From the Inside Out: The Compilation (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, Austin) (19 page)

Standing in front of me, glass dividing us, she slowly places her hand flat against the window, against mine. My forehead drops forward as does hers, our eyes closing together. The glass is cool but starts to heat with her near, our bodies so close.

Sneaking a peek, she turns her cheek, pressing it against the glass and I kiss it.
Innocent.

She turns to see the remains of the kiss that I gave. Her lips press against the glass on the opposite side of where mine were and that’s when I know for sure. She feels this just as much as I do. It’s real. What we’re sharing is real.

She steps back and waves goodbye, her words muffled through the thick glass, her face smiling, “Go, Dylan. I have work to do.” She laughs and so do I as I back away with a small salute.

“Bye,” I mouth then jog away, feeling on top of the world. I always want to feel this good. While hailing a cab, I grin ear to ear, thinking that things are progressing nicely.

Now, what excuse can I come up with to see her over the weekend? Hmmm….

I FEEL LIKE
I’ve taken two steps forward, one step back.

Hours.
It’s taking me hours to get to Jules’ front door. I spent the first half of today working even though it’s Saturday to take my mind off her. I made a few calls to my family because I hadn’t checked in with them lately. My mom answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Mom?”

“Dylan, how are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“Keeping busy. I’m going to the flower show later. I’ll be dragging your father.”

“Bet he’ll love that,” I joke.

She laughs. “He’s a good sport. We might go to lunch afterwards. I’ll let him pick the restaurant to make up for it. So how’s your social life? How’s the Big Apple treating my son?”

“I’ve been working a lot.”

“No fun?” she asks.

“I’ve gone to some art exhibits.”

“There are some nice galleries there. Maybe next time I’m there, we can visit a few.”

“I can take you to Jules’.” I say it before I think twice.

“Jules’ gallery? Are you talking again?”

I pause, careful what I say next. “I ran into her at one of the exhibits.”

“Oh,” she says. “How did that go?”

“Okay.”

“She emailed me a few months ago and said she had—”

I hold the phone tighter to my ear, thinking I just heard her wrong. “Wait, back up. She emailed you?”

“We email every now and again.”

“Since when?”

Now she pauses and I readjust at my desk, anxious for her answer. Then she replies with a lilt to her voice, “We’ve never stopped, Dylan. It’s not much, but every 2 or 3 months one of us will email and the other will reply. I’m sorry. I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings.”

“No,” I say, still surprised. “I’m glad. I know the breakup was hard on everyone. I’m sorry I let you down.”

“No, honey, it’s not that. I just missed her. People change. You changed and felt the need to move on. I wasn’t judging you for your decision.”

“Mom, I have regrets—technically two. One, when I left Jules, and the other, for not groveling at her feet to take me back. I knew what I did was wrong even that first night. Everything was different.” I remember how odd it was the toothbrush next to mine was bright pink instead of green, red satin sheets, instead of cotton. The woman next to me was Hillary, not Juliette. I threw up three times that night, claiming I had food poisoning.

I didn’t.
I had heart poisoning.

My mom sighs, bringing me back to my phone call. She sounds sad. Apparently in the emails, Jules writes in general terms, never giving away too much but enough to keep the connection alive. It makes me wonder why she does it, why she keeps it going? And why did I not know about this until now?

Jules hasn’t mentioned Austin to her and I don’t either. I don’t know what to think of her secrets. Maybe she doesn’t tell her simply because she’s talking to
my
mom. But if he’s a part of her life, what appears to be a big part, why not tell her?

I think I know why. Jules doesn’t want to destroy my mother’s dreams. She’s kind like that, the daughter my mom always wanted. Maybe, just maybe, Jules holds onto that dream too. When I hang up the phone, I get up and leave.

And here I am. Finally, I’m in front of our old apartment, now just her apartment. I raise my hand three different times to knock, but don’t all three times.

I wait.

I listen
.

I can hear that she’s home.

I raise my hand and do it this time.
Knock. Knock. Knock.

“One moment,” she calls from behind the wood barrier.

My hands are sweating and I pull at my collar needing more air. This landing is suddenly stifling. The building key still works. I question if the apartment key that resides on my keychain still will. I kept it, but like most things pertaining to our past together, I don’t allow myself to dwell on it too much.

Jules is laughing when the door swings wide open. With her wallet in hand, her smile falls as shock takes over. “Dylan?”

Not the reaction I was hoping for. “Hi,” I reply.

“What are you doing here?” Her tone is harsh, it hurts to hear.

“I wanted to talk to you, to see y—”

She cuts me off. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Sweetheart, is that the food?” My eyes are redirected over her shoulder before she has a chance to pull the door closed enough to block him. “Dylan?” Austin questions from our bedroom,
her
bedroom now.

My mind races as I look back to my dream girl. I’d failed to notice the man’s button down shirt that drapes over her body, too big for her frame.
Austin’s shirt.
She didn’t even bother buttoning most of the buttons, just enough to get by to answer the door. Her hair is loose, not styled, messy even. Gorgeous.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Dylan?” Austin questions as he approaches. “What are you doing here?”

