Page 46 of Better Than Gelato (Ciao Bella #1)

Chapter Thirty-Two

I ’m exhausted. I’ve spent the last two weeks studying, making smoothies, and trying to make a long-distance relationship work. Two out of three are going well.

Today is a stormy day, dark skies and a wind that blows the leaves off the trees. All I want to do is curl up and nap. Instead, I finish my classes then put in two hours at the library and four hours at Jamba.

I call Jake on my way home. We don’t talk for long. I tell him what my professor said about my latest photo, and he congratulates me. He tells me about only sleeping five hours last night, and I console him.

“I love you, and I’m sorry you’re not getting any sleep,” I say.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’m sure it’ll get better soon.”

He doesn’t say I love you back, which is not a big deal. It’s not like we say that to each other all the time.

Still, I try to think back to the last time he told me he loved me.

In New York at the airport, for sure. But that was ages ago.

Surely he’s said it more recently. I rack my brain.

Well, just because he doesn’t say he loves me doesn’t mean he’s not thinking it.

He’s probably thinking it right now while he listens to my voice.

“We sliced open a really large cadaver today,” Jake says. “We had to get through a foot of greasy, yellow fat before we could get to the organs.”

Okay, maybe not.

We keep things on the surface these days. We don’t talk for long, and we don’t dive too deep. And maybe that’s weird, or maybe that’s just fine. Relationships adapt, right?

When I get home, Maggie is trying on my blue dress from Carmen in the middle of the living room. It’s the only place in the apartment that has decent lighting.

“And which unsuspecting gentleman are you planning to seduce?” I ask.

“His name is Ben. And I’m going for approachable, not seductive.”

“Then that is not the dress for you.”

Maggie digs through a pile of clothes on the coffee table, and I settle onto the couch and pull out my chemistry book and a fat stack of index cards.

“I’m definitely ready for him to ask me out,” Maggie says.

“Who’s asking you out?” Petey asks, plopping onto the couch next to me.

“Ben, if he knows what’s good for him,” I say.

Pirate comes out of her room, and we all take bets on when Maggie and Ben will have their first date.

Based on the fact that this boy has never spoken to Maggie, Petey and Pirate choose dates three or four weeks from now.

But I, who have seen Maggie’s boy-bewitching magic firsthand, choose this Saturday.

By the time the evening is over, I’ve written out all the formulas for my exam on Friday, and Maggie has put together an outfit that is the perfect combination of seductive and approachable.

The next day, I end up working three extra hours at Jamba Juice.

I was supposed to be out by 6 p.m., but someone called in sick, and Manager Mike asked if I could stay until close.

He also mentioned six-week evaluations coming up and the prospect of a raise.

I know it will only be fifty cents an hour more, but still, I could use it.

I text Jake to let him know.

I have to close the store tonight. I can’t do our 6 p.m. call. So sorry.

It’s okay. Just call me when you get off.

It’ll be after midnight your time.

It’s fine. I’ll probably be up anyway.

My shift goes by fast, and I want to sprint out the door, but I make myself do a thorough job cleaning up. Manager Mike opens tomorrow, and I want him to see how pristine I left everything.

It’s nearly 9:30 by the time I call Jake.

“Hi,” I whisper when he picks up. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. How was your shift?”

“Lost another finger to frostbite, but I still have a few left. How was your day? Didn’t you have rounds with that resident you like?”

“Yeah, it was really great. I got to help intubate someone, which I’ve never done before.”

“That sounds cool.”

“It was.”

And then silence. That’s how it’s been lately. I get so excited when it’s time to talk to Jake and then we run out of things to say pretty quickly.

“Hey, maybe this is too early to start planning,” I say. “But you talked about coming to Lakeport for Thanksgiving. Do you think that’s still a possibility?”

“Thanksgiving? Oh yeah, no. That’s not going to work.” He sounds like he doesn’t even remember suggesting it.

“Okay, no worries. I’ve got three weeks off at Christmas, and I was thinking maybe I could do two at home and then I could catch a flight to Phoenix and spend a week with you.

Phoenix isn’t that far from San Diego. I bet I could get Maggie to come pick me up and bring me back to school. Plus you could meet Maggie.”

I realize slowly that Jake hasn’t said anything the whole time I’ve been talking. Usually he chimes in encouragingly when I have great ideas for us.

