Neither did Jules, for that matter, and it took every ounce of his restraint to keep from yelling that out.
“June is my favorite,” Peggy said, glancing from him to Julie.
Gavin felt Julie’s gaze, but he couldn’t look back. Any other year they’d roll their eyes together, but he was too afraid that this time, he’d discover she was suddenly on the same page as their mothers.
How could he get through the rest of this evening without hurting anyone? While two and a half hours didn’t seem very long, moments ago, it’d be an eternity if they were going to hurl hints as subtle as bricks at his head.
Peggy nudged Ed, and he lifted his head, appearing as if he’d awoken from the food coma he’d experience later. “Huh? Oh, I mean, yes. June is a great time of year.” He lifted his fork to his mouth, but Peggy arched her eyebrows, indicating he wasn’t quite finished with his part of their scheme. “Right before training camp starts up, too. Isn’t that right Gavin?”
He stared evenly, neither confirming nor denying.
Ed crinkled his forehead, glanced at his wife, and then continued, “A good time for family to visit and for us to gather together to celebrate again.”
Grams O’Neill brought a hand to her chest. “Weddings are the best celebration of all.”
Beside him, Julie blew out a heavy breath, and he dared a peek. The exasperation in her features indicated she was over the topic as well. “The jig is up,” she said. “Pretty sure we’ve established that.”
“We’re just excited is all,” Peggy said.
“And grandkids keep parents healthier and younger, don’t you know,” Mom chimed in.
“That’s it.” His chair legs squealed against the tile as he pushed away from the table and stood to address everyone. “Jules and I are goddamn adults who can make our own decisions, and you can’t push us into something neither of us wants. We only had sex the one time, and it’s gonna be the one and only at that. If not because we don’t live in the same state and have busy lives of our own, just so we don’t have to deal with this constant overstepping. Last night was a lapse in judgment, so cut it with the hints of marriage and grandchildren already. It’s never, ever gonna happen.”
Julie stood up so quickly, her chair tipped over. Good. Now she could echo his words and they could end this for once and for all.
Only instead of turning toward their meddling family, she tossed her napkin on the table and turned to face him. “Lapse in judgment? Ouch.”
Hearing the phrase from her acted like a mirror that showed him how harsh it’d sounded. Panic bound his lungs, his attempt at taking control of the situation slipping from his fingers. “Shit, Jules, that’s not what I meant.”
He reached for her, but she jerked away from him. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I heard you loud and clear, even as you were doing the exact thing they’ve been doing, assuming they know what’s best for me and what I want without bothering to ask.”
Wait. Did that mean…?
Julie turned from him to address the rest of the family. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to…” Her voice cracked on the last word and tears brimmed in her eyes. Then, without finishing the sentence, she stormed out of the dining room.
“Jules, hold up.” He rushed after her, swearing at how fast being upset made her, but he managed to snag her wrist halfway through her sprint across the living room. Right in front of the Christmas tree, with its cheery ornaments and blinking lights, so at odds with the current mood. “I’m sorry, okay?”
She spun to face him, and at the sight of her giant tears, a sharp pain pierced him square in the chest.
“I’m not trying to be a dick here, but I did ask,” he argued. “Last night I asked if you were sure, and I thought you understood that meant it was gonna be a one-night thing—seize the moment, as you said. I told you I can’t deal with a relationship now, much less a long-distance one.”
“Well, I was sure, but I’m also allowed to change my mind. And silly me, I thought that maybe, now that we know how amazing we are together, you might change yours. I even had a whole plan to figure out how we could try to make it work.”
Fuck, fuck, and double fuck. He should’ve known she was in too vulnerable a place to go from sex buddies back to just buddies. The blood pumping through his body turned into shards that sliced from the inside out and robbed him of breath.
Still, he had to be honest—it wouldn’t do either of them any good to provide false hope. “Well, I didn’t, and I’m not gonna. I meant what I said. I just can’t. Not right now.”
More tears spilled down her cheeks, and he felt so damn helpless, he was certain his muscles had been rendered useless. Finally he forced one heavy arm to move, choosing his right, since he deserved the twinge in his shoulder. He wiped at her tears with his thumb and whispered her name like a prayer.
“Please don’t, Gavin. It’s only making it worse.” She pulled away from him, her face crumpling. With that, she turned on her heel and charged out the front door.
The slam reverberated through the room.
Then there was no noise at all.
He swung his attention to the archway leading into the dining room—for what, he wasn’t sure, as he’d just told his entire family he didn’t want their help or interference.
There they sat, heaping plates of food in front of them, several mouths hanging open in shock and disappointment.
Glaring at him like the jerk he’d ended up being.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fun fact: tears don’t freeze to your face at twenty-two degrees, even if you cry a whole river of them.
Thanks, saltwater and skin that stayed warm enough to keep the stream flowing and flowing. Despite not freezing, they certainly didn’t make a person any warmer.
Julie would know.
Just like she now realized that storming out of the house in a dramatic fashion without a coat wasn’t the wisest decision she’d ever made. In some ways, the slap of cold and stream of saltwater justified her devastated mood.
Perhaps all the trees felt the same, their branches stark and bare. Did they miss the leaves each and every time they fell? In the spring, new leaves would form, and life would go on. Birds would return to chirp away, and grass and flowers would cover the ground the goddamn snow currently blanketed.
In theory, the same applied to Julie when it came to healing and changing and going through that whole renewal thing. But with her rib cage caving in on her lungs and grinding her already crushed heart into mush, it certainly didn’t feel that way.
Admittedly, she’d been irritated by all the wedding talk, too.