Page 1 of Mostly My Girlfriend
1
One weekapart
Jules,
I get it. You’re not speaking to me. Not even through letters. Okay, I admit it: I fucked up. I should have stayed, and we should have talked about it…
I ran. Like a coward. So do that. Write me back and call me a coward and at least we can talk about that. But shutting me out is killing me.
Please write back.
Also know that Mom is here with me now. I pushed and pushed and finally she relented. I’m not sure if it’s me or just the challenge of being in another country, but at least she’s engaged in the world.
But the sadness, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed before.
When I work through this, I’ll figure out what to do with her, but the bottom line is I can’t leave her behind in New York. Wherever I go,wherever we go, she’ll need to come with us.
I just need some time to get my head straight. Is that too much to ask?
Ethan
* * *
A few hours after therapy
Julia
I’ve been in love with Julia for a very long time…
The words echoed in my ears and I tilted the bottle of wine back to take a slug. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to make me drunk enough to forget what happened today.
He didn’t love me. He couldn’t love me. He left me.
He fucked me the first time and didn’t remember. He fucked me the second time and pretended like it didn’t change anything between us.
The third time… I couldn’t think about that night. I couldn’t think about it without crying and I didn’t want to cry anymore. Instead, I wanted to get drunk and forget everything that had happened today.
There was a knock on my door. The building had a doorman—one of the few in Seattle—which meant it could only be Ethan. What had been the point of running away from him if he was just going to follow me?
You wanted him to follow you.
Ugh! More honesty. I was tired of it.
“Jules, you know I have a key,” he called through the door.
Of course he had a key. He was my closest friend. He was my emergency contact. He was my…
I pushed myself off the couch hugging my large bottle of wine to my chest. I considered what I’ told him, how I would be willing to put us back together the way we were, and now I wondered if that was even possible.
I leaned on the door with one hand, took another slug of wine with the other. It was strange because, even though I was drinking from the bottle, removing its contents one gulp at a time, it still felt like it was getting heavier.
“Go away, Ethan.”
“You know I’m not going to do that.”
“I did what you asked. You said one hour and that’s what I gave you.”
“Fine. Then we’re done. Let me come inside and say goodbye.”
