26
Juliette
Fully exfoliated, shaved, and trimmed, and with deep conditioner soaking in my hair, I dropped my chin to my chest and let the hot water beat over my back. Shit. I didn’t have time for that. I rinsed my hair, shut off the water, and rushed out, drying and lotioning quickly. Then I did my hair, scrunching in a little extra of the curl cream Dylan liked the scent of. A quick touch of blush, eye shadow, and lip gloss, then I dressed in shorts and a black off-the-shoulder top, nice but casual, and I was ready to meet Dylan at the station.
I’d found a garage sale advertising old firefighter gear, and I couldn’t wait to surprise him by taking him there. It had been a crazy few weeks of Dylan being over-the-top protective, but now that some time had gone by without hearing from Kayla, he was almost back to his usual level of protectiveness. He’d been so worried about me, so good to me—even more than usual—and I was beyond excited that I found something that he’d love.
I rushed around, sliding on my shoes and grabbing my stuff, and I was running out the door only about ten minutes late. Not terrible, but I still felt bad making Dylan wait for me. His shift had already been long enough. As I waited for the elevator, I pulled out my phone to text him that I was on my way. Shit. I’d missed a bunch of his calls and texts. I hurried to call back.
“Hey, I’m leaving now. I’ll be there soon. Sorry,” I rushed out as soon as he answered.
“No, Juls. Don’t leave. I’ll come over to your place instead.”
I couldn’t read his voice, but it wasn’t happy. My heart started to race. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just don’t want you to come here, and I don’t want to go out. I’ll be there soon.”
My heart was racing full speed now. “Did something happen?” Was it Kayla again?
“No, I just don’t want to have to worry about you. It’ll be easier for me to come over. Stay home and wait for me.”
A million memories rushed in. A million times I’d heard words like that from other people. I’d never heard it from Dylan before, though, and I hated it.Don’t worry about it; I’ll do it for you. It’ll be easier for me to do it instead. Easier, quicker, safer, better.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to talk as slowly and strongly as I could. “I’m ready to go. I-I have something planned. Something for us to do.”
“Juls, please. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” What else could I say? I wasn’t going to beg.
“Thanks baby, love you.” His words were nice, but his tone was hard.
“Love you too.” I hung up before the last word was out of my mouth. Hopefully before he heard the catch in my voice.
I knew I was overreacting. His job was unpredictable and emotional. Anything could have happened in the hours sincewe’d last talked. Maybe Kayla had texted or called him again. But I couldn’t help it. This was my emotional baggage. I was well aware of it, and I usually accepted it. But it felt so much worse that it was Dylan making me feel this way. I tolerated it from most people, even expected it from my mom. But not him.
Stop acting like a crazy person. He must have a reason. He’d tell me when he got here, and it would be okay. Maybe we’d even still have time to go to the garage sale.
I tried to shake it off and clean up the mess I’d left in the wake of rushing to get ready. I straightened up and I washed the dishes and tried to talk some sense into myself. Something had to have happened, right? It wasn’t about me being late. Or messy. Or that I’d get hurt or lost or do something stupid on my way to him, even though it was likely, given that I was both rushing and excited and—Fuck.
Fucking shit, that hurt. I gaped at the opening the knife had gouged into the pad of my thumb. This was why I shouldn’t handle a knife when I was distracted and upset. Maybe Dylan was right. I held it under the water, tears pricking my eyes at the sting as the white, open edges of my skin slowly pinkened and darkened, the blood finally gushing out.
Dammit. Dylan was knocking on my door. Of all days for someone to let him into the building. The timing couldn’t be worse. I wrapped my thumb in a huge wad of paper towels and held it in my fist, trying to ignore how bad it hurt.
I fumbled to open the door with my left hand. “Hey, Dylan,” I said with a smile, my hand behind my back.
I don’t even know why I did that. To see him first before he got distracted worrying about me? To ask why he’d changed the plans? To know why he’d sounded so off on the phone? To kiss him hello and make sure everything was still okay between us? Whatever the reason, it was the wrong thing to do.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth pulling down.
I pushed my smile bigger, but I felt it tremble. “Nothing.”
“Juliette,” he growled. “What the fuck are you hiding? Why are you lying to me?”
What the hell? I pulled my hand out to show him, too upset by his reaction to even try to hide how bad it hurt. I don’t know what hurt more, my thumb or the way he was talking to me. The sight of the blood-soaked paper towels made it all a hundred times worse.
“Fuck, Juls.” He grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me to the kitchen.
“It’s okay. It’s not as bad as it looks.”