in Shep’s eyes when he thought I might be pregnant with his baby. It slayed me once then again when I told him it wasn’t his.
And the story about Millie not wanting kids.
It’s so much.
Jimmy …
His mom who I knew and cared about too …
It’s too much.
I slip outside, my feet at Jimmy’s head. “I’m very sorry, Jimmy.”
He sniffles, lifting his head just enough to gaze at me through red, swollen eyes. I’ve never seen Jimmy cry.
“I have nowhere to go, Sophie.” His face scrunches, and he begins to cry again. Shoulders hunched. Body shaking in silent sobs.
Fuck my life.
If heaven exists, I want wings. Crowns. A parade in my name. Something really special because I’m being a saint. I’m giving people babies. I’m taking in the homeless. Caring for abandoned dogs in my own way.
“Come on.” I hold out my hand.
Jimmy stares at it for a few seconds before taking it. We go inside to the bedroom. His bedroom. After he crawls onto the bare mattress, since I threw out the sheets, I grab a blanket and cover him. Then I make a dozen saintly trips from the driveway to the house, returning all of his belongings to the bedroom.
“Sophie,” his gravelly voice stops me just as I shut off the light to the bedroom and start to pull the door shut. “You’re too good to me … too good for me.”
Jimmy … who knew he would be the one to humble me at the end of a long couple of days?
I’m not too good for him. I’m not better than anyone else, just different. Just not the one for him. He deserves what we all deserve: to be loved, to be desired, to be wanted.
As I get dressed, and do my hair in the bathroom mirror, I let a few tears make a slow descent down my face. I don’t know if this round of tears is for me, for Shep, or for Jimmy. I’m just incredibly sad.
The image of Shep looking at me in bed—the moment I knew he was about to say something that I wasn’t ready for him to say—it takes front and center in my mind.
So I call him.
Setting my phone on the edge of the vanity, I wipe my tears and pull out my makeup to fix my blotchy face before I have to go to work.
“Hey,” he answers in a somber tone.
“Hey,” I echo him.
What I wouldn’t give for him to ask me what I’m wearing.
He doesn’t.
“Everything okay?”
I nod, dragging in a shaky breath. “Yeah. I just …”
Miss you. Want you. Love you. Yeah, I love you, Shep.
“I feel like things are weird, and they don’t have to be. I didn’t think I needed another friend beyond Jules. But I think I’ll miss you if I don’t see you. And that’s unnecessary. I mean, I’m pregnant. So what? Really, why can’t we talk, golf, take the dogs to the park? Maybe catch a movie or … anything. Before we were best friends, we were normal, regular, run of the mill friends. Can’t we go back? I … I thought we agreed to go back to that before the trip to Santa Monica. What happened?”
Silence.
I start to question if he’s still on the line.
“I’m walking the shelter dogs Friday afternoon. Meet at the park?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Bye, Sophie.”
“Bye, Shep.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“No. Just … no, Sophie.” Jules looks as devastated as I felt when I caved two days ago. I get it. I really do.
I nod to the waitress when she holds up a pitcher of water. After she refills my cup, I frown at Jules. “I realize it seems so simple right now, sitting here in a cafe with upbeat music playing. But there was no upbeat music. The sun had set. It was just the heartbreaking sobs of a man grieving the loss of his mom. I didn’t cave. I waited all night. I let him sleep at my door because I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t think he’d still be there in the morning. But he was. Really, you can’t honestly say you wouldn’t have done the same thing in my shoes.”
She deflates, rubbing her hands over her face. “I know. I do know. It’s just that he had left the premises. You changed the locks. Gah!”