Playing It Safe(84)

“No puedo creer que hayas hecho esto. ?Es increíble!”

“I don’t know what Lisette just said,” Sarah says quietly, “but I have to agree.”

“But you just said you have no idea what she said,” I answer back defensively.

“I mean everything she said before that.” Sarah leans forward and takes my hands in hers. “Julia, you did a terrible thing, but it does not make you a terrible person.”

“Ha! Didn’t you hear what I said to him last night? I swear, I’m going straight to hell in a handbag.”

“No you’re not,” she says with a small smile. “This can all be fixed.”


I go to say something back, but Lisette speaks up again. “She’s right.”

My eyebrows shoot up at her agreeing with what Sarah said.

“He loves you, and you love him,” Lisette says simply and crosses herself. “This can definitely be fixed.”

My head tilts to the side as I wipe the tears from my eyes. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Sarah and Lisette both look at each other and then back at me. They both start to shake with laughter, biting their lips to keep it in until they both explode.

“What’s so funny?”

“You,” they answer in unison.

“What did I say that was so funny?”

“When did you become a Hallmark card?” Lisette asks through the last of her laughing fit.

Sarah adds, “Yeah, this is most definitely fixable.”

“I’m so glad that I can be the source of your entertainment today, but I’m not finding this funny at all. Sooo, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to feeling sorry for myself and maybe eat a f*ck-ton of white chocolate chip and macadamia nut ice cream.”

I stand up and go to the door to open it for them. They follow me and whisper amongst themselves when they get outside.

“Go on and eat your ice cream,” Lisette says over her shoulder at me while walking to her car. “We’ll take it from here, don’t you worry.”

They climb into their cars and drive off, finally leaving me alone to try to make sense of what just happened. I plop down onto the couch still wearing my clothes from last night and expel a long-ass sigh.

Seriously, could my life get any more confusing or dramatic? I’ve turned into my own worst nightmare—a telenovela on one of those cheesy Spanish stations that I sometimes watch, even though I don’t understand most of what’s being said.

As a matter of fact, that might be what would go perfectly with a pint of ice cream.

I walk over to the kitchen and pull the emergency pint out of the freezer and then turn on the TV. Searching through my stored episodes on the DVR, I find Corazón Indomable and start the first of many episodes while I eat ice cream using a giant spoon. It won’t make the pain go away, but it will at least make me forget for a little while, and that’s all I need right now.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

You tend to do really stupid things when you’re down in the dumps. Not showering would probably be high on that list. It is for me at least. Eating lots of ice cream is another. Inventing a drinking game while watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey is yet another. This one was surprisingly easy, with the majority of tequila shots happening when any of the housewives looked at jewelry, talked about jewelry, or tried jewelry on. I had to stop playing since I was getting hammered twenty minutes into the second episode.

Another really stupid thing I’ve done is ignore Sabrina’s calls and texts all weekend. I cannot bring myself to talk to her yet. I know she’ll be full of sage advice and soothing words of comfort and all the other good stuff that comes along with being my best friend. But for right now, I want to wallow in my despair just a little while longer.

Alex still hasn’t called or texted me. Not that I expected him to.

There was a very small part of me that was hanging on to the crazy idea that he’d show up here as if nothing had ever happened. Well here it is, Sunday night, and nothing, not a peep. Just me and my jar of peanut butter, which I’ve been eating with my fingers while watching the 700 Club for the last hour because I’m too lazy to change the channel.

I’m in the midst of trying to figure out what is going on with Pat Robertson’s hair when my house phone rings again. I glance over at it thinking that it’s Sabrina again, but it’s not. It’s Aiden.

I can’t explain why I reach over and answer. You might as well ask me why the sky is blue. I would probably have a more logical answer for that one. Because I know that I shouldn’t be talking to him at all. Even though what he told me about Alex and Marisa was partially true, I think, I do realize that any further discussion with him has bad written all over it. But being the complete jackass that I am and a glutton for punishment, I pick up the phone.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer the phone.”

“That makes two of us,” I answer.

After a brief silence he says, “Listen, I heard what happened.”

“How did—”

“Sophia.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I reply with a sarcastic laugh. “Your fiancée.”

“I’m really sorry, Julia.”