“Jake?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“So…what do you think about Christmas?”

“I don’t know...”

He doesn’t know?

I hear the smallest sigh. “Look, um, I’ve got a pretty crazy semester. Why don’t we just see how things play out?”

I don’t know what this is, but this is not my Jake. He does not sound interested in seeing me over Christmas. Or ever.

I don’t know how to respond, but it doesn’t matter because before I can say anything Jake says, “Can I give you a call later? I’ve got to catch some shut eye before lecture tomorrow.”

“Sure, of course.”

And then before I can stop myself, I blurt it out, the thing that has been festering in my brain for too long:

“You never say I love you anymore.”

It’s not a question. But it’s a statement that begs an answer. It’s met with silence. The seconds stretch and I sit there, vulnerable and trembling, like a hermit crab out of its shell.

“Juls,” Jake says. And his voice is so soft and tender, it sounds just like my Jake. Tears spring into my eyes because my body knows what’s about to happen before my brain does.

“We’ve always been really intentional saying that to each other,” he starts. “I only say that when I really feel that way.”

The obvious hangs in the air between us. He doesn’t feel that way.

My legs feel wobbly, and I sink onto the grass.

“So what...what does that mean?”

My brain is working at half speed, but one thing is getting through to me: Jake doesn’t love me anymore. He doesn’t tell me he loves me because he doesn’t love me anymore.

Another tiny sigh. “Listen, let’s not do this tonight.”

My throat feels like it’s closed up. With effort, I push the words out. “It’s already done.”

“Juliet,” he says. “I care about you. It’s just too much. If you were here, it would be different. But…you chose not to come. I’d still like to be friends.”

It takes me a second to realize he’s waiting for some kind of response. What did he just say? He still wants to be friends?

I finally find my voice. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to work.”

“Juliet.” That tender voice again. The one that told me so many magical things. The one that is breaking my heart with each word. “I’ll call you tomorrow. What time do you wake up? I’ll call you first thing.”

“No, Jake.” My heart hurts so bad I can barely open my mouth. But I force myself to say the words. “Don’t call me tomorrow. Or the next day. This is done between us. So let’s be done.”

A pause. Then a tired, “Okay.”

I don’t say “goodbye” because it hurts too bad. Or “talk to you later” because I won’t. I simply hang up.

I take a breath. I take stock. I’m sitting in the grass on the other side of the parking lot from my apartment. Tears are flowing freely down my cheeks and my hands are shaking. Who knew the world could end on an ordinary Wednesday night?

I pick myself up and walk with trembling legs across the parking lot and up the stairs to my apartment. Petey and Pirate are watching a movie, but I angle my face away from them and make it to my bedroom undetected.

Maggie finds me there an hour later, curled up in the fetal position. My face and pillow are soaked with tears and snot.

“Juls, what happened?”

I shake my head. I can’t talk. I can’t say the words out loud.

“Are you okay?”

Another head shake. I’m not okay. I’m wrecked. I had no idea it would be like this. The physical pain in my chest. The feeling of complete annihilation.

She picks up my phone and punches in my password.

“You have three missed calls from Jake,” she says. I don’t respond.

She comes and sits on the bed next to me and strokes my hair.

“How bad is it?” she asks. “Do you think you can work it out?”

I shake my head again. It’s all I seem capable of doing. Everything in me feels numb.

“What happened?” she asks.

I squeeze my eyes tight and then say it. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Maggie says in a soothing voice. “Long distance is just hard.”

My shoulders crumble. “It is true,” I say. “He told me. He told me he doesn’t feel that way anymore.”

And then my body is heaving with sobs. My shoulders are shaking so hard I feel like I’ll shake apart. There will be nothing left of me but pieces.

Maggie rubs my back and says over and over, “I’m so sorry, Juls. I’m so so sorry.”

* * *

The sun rises the next morning, and I don’t even know why.

I don’t get out of bed. I don’t go to classes. Maggie calls Manager Mike and tells him I can’t make my shift. She checks on me between her classes and brings me little plates of crackers that go untouched on the dresser.

Jake calls two more times, but I don’t answer. I block his number. The hours pass slowly and at the same time, unreasonably fast. I’m surprised when I roll over in bed and the sun has set. I hear voices outside my door.

“Maggie said don’t bother her,” Petey says.

“She’s been in there for hours,” Pirate says. “We need to make sure she’s alright.”