“After I dropped you home, I paid those twins a visit. I got shot and went to prison for two and a half years.”
I stare at him, mouth ajar. There’s no humor on his face, nothing to suggest he’s lying. “But… I tried calling you the next day?” are the only words I manage to form.
“I was in the hospital for a long time.”
“I… And…” I shake my head, my labored breaths making it harder to think. “This place?”
“I had a lot of time to plan what to do.”
Everything should be clear, but I don’t understand any of it, like I’m looking through a window on a cloudy day. “You never got in touch.”
“I sent you letters, but Marcus hid them, the fucker.”
“You never forgot about me,” I whisper.
“I could never leave you. There is no me without you.”
I keep waiting for the punchline or the joke, but it never comes. “You never called.”
“You changed your number.”
“You had a lawyer.” They—or the police—could have told me.
“I didn’t want to get you involved during the investigation.”
I gawk at him. “So it was better that I was kept in the dark?”
“You never looked or tried to find me.” It’s his turn to make the accusations.
“I didn’t think you’d be inprison!” I all but scream. “I checked your house, your work, everywhere! Your bike was nowhere to be seen—I thought you rode off without me.”
“I wasn’tjustin prison, actually.” He shrugs. “I was in the hospital.”
What he said earlier finally sinks in. “You got shot,” I echo, staring at the patched hole in the wall in front of me.
“Mmhmm. In the chest.” I snap my attention back to him, and he has the audacity to look smug about it.
“You could have died?” I don’t know why I can’t string together more than a few words. He can’t be telling the truth, can he?
He nods, looking even prouder of himself. “They thought I wasn’t going to make it, but the thought of leaving you alone pulled me through.”
No.
This is a lie; he’s a liar.
He could have done so much to make sure I was okay. I spent days thinking he was dead, crying and suffocating under the weight of my guilt for being so angry at him.
Wait… the twins were away from school for a couple days after Roman disappeared. They looked worse for wear when they came back, but I didn’t think anything about it.
Two and a half years for assaulting—wait, would they have been minors? That can’t be the whole time.
My eyes widen. “Did you break out of prison?” I hiss under my breath as if someone might hear.
Throwing his arm over the back of the chair, he grins. “I got out early on good behavior.”
Bullshit. “You don’t know the meaning of that word.”
“I had good incentive.” Out of nowhere, under the dim light, his face hardens. “You left me too. Don’t forget that.”
