Page 37 of Entirely Yours
Before I head inside, I take one last look at the midnight-black sky full of stars winking in encouragement.
“We’re going to be okay,” I whisper to those stars.
They seem to reply with,Yes, you are.
I have some news…
Mags
What kind of news? fun news? Did you sleep with Tattoo McHottie??
Yes and…
Mags
Omg was it soooo good???
It was and…
Mags
And what Thea? Spit it out!
What can happen when you have sex with someone Magnolia?
*Incomingcall from Mags*
The next several weeks fly by. I still feel the occasional morning sickness, which actually comes at any point in the day, but for the most part I’m just exhausted.
Jules gets an OBGYN suggestion from his mom, and Cole—who seems like she’s forcing her way into my life more and more—confirms that Elaine Bardot is a reliable source. I haven’t met Jules’ parents yet which seems odd because I see his brothers all the time.
Maybe Jules is ashamed of me? Ofus? He doesn’t really act like that is the case, but I’m too nervous to find out the truth, so I just haven’t brought it up.
I know that Guy’s reaction to my pregnancy with Chloe did a number on me, but it’s become even more evident now that I feel like I’m reliving that entire reality four years later. Logically, I know that Jules and Guy are as different as they possibly could be, like comparing apples and oranges, but my body is having trouble remembering that truth.
I tense up every time I get a text or call from Jules, or even when he’s quiet for too long, which is also a distinct possibility with him—that man is the definition of the strong, silent type. I’m learning he prefers to listen and process rather than interject his every thought. It feels as though he’s giving me the space to make my own decisions about everything, which is great, but also… different than what I’m used to.
There was so much I had to prove to Guy. He was my superior in the ballet company, and though he obviously developed a liking toward me, he was always so hot and cold.
If I questioned him in class, he wouldn’t return my calls for a week.
If I was five minutes late to rehearsal, he’d move me to the back row for a number.
If I didn’t pick up on choreography fast enough, he’d makeme practice with him at his home studio until he was satisfied I wouldn’t forget it.
But, damn. When I did get it right?
He’d take me out to dinner and spend the rest of the night lavishing me with praise. Or a new pair of pointe shoes would show up at my apartment. One time, he even had me demonstrate a lift to the rest of the company. I had never felt so important.
Then I would make some minuscule mistake and the cycle would start over again. This continued until I found out I was pregnant with Chloe, which was apparently the ultimate betrayal.
Fuck him.
My phone dings, dragging me out of my spiral.
Jules
Did you get an appointment?
