This Girl (Slammed #3)(30)

“What I’m trying to say is . . . this is in your hands, Will. I know she’s not strong enough to deny her heart what it wants, so I need you to promise me that you will. You’ve got more at stake here than she does. This isn’t a fairy tale. This is reality. If you two end up following your hearts and not your heads, it’ll end in disaster.”

I shift on the couch and attempt to think of a way to respond. Julia is obviously the type of person who can see through bullshit, so I know I need to be up front with her.

“I like her, Julia. And in some odd way, I care about her. I know I’ve only known her for a little over a week now, but . . . I do. I care about her. And that’s exactly why you don’t have anything to worry about. I want nothing more than to help Layken get past this—whatever it is she’s feeling. I know the only way to do that is to keep our relationship strictly professional from now on. And I promise you, I will.”

I hear the words coming from my mouth, and I would like to admit that I’m being one hundred percent honest with her. But if I’m being one hundred percent honest with myself, I know I’m not that strong. Which is why I have to keep my distance.

Julia rests her elbow against the back of the couch and lays her head on it. “You’re a good person, Will. I hope one day she’ll be lucky enough to find someone half as good as you. I just don’t want her finding it yet, you know? And definitely not under these circumstances.”

I nod. “I don’t want that for her right now, either,” I say quietly. And that response is for certain the truth. If there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that I don’t want to burden Lake with all of my responsibilities. She’s young and, unlike me, she still has a chance at an untainted future. I don’t want to be the one to take that from her.

Julia leans back into the couch and looks at the picture of my parents again. I watch her while she stares at it. I can see now where Lake gets that distant gaze. I wonder if they were ever despondent before Lake’s father passed away, or if it’s a natural reaction after someone close to you dies. It makes me wonder if maybe I’m just as despondent when I think about my own parents.

Julia’s hand goes up to her cheek and she wipes at newly formed tears in her eyes. I don’t know why she’s crying, but I instantly feel her sadness. It exudes from her.

“What was it like for you?” she whispers, still staring at the picture.

I face forward again and look at their picture. “What was what like?” I ask. “Their death?”

She nods, but doesn’t look at me. I lean back and fold my arms across my chest, resting my head against the back of the couch again. “It was . . .” I realize I’ve never talked to anyone about what it was like for me. Other than the slam I’ve performed about their death, I’ve never spoken about it to a single person. “It was as if every single nightmare I’ve ever had throughout my entire life became reality in that single instant.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and clamps her hand over her mouth, quickly turning away.

“Julia?”

She’s unable to control her tears now. I scoot closer to her on the couch and put my arm around her and pull her to me. I know she isn’t crying because of what I said. She’s crying because of something else entirely. There’s something bigger going on here than just me and Lake. Something much bigger. I pull back and look at her.

“Julia, tell me,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

She pulls away and stands up, heading toward the door. “I need to go,” she says through her tears. She walks out the front door before I have a chance to stop her. When I make it outside, she’s standing on my patio crying uncontrollably. I walk over to her, unsure of what to do. Unsure if I’m in the position to do anything, even if I wanted to.

“Look, Julia. Whatever this is, you need to talk about it. You don’t have to tell me, but you need to talk about it. Do you want me to go get Layken?”

She darts her eyes up to mine. “No!” she says. “Don’t. I don’t want her to see me upset like this.”

I place my hands on her shoulders. “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

She breaks her gaze from mine, indicating I’ve hit the nail on the head. She’s not okay. She steps away from me and wipes her tears away with her shirt. She inhales a few deep breaths, attempting to stop more tears from flowing.

“I’m not ready for them to know, Will. Not yet,” she whispers. She hugs herself tightly and glances at her house. “I just want them to have a chance to settle in. They’ve been through so much already this year. I can’t tell them yet. It’ll break their souls.”

She doesn’t come out and say it, but I can hear it in her voice. She’s sick.

I wrap my arms around her and hug her. I hug her for what she’s going through, for what she’s been through. I hug her for Lake, I hug her for Kel, and I hug her for Caulder and myself. I hug her because it’s all I know to do.

“I won’t say anything. I promise.” I don’t even know how to begin to put myself in her shoes in order to empathize. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for her. To know that both of your children are possibly going to be left in the world without you? At least my parents didn’t know what was about to happen to them before it happened. At least they didn’t have to carry around the burden that Julia is carrying.