Page 4 of Beauty Of Her

“You need to find a guy who will fuck your brains out.”

I nearly choked on my dry scone. “Okay, enough said. Breakfast is over.”

“What? Why?” Amelia’s innocent hands begged for me to stop. “Look at you. You’re hot, Julia. Don’t let that prick, Peter, make you feel anything less. Seriously, when was the last time you had sex? Do you know how many men in New York would kill to have you for a night?” A killer red fingernail pointed right at my chest.

As much as I hated hearing the truth, I understood her point. Unfortunately, I failed to follow her advice.

“I don’t like having sex with people I don’t care about. Don’t try to make me someone I’m not.” Like you, I wanted to add but bit my tongue last second. I chucked the rest of my breakfast into the garbage, collapsed into the white swivel chair, and gazed into the parking lot from the panoramic window. The lot was filled against a crystal-clear sky. We had moved offices about a year ago from Manhattan to Long Island, and I had never been happier. As much as I loved the city and its energy, commuting daily as a full-time single parent was taxing. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just sometimes everything in me threatens to explode.”

“I know what it’s like.” Amelia frowned her perfect thick lips. “I remember when I divorced Anthony; I thought I’d never feel normal. But then, I decided to open a door I was scared of. And I never looked back. It really changed everything for me. I’m saying that when you’re ready, try to open that door.”

“It’s been four years now. Each day, I feel like it’s getting harder. When I start to date, I can’t just think about what I want and need. I need to consider the girls, too. My standards have completely changed because of Zoe and Sara.” My nails dug into my palms, threatening to break the skin. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

Amelia moved her chair closer to mine and put her arm around my shoulders. “No, Julia. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s normal to feel like you do. I just want to see you happy.”

I leaned into her embrace. “I know,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

Amelia smoothed my hair with a calming hand like she always had for months after my marriage crumbled. We had been through so much as friends, and she was the epitome of what a best friend embodied. She just had an insane sexual appetite and wasn’t afraid to show it, especially after her divorce. Sometimes, I envied Amelia’s confidence and strength.

“Maybe you need something different,” Amelia suggested, her voice low. “Someone who can bring you out of your shell and make you feel alive again.”

“I just feel like such a fool still.” I pulled away from her embrace. “How could I not know Peter was gay? I mean, there were some signs, but nothing obvious.”

“Peter has always been the master of playing the part at the moment. What he did to you at the end, though, was inexcusable. Trying to pin his unhappiness on you when it was him who wasn’t honest.”

“He was dishonest.” I nodded.

“So fucking dishonest,” Amelia shrieked, throwing her head back. She popped around my desk, throwing out her garbage. “The divorce wasn’t your fault.”

“Am I crazy that I feel bad for Peter?” I dropped my forehead into my hands. My emotions when it came to this man sent me into a spiral.

“Yes. Yes, you are.” Amelia crossed her arms. “I bet there isn’t a bone in his body that feels bad how he lied to you and had an affair with Joel. Who he treats better than he ever did you.”

I blinked away, fatigued. I never quite shook from the divorce and gazed at my beautiful friend. “I don’t know. I guess I need to stop feeling bad for him.”

“Yes, you do. And you know why?” Amelia resumed sitting, crossing her toned legs. “Because you were the one who ultimately got hurt. You weren’t prepared for what he did to you. That is why I don’t feel bad for him. You’re still struggling. Peter is not.”

“You’re right.” I fought a sudden chill. One I often had whenever a piece of my heart extended for Peter. “So, how much is today’s therapy session?”

“Honey, you don’t even want to know. You can’t afford me.” Amelia winked.

Just then, my computer chimed, telling me it was time for our breakfast to end. “There it is. Today’s meeting is at eleven.” I shooed Amelia. “Okay, we need to get back to work before people think we’re involved.” My fingers took over and clacked away on the keyboard, responding to the dozens of emails in my inbox.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Amelia stood, smoothing her black blazer with gold studded buttons. “What’s for dinner tonight? I need some ideas. I’m supposed to cook for Jim.”

“Oh, Jim?” I raised an eyebrow. “Things are getting serious?”

“No, not really. Eating out is expensive and…” Amelia trailed off. “You know how the date always ends.” She shrugged. “Might as well make it convenient.”

I laughed. “Oh, you know where I’ve been wanting to try? That Italian gourmet supermarket. Everyone raves about it.”

“Stelvio’s? They’ve been here the last few years. Everyone loves it there. I even go.” Amelia walked to the door, resting her hand on the knob.

“Well, the girls are kind of picky eaters. They either want pasta or cheese melted onto a plate.” I snorted. “Kids are so weird sometimes.” But I loved my daughters. They were life.

“Try Stelvio’s. Go after work, you’ll have time. And from what I’ve heard, the owner’s wife is the sweetest person and knows a lot of people, if you know what I mean.” Amelia did a wink, wink.

My face dropped. Could we not talk about my lack of male attention for once?

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