Page 130 of Never Not Friends

And I don’t freaking know what to do.

Juliet’s hand goes to my neck, massaging the back of it. “You’re quiet.”

“Sorry.” I shake my head, pulling in front of her house and parking the car.

“You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have invited your dad tonight.” She climbs out of the car and shuts her door. “It’ll be better tomorrow. More people there.”

A heavy sigh slips out as I walk around to her.

I feel like an absolute jerk.

Juliet doesn’t deserve this.

My mom was right. She deserves honesty.

I grab her hand. “Will you go for a walk with me?”

“Now?” Her brows jump. “Don’t you want me to get my beauty sleep the night before our wedding?”

I tug her forward. “Just once around the cul-de-sac.”

“Is everything okay?” She must finally sense my sadness.

“I don’t know if it is.”

Her footsteps slow to a stop, like she can’t walk and listen at the same time.

I face her, feeling the steady rhythm of dread in each heartbeat. “I think we might be making a mistake.”

“Vinny!” she groans as her head falls into her hands. “I knew you were going to say that.”

I peel her fingers back so she can look me in the eyes. “Jules, you said yourself at dinner the other night that you wondered if we just got together and stayed together not because it was right but because it was the easy thing to do.”

Her head shakes. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that. I should’ve known it would freak you out and send you into a tailspin.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Really? Because it looks like a night-before-our-wedding freak-out. Or like seeing your dad again is making you panic.”

“It’s more than that.” She turns like she means to walk away, but I grab her shoulders, holding her there. “I’ve wondered those same things too about our relationship. A lot of times, actually.”

“So?” She throws her arms out.

“So don’t you think if we’re both questioning things, we should probably take it more seriously? Really stop and think about if getting married is the right thing to do?”

“Do you love me?”

“Jules.” I sigh.

“What? It’s a valid question.” She looks me dead in the eyes. “Do you love me?”

Yeah, I love her.

But I can’t help but wonder if I were marrying Emma tomorrow, would I have this same sick feeling in my stomach?

I don’t think I would.

And that’s a terrifying thought because Emma is hypothetical.