Why does he look so menacing this morning? Maybe this is a dream, a throwback to the early stage of our relationship.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My gaze refocuses on the mobile. It’s mine. Not his.
“Good morning.” I struggle to push myself up a bit. “You’re up early. Did I miss a call?”
“When were you going to tell me?”
The tapping stops, but my gaze remains on my mobile. No question is a better hook than that. I can’t afford to take the bait. He will have to be more—very—specific before I offer any sort of answer. If my world is going to implode, I’m not going to be the one to light the fuse.
My eyes make their way to his. I say nothing.
“Nellie Moore.”
Strike.
A constant rhythm of blinks. That’s all I give him.
“You have pages from some diary or journal of hers on your phone.”
Flame.
I nod slowly, just once.
“She killed my mother.”
Implosion.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He draws in a slow breath, holds it, then releases it, nostrils flared, jaw firm, every visible muscle constricted to the point his whole body shakes. “When…” his voice trembles like it’s taking everything he has not to rip something—or someone—apart “…were you going to tell me?”
“Never.” I don’t think it’s possible to shatter a person’s world without scarring your soul.
I brush my thumbs along his cheeks. “Daniel, I won’t be responsible for your missed opportunity. Do this for me. It’s my dying wish.”
“Jesus Christ, Scarlet…” his voice breaks “…I’m not leaving you to die alone.”
“If you don’t leave… I will.”
Theo throws my mobile against the wall. The pieces of it clink on the wood floor. I know how it feels.
“Lie to me, Scarlet.” He towers over me, chest heaving, teeth bared. “But don’t fucking tell me that you werenevergoing to tell me this!”
If he read every page of her journal, he’d know Nellie killed his mum. But no where in the journal does she disclose the actual affair. It was just afeelingI had when I read it. I have no idea what to say. This isn’t us—we are no longer a lie.
“Say something!” he roars.
I wince. The ache in my heart is not a metaphor. It’s real, tangible, and all-consuming. “Nothing I can say will bring back your parents. Nothing I can say will make what happened okay. Nothing I can say will change the facts.”
“The facts? THE FACTS?!”
I swallow past my fear, which is hard with him inching closer to me, hands clenched, body vibrating with so much anger.
“Please, enlighten me.”
I’m not sure he really means it. But since he said it, I’m going to do what I seem to do best: shatter worlds.
