Page 97 of If This Was a Movie

THIRTY-EIGHT

NATE

The next day, I called Claire and told her she could have the cottage again if she’s interested. Although she argued for a moment, worried she’d be taking the place from Jules, as soon as I explained to her that it was Jules’s idea and we were good—solid, even—she sighed with relief.

“I can’t stay here for another day,” she said quietly as if our parents were near and might hear. “Mom is hovering over me like I’m about to break, and Dad keeps telling me my shirt shows too much skin. It’s a cropped sweatshirt, Nate! They’re driving me crazy.”

I laughed even though I know it’s all painfully true. This was, after all, why Claire moved out in the first place, considering she was twenty-four and they hadn’t stopped treating her like a baby.

“But I don’t want to move in if it’s going to mess things up with you and Jules. You guys are so cute together, but Sloane told me she’s being a bit stubborn.”

I sighed, battling the urge to tell my sisters to stop fucking gossiping about me.

“She was just a little…nervous, is all. But if I have my way, she’ll be moved in with me and Soph by summertime. So don’tworry, Claire. Just pack your things up. Jules is going to break the news to Sophie in a bit and start packing up. Have Sutton drive you over whenever you’re ready.”

Claire sold off her car before leaving for California, so I know she doesn’t have a way to get around. I add that to my mental list of things to ask around about, to see if anyone has a decent car they’re looking to sell.

“Good luck with that,” Claire grumbled, and she wasn’t wrong.

The next hurdle was telling Sophie, a feat that began a large rash of dramatics, even when we told her her beloved aunt would be moving back into the cottage and Jules would be here multiple days a week. The only thing that seemed to cut through the chaos, of course, is Jules’s promise to come on Christmas morning with presents.

“I don’t want Jules to leave!” Sophie shouts, her eyes glimmering as we give her the news.

“Sophie, sweetie, I promise I’ll be here all the time. We’ll still have girls’ days. You know I was only staying here to help watch you while my place was getting fixed. Now your Aunt Claire is back to watch you, and your daddy fixed my place up!” Jules says.

“But what about my Christmas wish?” she asks, her voice cracking and her eyes watering. “Why isn’t the magic working?” Her lower lip trembles as Jules’s brows furrow.

“What do you mean?”

“The Christmas magic! It’s supposed to make you guys fall in love so you can stay here forever with us.” She’s getting angry now, stomping her foot, and her face is going red with emotion.

My heart breaks for my sweet little girl.

“I know, honey, but—” Jules starts with a sigh.

“It needs to work!”

“Sophie, sweetie,” Jules says, kneeling before her and getting to her eye level and holding her hands. “It worked, Soph. The magic worked. It helped me find your dad, and I care for him so much, really, I do.”

“Then why aren’t you in love and getting married? If this was a movie, you’d be getting married.“

“Because real life isn’t like the movies, sweetie,” she says. Sophie’s face falls, but Jules’s smile gets wide. “It’s better, Soph. It’s better because it’s real, and we get to live it. It’s a movie come true, but it just takes a little longer.” She shrugs and laughs. “A movie is only two hours long.”

“But I have a Christmas present to give you,” she says with a sniffle, no longer angry, which is a win.

“And I’ll be here first thing on Christmas morning. I have to give you the presents I got you.”

“Presents?” Sophie asks, all sadness melting from her face. “Like, two?”

I smile because my girl is so damn funny. She’s sad and mopey, but she hearsmultiple presents, and her entire demeanor changes.

“Five,” Jules whispers conspiratorially, and Sophie's eyes go wide. “You gonna help me pack up?” she asks, changing the subject, to which my daughter nods.

Hours later, when I’m back home after we helped Jules pack up, Claireunpack, dropped Jules off at her place, and then helpedherunpack, I start to make a pile of things Jules left behind.

A sock here, a hair tie there, a shirt in the laundry intertwined with my and Sophie’s things, the way she’s supposed to be. Her perfume on my sheets, her shampoo in my bathroom from a fun shower after the storm.

She’s on every single inch of this house. I can’t escape her.

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