Perfectly Adequate(81)

For Roman. Anything for him.

Mom and my sisters have smirks on their faces, like I got away with something, and they’re dying to know the details. The details? Ha! That’s easy.

I poured my heart out to Dorothy and she rejected me.

The apple pie was good.

And from the way it sounded, her orgasm was too.

That pretty much sums up the previous evening.

“I’m starving,” I say, instead of explaining my absence.

“Yes! Let’s eat.” Mom herds the gang into the kitchen until I’m left alone in the living room with Julie.

“How was the park?” I ask.

“He had fun. Wet the bed, probably from too much water. I already have it cleaned up.”

“Thanks.”

She nods.

“Are you going to avoid looking at me all day?”

She lifts her gaze, wearing a forced smile, a mask that does little to hide her anger or disappointment. I can’t tell which one. “Good morning, Elijah.”

Hurt. She’s hurt.

Julie has no right to be angry. I know this, and I can tell by the somber expression on her face that she knows it too. But heartache is immune to reason. That, I know all too well.

“Good morning.”

She clears her throat. “How is Dorothy?”

An instant smile comes to my face, in spite of the immediate pain. “She’s good.”

Julie presses her lips together and nods. “That’s good.” Her words carry no bitterness.

The women in my life have a knack for being their most amazing selves when I really need them to show me their dark side. Their anger. Their jealousy and selfishness.

“She thinks I should try to put my family back together—for Roman.”

Julie’s gaze snaps up to meet mine as her lips part. “Wh …” She shakes her head like she can’t believe what I said. “Well, what do you think?”

I glance over Julie’s shoulder to my family gathered around the kitchen island, filling their plates with food, filling the room with laughter, and filling my heart with memories and reminders of the life I’ve wanted for so long.

“I think life is pretty fucking complicated.”

She blinks several times and slides her hands into the front pockets of her faded jeans before tipping her chin toward her chest. “It is,” she murmurs.

“It’s painful to have everything you ever thought you wanted, yet feel like it’s not quite right. Like something’s missing.” I ease onto the sofa, leaning the crutches against the arm of it.

Julie grunts a laugh, keeping her gaze pointed at her feet.

“Of course you know exactly how I feel. Except you haven’t experienced it from the other side of the equation—the lonely side.”

She glances up, eyes wide. “The lonely side? Oh, Elijah, you are so very wrong. There is no feeling of loneliness that’s greater than feeling like nobody understands you. The desolate hell of needing something that makes no sense to the rest of the world. Of realizing that, if you find the courage to choose yourself, you will be alone. Free … but so very alone.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Because I—”

“No,” she interrupts with complete conviction in her voice. “I want you, Eli. Not your pity. Not your sympathy. I just don’t want you to think that the confusion, the depression, the feeling like I wanted to crawl out of my skin … out of my life … was some fantastic walk in the park for me. And I’m not blaming anyone but myself, 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?”