Page 84 of Someone Just Like You

I blinked back tears and sank into her side, inhaling her floral-fruity Nina Ricci perfume, originally purchased as a gift from her three granddaughters because it shared her name. “You might want to hold your horses on that one.” I told her everything.

“He took my kindness and used it against me, claiming I was boring and incapable of functioning without a plan. I didn’t cheat or cause him bodily harm. All I did was push a bit too hard, and he lost it on me! Not for nothing, but he’s a grown man and some planning for his futureisin order unless he’s truly content in his current situation, which he told me is not the case.” I paused to catch my breath. “Does he think ownership papers and a key to a venue is going to magically show up at his doorstep along with financial capital and a business plan?”

“He’s Jude, so he might.” Her mouth lifted on one side. “This is one of the reasons you two work. You rein him in and he helps loosen you up.”

My stomach tightened. “You think I’m boring too?”

She frowned. “Not at all, bubaleh. I just think sometimes it’s okay to color outside the lines or change colors altogether. I know you think progress is linear, but sometimes the zigzags are not only necessary and healthy but more fun and lead to even better things. There’s nothing wrong with writing to-do lists and having bullet-point plans, but if you fail to leave room for revisions, you’re often hurting yourself. Sometimes you just need to follow your gut and see where it leads. Or just do it and if it doesn’t work out, no harm, no foul.”

You regret the things you don’t do.

She waggled a finger. “It should go without saying, do not follow your gut if it tells you to let the air out of someone’s tires.”

“Tire!” I laughed despite myself. “Maybe heisgood for me in that respect.” Even when we fought, it was fun. “Except there’s no way he would agree I’m good for him the way you seem to think. He said I remind him of his parents—not exactly sexy—and basically told me he can’t stand me again.”

I hadn’t recovered from the sting. Part of me had feared all along that Jude’s attraction to me was temporary. Was it even love on his side? We’d never said the words. Were we back where we’d started? Only this time, rather than mutual hate for each other, one of us—me—had a nasty case of unrequited love?

“Oh, honey.” Nani shook her head, frowning. “I’d bet the pool of my next mahjongg tournament Jude only said that to get under your skin. Unintentionally or not, you tried to push him out of a comfort zone he wasn’t ready to leave which, in his mind, was akin to you not accepting him for who he was. He was hurt and reverted back to old habits, attacking you where he knew it would sting the most.”

“Well, I absolutely accept him for who he already is.” All the adjectives I’d used to describe Jude over the last six months lined up in my head like words on a Scrabble board: evil, shrewd, cocky, protective, caring, bashful, generous, sexy, loving, hurt, back to evil again. But I could forgive that last one. “I think he’s extraordinary, Nani.”

She smiled softly. “I think he feels the same about you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” If she was right, it didn’t have to be over. My skin tingled with hope.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Just then, my phone pinged. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t check my text messages while spending time with Nani, but these weren’t normal circumstances, and it was Jude.

Jude:I’m sorry for the mean things I said. I was out of line.

A cocktail of happiness and relief swirled in my gut. I looked at Nani. “Would you be terribly insulted if I left early? I need to see Jude.”

Nani’s smile split wide open. “What are you waiting for then?”

Chapter Forty

Itook the train back to Manhattan in much better spirits than I’d left it. Now that Jude had expressed remorse for the hurtful things he’d said during our fight, I would apologize again for pushing so hard on the restaurant opening, and we’d be back to our regular fabulously coupled selves.

There was so much to say. I pulled up the notes on my phone and jotted down my bullet points, which turned into…well, I was hesitant to call it “poetry” for fear Emily Dickinson and Maya Angelou would turn over in their graves, but hopefully Jude would appreciate my spontaneous effort to creatively express my feelings.

When I got off the subway at 33rd Street, I began the ten-minute walk to Jude’s apartment. He didn’t usually work on Saturdays, but just in case, I stepped to the side and replied to his text.

Molly:Thx for the apology. I’m sorry too. On my way to your apartment now.

He responded within seconds.

Jude:OK.

I doubled my stride. I couldn’t wait to see him…tokisshim!

The doorman stopped me this time, but it was all good. It was his job to protect Jude in case I was a murderous ex-girlfriend who was stalking him. I was impressed he took this responsibility seriously.Mydoorman often let delivery guys up without calling first, never mind they could be on their way to chop me up into a million pieces and tuck my body parts into empty pizza boxes.

When he gave me the go-ahead, I refrained from saluting him on a job well done and joined the queue for the elevator before stepping inside along with several others.

Jude was waiting by his open door when I arrived a minute later. I studied him across the threshold, letting reality replace what my memory had kept alive since the last time I’d seen him. It had been weeks, not years, but time didnotfly when you missed someone so much it hurt. I took a steadying breath even though I wanted to go full Yogi on him and lunge. “Hi!” He was blurry. My eyes had filled with tears.

An impressively more composed Jude gestured inside. “Come in.”

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