Spilling my truth feels like drowning in a mountain of sand. It’s painful and gritty, words flowing from my mouth like bits of stone, leaving lacerations and bleeding wounds behind.
I thought the truth was supposed to set you free? So why do I feel like I only dug my grave faster and even deeper than before?
Roman stares at me with a blank gaze, eyes without emotion, as he rocks back and forth on his heels.
I stare at the rapid pulse beating in his throat, focusing on the throbbing thump as I try to get my breathing under control.
I can't stand here and stare at his statuesque form. So, spinning on my heel, I walk with heavy steps back to the gate, wanting this night and ruined date to be over.
Suddenly, the endless void of space above me seems so much more inviting than before. To disappear into its nothingness seems like the ending I deserve.
I can hear Roman’s feet crunching on the crisp, gritty beach, stopping in front of me to prevent me from mounting the gate.
With an exhausted sigh, Roman pulls me into his body, wrapping his arms around my back, pressing my quivering chest into his hard body.
I don’t feel like being held, so I tear myself out of his embrace and cross my arms over me, providing my own warmth against the wind.
“I didn’t think of it that way, so I’m sorry, angel. But—” he pauses, cutting himself off by ruffling the ends of his hair as he scratches the back of his head, face tilted toward the heavens with apprehension written all over his expression, “they deserve to be caught for what they’ve done. To get away with all the shit they put you through would have been too fucking kind.”
“Who the hell are you to say that, Roman! It’s my pain! Shouldn’t I be the one who decides who knows it or not?!” I ask loudly, not caring if my voice carries with the wind.
“Yes! Yes, you should have been, but it’s done now! They’re dead, and that article is out, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it now! Accept it! Maybe this will give you some form of justice!”
“Why?” I question back, unable to trample down my cynicism. “Why would this ever bring me justice? Did the world knowing you killed your brother bring you justice? Did their death do you any good?”
“I’m free, aren’t I!?” he shouts, challenging me to own up to the misery of my own making.
Tearing my hands through my hair, I storm the beach, scraping my nails over my scalp to keep my rising anger contained.
“Are you!? Cause the cops aren’t looking for you, right?!” I counter, never having felt so angry at him.
How could he not understand?! How does Roman not see that having the world know what was done to me isn’t going to make everything better!? The paranoia and psychosis I’m experiencing will only amplify. I will wonder for the rest of my life if my neighbors are staring at me because they’re friendly or because theyknow.
“I’m not fucking worried about them, Amira! It’s been three goddamn months, and they are no closer to catching me than they were before! I have everything I fucking wanted, and I’m fucking thrilled! So why can’t you be?!”
Who is this man I’m glaring at through watery eyes? Because I know the Roman that I love so dearly, who claims to love me back, isn’t this insensitive asshole before me.
Why is he doing this to me?
Letting my walls turn into skyscrapers, I ignore his question and go at him harder, spitting venom where I know it’ll hurt because I'm so fucking tired of feeling like the only victim.
“So, you’re good? You have everything you wanted, and you’re fucking free, right? That’s what you’re saying. So tell me, you never think of Liam and all the time you spent together? You don’t miss him? And what about Tommy? You never think of Tommy? Huh, is he dead to you, too?”
My bravery wavers in and out as I catch the vein in his temple throbbing erratically. The stiffening of his stature and clenching of his fists by his sides cause me to take a step back, crashing against the gate I didn’t realize was so close behind me.
His steps are slow.
Measured.
Predatory, caging me against the chained fence as his arms come to entrap me on both sides.
I can smell the mint of his breath and see the rage in his eyes as he lowers his face to brush over mine. The tip of his nose teasing mine before snarling in my face.
“They’re buried in the fucking ground, forever going to be eaten by the maggots weaving in and out of their skin. They’re fuckingdead,and the only one who ever mattered was you. So don’t ever fucking bring them up to meagain.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ROMAN
