but it wasn’t easy. Do you know how many times I contemplated taking my own life? Do you?”
I flinch, choking on the lump in my throat that grows a little more with every word of her revelation.
Julie blinks back her tears. “Be…” emotion trips up her words “…because I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Why was I so unhappy with my life? Why did this perfect life feel like a goddamn burden? I felt so inadequate as a mother, a doctor, a wife, a person … Do you know what it feels like to feel like a failure as a human being?”
My jaw clenches as my eyes burn with unshed tears.
“It’s so … fucking … lonely,” she whispers before sucking in a shaky breath and looking at the ceiling like her tears can defy gravity if she just keeps looking upward.
“You two going to eat with us—” Mom stops as her gaze ping-pongs between me and Julie. “You know, your dad turned the porch heaters on. We’re all going to sit out there and eat. You both take your time.” She rests her hand on Julie’s shoulder for a breath before disappearing into the kitchen.
“You should see someone,” I say with resignation. “My mom. Julie, you could talk to my mom. If you’re depressed—”
“Don’t.” She brushes off my efforts to show concern. “I’ve already seen someone. I’m already taking medications—mood stabilizers, antidepressants. And I hate it. I hate them and what they mean. I hate that something is wrong with me. But I’m taking them for Roman because he deserves to have a mom who is present and reliable. And I’ve been going to therapy. Granted, it’s only been a month, but I’m doing the work.”
I rub my forehead. Bipolar. She’s bipolar, and I didn’t see it. How did that happen? How the hell did I miss that? “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I didn’t want you to feel responsible. Until I realized I did in fact want you. But I don’t want you to come back to me out of some feeling of responsibility. It’s not your problem. Not your responsibility.”
“Jules, asking me to come back into your life makes it my problem, which makes it my responsibility too.”
“If you come back.”
I nod slowly. “If …”
Julie studies me for a few seconds. “Do you love her?”
“Yes,” I whisper, because I do … I unapologetically love Dorothy Mayhem.
I wait for Julie’s next question, readying myself for what will be my difficult answer.
Julie will ask me if I still love her.
And I will say yes.
In spite of everything—the blindsided abandonment, losing my marriage, losing time with Roman, the jagged words—I love Julie Hathaway. For over twenty years, I honestly felt I was put on Earth to love her. It’s just that simple.
Or so I thought …
But Julie says nothing. And that’s fine.
I don’t need her to know at this point that I love her. Just like I don’t need her to know that I spent the year after our divorce hating her to the bone, but somehow still loving her right down to my soul.
It’s complicated.
“Can I bring you a plate of food?” She smiles. Not a great smile, more like her dog died, but he’d had a good life so all will be fine eventually.
I know that smile too well. It’s the one I wore on my face for months after she left me. “Thank you. That would be great.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dorothy
“Did I do something wrong?” Warren follows me to the elevator from the cafeteria after my break. He grins as if he can do no wrong.
It’s been six weeks since the fondue date from Hell.
Six weeks since Eli’s accident.
And three weeks since I’ve seen Eli. Not that he hasn’t made ample attempts at calling and texting me. He has. I’ve just been busy.
Busy with school.
Busy with work.
Busy biding my time until he heals. Then I will, once again, tell him to go back to Dr. Hathaway, and that messy lust and love chapter (and by chapter, I mean a dozen or more journals) can be stamped complete.
The End.
“Um, yeah,” I answer, staring at the elevator doors while rolling my lips between my teeth and drumming my fingers on my arms hugged to my chest.
Go away. Go away. Go away.
“Well, are you going to tell me exactly what I did that has earned me the cold shoulder?”
What I did sounds singular. I have an entire journal of all the things I find “wrong” with Warren. Where am