Chapter 18 - Something Fast

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"Julianne, you look flushed, honey. Have some iced tea your momma made." My dad chose tonight to pay extra attention to the details of my being. Tonight of all nights.

I heard a soft chuckling behind me, devilish and polished, and as always, deliberate. "She does, doesn't she?" Then Emmett brought his hand casually to my cheek, "She's warm too. What's the matter, Jules?"

"Nothing," I said, mustering a fake, perfect smile for my dad to see.

I turned around and fetched the pitcher of iced tea from inside the refrigerator. It was lemon peach, which I liked, so I served myself a nice tall glass and walked eagerly away from the two men.

A book seemed like a good idea right now, but I also wanted to talk to my mother and have her show me the pictures from their vacation. I was headed toward her bedroom when I knocked into Jesse.

"How was it?" I asked.

"Sunny. Beachy. Not really my thing. If I wanted beaches I'd head for the east coast, twenty minute drive. But it was fun, seriously."

I laughed at him. "Not much my style either. But you need to see a little bit of everything."

"I guess," he shrugged, and began to walk past me to where Emmett and my dad had been talking.

It took me two minutes to find her, and as she talked to me about the trip, and showed me the hundreds of pictures she'd taken on her phone, I felt a wave of nerves as I waited for what I knew was inevitably coming. She would ask me why he was here, or rather, she would tell me why she assumed that he was here. And she would pester me incessantly until I said something that satisfied her, or until I was stammering in speech because of my own emotions.

I readied myself for the blow.

"So, enough about the vacations, since you didn't even want to go," she murmured, eyeing me accusingly. "I see Emmett is out there."

"Mhm," I verified.

"And he brought you home, meaning that you were together before, in your spare time."

"Yes, that would be correct. Are you finished showing off your deduction skills, mother?" I asked, arching my brows at her with a smirk over my lips.

"Not quite," she chirped. "Still need to pester you about the fact that Emmett is here for you, because of you, and has, if my mother senses are telling me correctly, been after you."

"When you put it that way, it makes me sound like prey."

She whacked my hand at this, a show of just how thin her patience ran. "Stop being funny. It doesn't suit you. Can you please stop?"

"Alright, I'll stop. No more funny."

Her face changed into one of utter, complete frustration. "I didn't mean that. I meant, Julie, that you have to stop fighting." Her tone of voice had changed for the worse, turning soft with a worry I did not need. I did not need for her to be nurturing, or for my dad to be attentive. I needed for them to pretend as if nothing was different, because in my head it was the only way to stay safe from all the changes.

I felt the need to take her hand and squeeze it assuringly, smiling at her with plastered ease. "I'm not fighting anything, Mom. I don't know what you're talking about, or how you could possibly think I've been 'fighting' if you've been away. Just take a breath and be happy to be home, and rest assured that everything is fine and hasn't changed in the slightest. Emmett just came to drop me off."

She shook her head. "You're fighting him. I can see it in the way he looks at you, as if he's scared you'll suddenly vanish. And the same feeling is hiding in your own eyes. Dark as they may seem, they're made out of glass. Just for once in your life- and you don't have to tell me if you do, just take my advice and I'll be content- let yourself feel," she paused. "I know he hurt you before, but that was ages ago, and things were different for the both of you."

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