I’m reeling. I can’t think. My eyes meet Jules’, which show her concern over the situation.

I lie for both of our sakes. “Your office said I could find you here,” I reply, acting nonchalant.

Opening the door wider, he looks at me then to her and says, “You should get dressed.”

She goes without another word, but peeks back twice while walking into the bedroom.

“Come in,” he offers. “I apologize for my appearance. We weren’t expecting company.”

We
. He fucking said ‘We.’

I hate him. I hate him for being where I should be right now. My home.

“Something to drink?” He’s not shy standing there in his boxers like he doesn’t give a damn that he’s fucking with my life.

I reply, “Yes,” because I want to prolong my time here as much as possible, not quite sure why I want to torture myself. He goes into the kitchen as I look around the place, catching a glimpse of Jules through the crack of the bedroom door.

“Beer?” he calls from the kitchen.

“Yes, that’s good.”

I stare, not able to take my eyes off of her naked form. It may be just a sliver of a view, a mere peek, but it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. My body tightens… until Austin draws my attention back to him and then I’m instantly soft
.

“Here you go,” he says, handing me a bottle. “I’ll go get dressed then we can talk.” He looks at me suspiciously before disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door harder than necessary.

The apartment is cold in contrast to how I remember it when we lived here together. There’s no life, no love living here now. It’s not representative of Juliette at all. Maybe it is of Jules these days though.

“Austin,” her voice catches my attention as she walks into the living room. “I’d like a glass of wine if you don’t mind.”

Excuses to get us alone. I read right through it. Austin nods, acquiescing to her request so easily. I hate him for being so good. Does he have any faults at all?

Through gritted teeth, she whisper-yells at me, “What are you doing here?”

Truth. “I wanted to see you.”

“What are you going to tell Austin?” Her eyebrows are pinched together, not seeming to grasp my needs at all.

“I don’t know.”

“You better figure out fast bec—”

“Here you go, Jules.” Austin’s back and hands her a glass of wine. He’s having a beer.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling at him.

I start talking, hoping to find some semblance of an acceptable excuse. My job is on the line as well as my future time with Jules if I don’t. “I found an investment I think you should jump on. A little company out of Los Angeles, unknown, but solid.”

Austin looks relaxed, but interested. “And this couldn’t wait until Monday?”

Jules sits down on the couch as he stands eye-to-eye questioning me.

Feeling like I can pull this off, I continue, “I called your office to see if you wanted to grab a beer. I know you mentioned leaving town soon and wanted to present this opportunity before you leave.”

“Wait. What?” She asks, looking at him. “When are you leaving?”

A knock on the door saves him momentarily. “That’s probably the food,” he says, “I’ll get it.”

Her face falls as she turns to look out the window. With the glass to her lips, she tilts her head back and takes a long drink. As if she needs to explain, she says, “He travels a lot.”

The travel seems to have become an issue between them, an irritation, and a tidbit I pocket for later. She walks to the window and I follow. The prisms, both of them, that I gave her dangle from the top of the sill, catching the light.

I tap them just as she whispers, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” I ask. I know why, but I need her to say it.

Her glare is answer enough but she follows it up with words anyway. “You’ve crossed a line. I don’t understand why but I can assume—”

“Hey honey,” Austin says, shutting the door behind him. He walks into the kitchen and sets the bag on the counter, then returns. “I’m gonna go down to the pub around the corner and grab a beer with Dylan. Is that alright?”

Now she turns her glare at him. “That’s fine,” she replies though her tone is anything but fine. One last glance at me, then she goes into the kitchen and starts taking the food out of the bag. “I’ll just eat and watch a movie.”

Like a peeping Tom, I watch as he comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissing her neck. I should look away, but I don’t, needing the reminder that he’s the enemy.

“You sure?” he asks.

She shrugs out from under his grasp and moves away. “Just go. You know where I’ll be.”

“Don’t be mad.”

She doesn’t respond but I can tell she’s struggling to hold her tongue.

Austin comes back into the living room. “So you got time to grab a beer or two?”

Jules follows him into the living room, wine still in hand, but freshly topped off.

“Yeah, I’ve got time.”
This should be interesting.

An evil look is sent my way and I smirk. No matter how much it pisses her off, I need to do this. Jacqueline and her scheme to befriend her comes to mind. Is that what I’m doing? Am I using him to get information on her?
Hell yes.
There’s no denying it. I gulp down the distaste that’s formed in my mouth and head for the door.

Austin’s using me to get out of an argument over a travel issue, so she can’t be mad at me this time.

“Bye, Jules,” I say, “good to see you again.”

“Yeah, okay.” She turns her back and heads for the kitchen again.

“Bye hon,” Austin adds.

No response. Shit, he’s in trouble.

“Let’s go.” As we walk down the stairs, he says, “She’s pissed. I’m giving her time to cool down.”

“Yeah, she’s very passionate.”

He stops and looks back at me, narrowing his eyes for a second before carrying on. “I hadn’t told her I was leaving in a week. I’ll be gone for another three weeks. Asia.”