But then the moment passed and Adam kept walking.
Jules’s breath whooshed out, and it took everything she had not to crumple into a ball on the street and start crying. When the heck had she started to care about that man so much? She was an idiot, and quite possibly insane. She turned, feeling like she was walking through molasses, and looked straight into Grant’s gray eyes. And I thought today couldn’t get any worse.
He smiled. “Trouble in paradise?”
Did he think she cared about what he thought when her heart was walking away from her, the pain cutting deeper with each step he took? She’d thought herself in love with Grant back in the day, but it hadn’t been a drop in the ocean compared to what she felt for Adam. So Jules lifted her chin and stared down her nose at her ex. “Here’s a tip, Grant—fuck off.” She marched into her café and shut the door behind her.
It was clear from the expressions on the handful of customers around that they’d seen and/or heard everything. She tried for a smile. “Does anyone need a coffee refill?”
Mrs. Peterson walked over and took her hands. “I’m so sorry, honey. But after Grant, you really should have known better.”
The walls around her seemed to be moving closer. She carefully extracted her hand. “Adam is nothing like that…that…douchecanoe. How dare you even compare them? He’s stubborn to the point of idiocy and proud and in pain, but that’s no reason to put him in the same box.” In a distant part of her mind, she knew she was ranting, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “And for God’s sake, I’m twenty-six. Just because I’ve been dumped unceremoniously twice in my life doesn’t mean I’m doomed to be alone, and I’ll thank you—and everyone else in this town—kindly to remember that. At the very least I should have three shots to get it right before you regulate me to the shelf!”
She strode across the room and through the door into the back, not looking at anyone for fear of seeing more pitying looks. Jamie jumped about ten feet when she barged in, but Jules ignored her cousin and just kept walking, up the stairs and into her apartment. Aubry jumped nearly a foot in the air when she walked through the door, but her surly expression disappeared the instant she saw Jules. “What happened?”
It took two tries to get the words out. “Adam and I are over.”
Aubry straightened, her amber eyes narrowing. “You were fine three hours ago. What did he do? Do I have to get out my body-burying kit?”
She was only half sure Aubry was joking. It didn’t make her feel any better that her friend was willing to go to such lengths for her. “If you go to jail, I won’t have anyone.”
“That’s not true. Your parents love you very much, even if they live a million miles away, and your extended family is as meddling as they are numerous.” She huffed. “Though I guess they’re pretty cool, too.”
“Aubry…” She stumbled over and sank onto the couch. “Something happened—something bad. I knew he was leaving—I couldn’t escape that fact—but I thought we had more time. Maybe I’m asking too much. I just want him to let me in, but it feels like he shuts me out of anything that isn’t the good parts of him. What kind of relationship is that?”
“I’m not going to pretend I know a damn thing about relationships, but even I know that wanting the whole of someone isn’t a bad thing.” She glared out the window as if he was standing right there. “He’s an idiot. A big-headed, knuckle-dragging, troublemaking idiot. He doesn’t deserve you.”
That was the problem. She wasn’t sure it was the truth. She took a deep breath. “I should have known better. It shouldn’t matter so much what the town thinks of me. Instead of coming up with some crazy plan with my fake boyfriend, I should have done what every normal single woman in her twenties does and joined an internet dating site. There’s a world outside Devil’s Falls, and I’m sure I could find someone who isn’t a troll or a serial killer to love me.”
“Jules—”
She stood. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Too goddamn bad.” Aubry grabbed her elbow and yanked her back down onto the couch. “Life is about risk—don’t you look at me like that, I know I don’t follow that rule—and you took one. And for the last fucking time, you’re not boring. A boring woman would have married Grant and been his little wife with no identity of her own. You don’t have to be a wild child or fuel for the gossip mill to be unique and amazing, and I’m stopping now before we both start to cry.”