Chloe
Chloedidn’tknowhow long she stood there, looking out at the space where Maxwell’s car had been, her lips still stinging from that final bruising kiss.
It didn’t hurt. Not yet anyway. Right now, all Chloe felt was numb. When she walked back to her desk, she couldn’t feel her feet touching the floor.
And when she called Julia, it was like a voice other than her own was speaking.
“What’s up, girl?” Julia asked brightly.
“I need to see you,” Chloe’s voice was a monotone, dull and dead.
“What happened?” Julia’s tone changed in an instant. “Chloe, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Chloe said quickly. “Would it be okay if I came by? You’re not too busy, are you?”
“Of course it’s okay,” Julia said. “What’s going on, Chloe? You’re scaring me.”
“Maxwell’s leaving. On the tenth.” It was a statement of fact, nothing more, nothing less. So why did those words sound like she was being sentenced to a life of misery?
“Oh shit,” Julia sounded like she might cry on Chloe’s behalf. “Not really? He can’t—”
“He is,” Chloe said. “So it’s okay if I come over?”
“Of course!” Julia said. “Are you okay to drive? I can come and pick you up if—”
“I can drive,” Chloe said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry. Just get here, and we’ll look after you.”
Chloe managed to get into her car and drive to Julia’s little freestanding cottage, five minutes’ drive from Bailey Street, without collapsing into tears. It wasn’t until the door opened to reveal Julia, Harriet and Jude in their pyjamas, arms outstretched to hug her, that Chloe crumpled.
“Hey, hey,” Julia said, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “It’s okay. You’re here now. We’re going to look after you.”
Chloe couldn’t speak as Julia led her to the couch, forcing her to sit down and wrapping a fleece blanket around her shoulders. She had always liked Julia’s living room. Chloe had no idea how she kept it so tidy with two preteens running around. It was a place of sanctuary with an enormous blue sectional that threatened to swallow you up when you sat down, an abundance of throw blankets and cushions, a small coffee table with a collection of succulents, scented candles, Julia’s latest romance novel half-open, and soft light from the big lamps in their paper shades.
“What happened, Chloe?” Julia asked, sitting down beside her while Harriet snuggled into her. Jude had disappeared; breakup talk must not be his thing. Chloe didn’t blame him.
“He came over and told me he was leaving,” Chloe said, feeling tears threaten. She forced them back. “He’s meeting his friends in Miami. He said we could still see each other before he goes. I told him I’d be too busy because I can’t—” She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Of course you can’t,” Julia agreed, hugging her again. “Shit, that was… I didn’t think he’d do something like that. He seemed so happy here, so happy with you.”
“I guess Crowley Lake doesn’t compare to Miami,” Chloe said stiffly. “He can always meet another woman. Plenty of women in Miami.”
“Oh, Chloe,” Julia said again. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Auntie Chloe?” Jude interrupted. Chloe looked up to see him standing in front of her, holding a huge tub of ice-cream and a spoon. “Do you want some ice-cream? In movies, ladies always eat ice-cream when they’re sad.”
And that was it. That was what set off the tears. Huge, body wracking sobs that shook the whole sectional sofa.
“I’m sorry!” Jude looked alarmed. “Did I do it wrong?”
“No,” Chloe managed to choke out between sobs. “You’re very sweet.”
“Chloe’s not sad because of you, Jude,” Julia said, reaching out to ruffle her nephew’s hair. “And she probably will want some ice-cream. That was kind of you.”
Chloe didn’t know how long she cried. It felt like hours, but it was probably only ten minutes. When she finally stopped, her sobs turning to snuffles, Harriet handed her a glass of water.
“Crying makes me thirsty,” she said simply, and Chloe managed to give her a weak smile.
“Thank you,” she said. “I think I’m ready for ice-cream, too.” The truth was, she didn’t feel like eating anything. But she wanted Jude to know how much his sweet gesture had meant to her.
“Go get some bowls, honey,” Julia said to Jude. “I just can’t believe it,” she went on. “I mean, I really thought that if you were honest with him about how you felt, he’d tell you that he was just as crazy about you, and everything would be wonderful.”
Chloe made a soft sound. “I didn’t tell him how I felt,” she said quietly.
“Chloe!” Julia sounded like she wanted to shake her. “Why the hell not?”
“Because he was already leaving!” Chloe spat out. “Why would I tell him that I’m—” She paused. “It wouldn’t change anything, and I can’t stand the thought of him feeling sorry for me. Letting me down gently. I just can’t. If he felt the same, he wouldn’t be leaving, would he?”
Julia was silent for a long moment. “Maybe not,” she said. “Or he could just be really stupid and not realise how he feels. Men are stupid.”
“Hey!” Jude reappeared with the bowls.