Page 30 of Mostly My Girlfriend
6
One monthapart
Jules,
Well, I can see the guilt tactic I tried with my last letter hasn’t worked. My mother is very upset with you… Okay, fair enough, that’s not true. She’s actually really upset with me.
For being indecisive.
Because I have to tell you the truth. Part of me wants to come home now. Part of me wants to show up at your apartment in Seattle and tell you that I’m ready to start a new life with you.
The part that holds me back is fear. Always afraid of what losing myself to you means.
God, are you even reading these letters? Do you know the battles I’m fighting? For you, for us.
It will be Christmas in a few weeks. I suppose you’ll be spending it with your mom and brothers. Will you miss me then? Because Christmas has kind of been our thing.
I suppose we’ll see. Give them my love.
I’m sorry. Please write back,
Ethan
* * *
Seven years ago
Seattle
Ethan
“We’re going to miss the flight,” Julia said in that sing-songy voice she used when she was being smug.
“Stop doing that,” I said as I scanned the résumé in front me. “We’re not going to miss the flight. I have a car waiting for us downstairs.”
“It’s raining and traffic on the 5 is going to be a mess. You know what I think? I think you want to miss the flight, so we don’t have to go to your parents’ for Christmas.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I lied. This was the first time I would be seeing them since last Thanksgiving. Jules had made me go by myself that time and it had been difficult, but not impossible.
This year, however, her family was going to be spending the holiday with Robbie’s fiancée’s family, so I’d talked her into coming home with me instead.
My parents loved her and the conversation, I knew, would just flow easier with Jules there to run interference. That didn’t mean I wasn’t procrastinating a little. My parents had come to terms with me leaving. But I didn’t think they’d forgiven me yet.
Also, I still didn’t think they understood why leaving had been necessary. Which meant I hadn’t entirely forgiven them yet, either.
The door to the conference room opened and Daniel popped his head in. “You guys ready for Lauren?”
“Yes,” I said. “Show her in.”
“This is ridiculous,” Jules muttered. “I don’t need an assistant. I’m completely in control of my day.”
“You mean your workday, which is almost fifteen hours long? That’s unsustainable. You need someone who can shoulder some of your burdens so you can have a life.”
We sat at the conference table and smiled together as Daniel escorted the next candidate in.
“Lauren,” I said, standing to shake her hand.
“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe it. You’re Ethan Moss,” she squeaked. “You’re on the cover ofTime.”
