The End of Beginning

Things at the bookstore had finally started to settle. The burst pipe had been a disaster, but now that the week had passed, the place had regained its rhythm. Foot traffic was steady, orders were coming in again, and Julia felt like she could finally breathe.

Joe, on the other hand, was still in Montana—two more weeks of filming to go. Communication between them had slowed again as the production ramped up. Long days on set meant short, scattered texts, and the rare phone call usually came when he was half-asleep.

Julia tried not to take it personally. But it was hard not to feel the space between them growing wider.

Luckily, Chloe had been spending more time at the shop. After months of helping out here and there, Julia had officially hired her as the store's full-time marketing manager. Chloe had a knack for it and knew how to draw people in—online and off.

They spent the afternoon arranging a new display near the front window, chatting as they worked.

"So," Chloe said, balancing a stack of poetry collections. "Now that I'm officially employed, do I get an office or should I just keep stealing yours?"

Julia smirked. "If by 'office,' you mean my swivel chair in the break room? I think we both know you're gonna keep stealing it either way."

Chloe grinned. "True. Also, is it weird that I'm kind of thriving in this job? Like, I might actually be good at it."

"You are good at it," Julia said, giving her a look. "I should've made it official ages ago."

Chloe beamed and nudged her shoulder. "Look at us. Business women."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came from being around each other for years. Julia found herself grateful for Chloe's presence—not just because of the help, but because Chloe had a way of grounding her. Especially when her thoughts drifted to Joe.

Which was often.

Her phone had been quiet all day. She'd texted Joe that morning, just a quick "hope filming's going okay," but hadn't heard anything back. It wasn't unusual lately, but it still left her feeling vaguely hollow.

That night, Julia curled up on the couch with her phone beside her and put something on TV.

It wasn't until almost midnight that her phone buzzed.

JOE VIDEO CALLING...

She sat up instantly, wiping her hands on her sweatpants before answering.

The screen lit up with Joe's flushed face and his familiar, crooked smile. Behind him, the scene was loud—neon lights, clinking glasses, voices raised in laughter.

"Hey, baby," he said, a little too brightly.

Julia blinked. "Are you... drunk?"

Joe ran a hand through his hair, grinning. "Buzzed, maybe. The cast had the night off, so we all went out."

He turned the camera to show a long table packed with people, all mid-celebration. "Say hi to my beautiful girlfriend!" he called out.

There were whoops and playful greetings. Julia laughed, recognizing a few of his co-stars.

Then she spotted Camila—sitting right next to him, laughing at something off-camera, leaning in close.

Julia's stomach twisted, just a little.

Joe must have noticed because he quickly stepped away from the table. "Hold on," he murmured, angling the camera away as he walked outside. The noise faded into the background.

When the screen settled, Joe was standing under a streetlamp, his breath visible in the cold air. His expression softened.

"I miss you, Jules," he said, voice lower, more sincere.

Julia exhaled, pushing away her jealousy. "I miss you too."

Joe smiled lazily, his eyelids heavy. "Wish you were here."

"Me too," she admitted. "You having fun?"

"Yeah," Joe nodded, stuffing his free hand into his jacket pocket. "But I'd rather be with you."

Julia blushed, tucking her knees up to her chest. "Okay, sweet talker. Just make sure you drink some water and get home safely."

Joe grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

They chatted for another minute before Julia insisted he go back inside to enjoy his night.

Not long after, another message lit up her phone.

JOE: A guy with a mohawk just came in. I think I found my next look.

JULIA: Absolutely not.

JOE: What if I made it hot?

JULIA: You can pull off a lot of things, but I don't think a mohawk is one of them.

JOE: Ouch. My own girlfriend doesn't believe in me.

She rolled her eyes, smiling as she pulled her blanket tighter. The texts kept coming, growing more unhinged by the minute.

JOE: Jules. I had a thought.

JOE: What if we had a pet duck?

JULIA: What??

JOE: Like. A little guy. He could live at the bookstore. I'd name him Jerry.

JULIA: Are you drunk texting me about adopting a duck?

JOE: ...maybe.

JULIA: Go to bed.

JOE: Can't. Too busy thinking about Jerry.

She laughed out loud, shaking her head.

Then, at 2 a.m., her phone rang again.

She groggily grabbed it and answered. "Joe?"

"Heyyyy, baby," Joe drawled in a slight southern accent.

Julia sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Are you home?"

Joe hummed in response. "Mmmhmm. In bed. Wish you were in bed with me."

Julia sighed, amused but also a little concerned. "You sound wrecked."

Joe giggled—actually giggled. "Am fine. Just... tipsy."

Julia smiled. "Uh-huh. Sure."

There was a long pause before Joe sighed dramatically.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Julia's brows furrowed. "For what?"

Joe's response was incoherent, something about missing her and hating being away.

Then, suddenly, he started singing. Soft and slurred, but unmistakable.

"I know you... I love you... I want you... I need you... You complete me... I adore you..."

Julia's breath hitched.

Half Life. One of his songs. Her favorite, in fact.

Hearing him sing it now—imperfect, emotional, intimate—made her chest ache.

"Joe," she whispered.

"Mmm?"

"I love you, baby. But you should get some sleep."

"Stay on the phone with me?"

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Of course."

She stayed on the call, listening as his breathing slowed and his voice faded into sleep. Her phone screen dimmed, the soft rise and fall of his breath filling the silence.

Even with the distance, the chaos, the jealousy... she knew, without a doubt, she was completely, hopelessly in love.