Page 57 of Fish out of Water
I used to hate that word. Worked hard to prove it didn’t apply to me.
But I hated it less when it was Julia saying it.
She glanced around my living room. “But this doesn’t really look like the kind of room where you could really enjoy watching it.” The side of her nose curled up at the sofa and loveseat I paid out the ass for. “Did you pick out this furniture?”
“What do you think?” I hated wondering what most people thought of me. If they saw what I wanted them to see.
Or if they saw past it.
But I was genuinely interested in what Julia thought.
What she saw.
“This looks like something one of my neighbors would pick out.” Julia went to the couch cut in tight lines with a sharply tailored style. She shoved down on the cushions. “Yeah. This is definitely something they would buy.”
“You’re close.” I moved toward where she was still poking at my furniture, pulled along by a desire I didn’t want to place. “My mother and grandmother helped me pick them out.”
Julia nodded. “I mean, they’ll hold up forever.”
“That’s exactly what my grandmother said.”
She pushed down on the cushion again. “Rocks don’t break down.”
“I thought you were a tree doctor.”
She grinned. “I know a few rock doctors.” Her finger came my way. “It’s why I know a nerd when I see one.”
“You say nerd like it’s not a bad thing.”
She scoffed. “That’s because it’s not.”
“You think that because no one’s ever called you one.”
She went quiet, her demeanor changing almost instantly. She went back to Amidala’s aquarium and rested the tips of her fingers against the glass. “Maybe not nerd, but just about anything else you could think of.”
The string of desire dragged me with her, reeling me in more with every second that passed. “Like what?”
I wanted to know. Needed to hear what people called this woman who was so fucking vibrant that sometimes it almost hurt to look at her.
One of Julia’s fingers gently tapped on the glass between her and what I tried to think of as an artifact.
A symbol of a past that would never be again.
But it was harder to put behind me than I thought.
“It doesn’t really matter what they called me.” She straightened. “Not anymore.”
“Doesn’t it?” It was more than difficult for me to imagine.
It was impossible.
But Julia held firm, shaking her head at me. “No.”
“Why not?” I needed the secret she had. To know how Julia was able to let it go.
Move forward.
“Because they weren’t wrong.”
