Page 31
“Forty-two,” I said, swallowing hard.
“And you are twenty-six.”
“I know. I can do math, Jules. Besides, I could use helpful information, not judgement.”
“Ember, I am not judging, but I do wonder if you’ve thought this through. I mean, there is a difference between reading about a fun age gap in a romance novel and actually living one. Also, he has had a child, lost his wife, and has built an entire life that you are walking right into the middle of.”
She was so right; everything she said was exactly the things I struggled with when I allowed myself to stop and think about them.
“I know. I think about it constantly. He’s lived an entire lifetime with someone else, and my longest relationship ended after four months.”
“Oh, Em, that doesn’t disqualify you. I just wonder if he sees you as an equal or someone he’s managing.”
“He doesn’t manage me. If anything, I manage him. You should have seen him trying to make pancakes this morning. It was a disaster.”
“No, Em, I am serious. You live in his house and he pays your salary. What if you get involved with him and things go sideways between you? You and I both know you need this job, and if things go sideways, you won’t just lose a boyfriend. It’s your income, your housing, and the ability to make sure your mother gets the medication she needs. Have you thought about that?”
Leaves scattered across the porch, and I watched as they zipped around my feet.
“You don’t need to remind me. I have thought about that every single day.”
“And?”
“I’m terrified. When he looks at me, it’s not the way someone would look at their employee. He looks at me as if I am the first thing that has made sense to him in years.”
Jules was quiet for a moment.
“I can already hear it in your voice that this is more than an attraction.”
“No, not on my end of things.”
“What about his?”
“We haven’t really talked about it. He told me the other night he doesn’t want to rush things. He wants to make sure he is doing what is right,” I said, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger.
“Well, that is something. Ember, I want you to promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll protect yourself. I don’t mean only your heart, but your life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ember, you are dealing with someone who has suffered a significant loss. What if you two get involved, and he wakes up one morning and decides the guilt is too much for him to bear, or he wakes up one morning and realizes he isn’t ready for this type of relationship with someone younger? I want to make sure you land on your feet if anything like that were to happen. I don’t want to see you curled up in your bed, wallowing in sorrow, wondering what the hell went wrong and blaming yourself.”
My throat ached. Jules had always been the one to say things I didn’t want to hear. I didn’t know why I thought this time would be any different.
“I promise.”
“Good, now tell me about the pancakes, because it sounds adorable.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I wiped the tears from my eyes. We said goodbye after I had finished telling her the story. I put my phone in my pocket and returned inside; the weight of Jules’ words settled into my chest.
It was early afternoon, and Sophie was sprawled out on the living room floor, watching a marathon of dinosaur documentaries on the Nature Channel while it rained outside. I’d made her a plate of grilled cheese and cut up half an apple that she was snacking on, then took my laptop into the kitchen to get some words down.
My heroin, Rosie, was finally alone with her brooding employer after weeks and weeks of tension. This was one of my most favorite scenes to write, the one where all restraint snapped.
I sat down with a pumpkin spice latte and placed my fingers on the keys. This should be the easiest scent to write since I’d literally been living it. The more I wrote, the more I knew I was writing from my memory.
