Page 158 of Masters of Secrets

Call number eleven started ringing while Camille brewed a second pot of tea for the girls’ night movie marathon. They’d already had dinner, not that Julie had had much appetite between everything she’d eaten at her parents that afternoon, then how things had been left between her and Connor.

Freddy had taken one look at Julie when she and Camille had come in the door and immediately made himself scarce, so it was just the two of them, which she appreciated.

“Are you ever going to answer that?” Camille asked as Julie’s phone continued to ring.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Julie answered, though she did tap the button to turn the ringing to silent. She could not deal with her mom right now. Even though putting her off was probably just going to make things worse in the long run.

She was self-aware enough to know this was a desperate attempt to regain control in one of the few ways she currently could, but at the same time, she didn’t care enough to try to stop herself. Besides, if she had to listen to her mom spout off about how amazing Connor was and how dare Julie treat him like that, she was literally going to explode.

“It’s not Connor calling, is it?” Camille asked, her tone totally devoid of judgment.

“No, it’s my mom.” Connor hadn’t called. Which was good. She appreciated being given the space, even as she worried about how he was doing. But she couldn’t talk to him when she was still so raw, still sorting through her feelings… there was too much of a chance she’d end up blowing up all over him. And she didn’t think he deserved that.

Granted, she felt pretty righteous in some of her anger, but when she talked to him, she wanted to be able to do just that—talk. Not explode. Some of her anger was also at her parents, she realized, and he didn’t deserve to take the brunt of that anger, too.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Camille asked.

Julie shook her head.

“Okay,” Camille said, putting a mug down on the coffee table in front of Julie. The scent of chamomile and honey wafted through the air. “Wanna watch another movie?”

“Yes, please.”

Settling down on the couch next to her, Camille picked up the remote and hit the next movie on the comfort movie list, The Princess Bride. A classic.

She was so thankful for Camille, who knew what Julie needed and gave it to her without pushing. She needed time and space. She needed to decompress. And then she needed to think.

It was probably why Connor’s pushing had set her off so badly. John had never given her time to think. She had almost forgotten about that. Everything always had to be resolved ‘immediately,’ and he would push and push and push at her and demand that she talk it out right then. But when she did that, they only ever touched on surface stuff, not the underlying issue, because she hadn’t been given a chance to figure out what was really wrong.

Then, once she did, a few days later and tried to bring it up again, John would accuse her of bringing up ‘old shit.’ Of trying to start a fight about something they’d resolved. Then he’d accuse her of gaslighting him when she insisted they needed to discuss what the real problem was or even of flat-out lying because she ‘hadn’t brought that up when they talked about it.’

The fact she hadn’t because it hadn’t occurred to her until later—after she’d had time to think—didn’t matter to him.

God, no wonder she’d blown up at Connor tonight. While she did think he shouldn’t have pushed her after she’d explicitly asked him not to, after she’d requested the space, she could see that some of her reaction—specifically the desire to call Camille and get out of there as soon as possible—wasn’t necessarily all about him. Which was something she wouldn’t have been able to recognize in the moment when emotions were high.

She was only able to put the dots together now because she’d had time to settle, time to start turning things over in her mind and examining the interaction from every angle. Whether or not Connor would understand that better than John…

If he doesn’t, he’s not the right guy for me.

As much as it hurt to think about that. Despite her anger, despite how frustrated she’d been, deep down, she knew she didn’t want it to end. She might not trust her judgment when it came to men anymore, but her emotions had still gotten entangled. She’d started falling for him. Harder and faster than she could have believed.

The urge to call him and go to him and cuddle up in his arms and just tell herself it was no big deal was high. But how many times had she done that with John?

What would she tell a client if they came in and told her the story of today?

She would tell them that they needed to figure out what they wanted. She would tell them that problems couldn’t be brushed under the rug; they needed to be faced. She would tell them that they needed to have a conversation and see what their partner said, how they reacted, and make decisions from there.

Then she would say, ‘Now let’s talk through what’s going on with your parents.’

Yeah, she was going to need to call her therapist this week. Connor meeting her family had brought up a lot more issues than just her past romantic relationship baggage. Even with John showing up, there was something that was still bugging her about Connor and her family, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Connor

It had been a long night with no call from Julie. No text. Though he’d gotten a few from his friends, wondering how meeting her family had gone, he didn’t answer. How could he? He thought it had gone really well… right up until it hadn’t.

He’d called out sick from work.

His energy batteries didn’t just need recharging. He was pretty sure they needed to be replaced. If things hadn’t ended the way they had yesterday, he would have been able to go in. He would have made himself go in. But after a night of not sleeping on top of all the socializing… well, he just couldn’t face it. Especially since Sandra would be there.