Page 51 of Sweet Somethings

Nine

Roman thought about Juliette all day long. He kept putting her out of his head and then she'd pop back in again. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had been on his mind so much. But this woman was the wrong woman.

Juliette was amazing, but she would want so much more from a man than he could give her, and he wouldn't be good for her. She was sweetness and light, and he was not. He'd just drag her into the darkness with him, and that was the last thing he wanted. She'd had a rough childhood—losing her parents, being ripped out of her home. But she'd rebounded, and she was making a life for herself—a good life. He didn't want to get in the way of that.

Nor did he honestly believe he could ever be part of the kind of life she wanted. It was one thing to hang out in Fairhope for a while, help his grandfather, but it wasn't a long-term move, just an interim stop on the way to somewhere else. He just didn't know where that somewhere else was, but he doubted it would be this town—a place filled with people who didn't think much of him and probably never would.

As his thoughts ran dark, he got up and flipped on some lights. It was after five and the sun was sinking low in the sky. He was about to head into the kitchen when he heard the front door open and a male voice call out.

He left the downstairs bedroom and walked into the hall as Doug stepped into the entry. "What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you." Doug shut the door behind him.

"I can't imagine why."

"Yes, you can," Doug said, giving him a pointed look. "We need to get a few things straight, Roman. Juliette brought up the fire to me last night. Why are you talking about that with her? Why are you drumming up the past? I would think it's the last thing you'd want to discuss."

"Juliette asked me about the fire after hearing about it from Martha Grayson."

"Why don't you just admit you did it? Take responsibility and move on."

"Because I didn't do it, and I don't confess to things I didn't do."

"You're lying, Roman."

"I'm not. If someone needs to confess, look in the mirror."

"I didn't start the fire."

"Looks like we're still going around in circles." He paused. "Look, I get why you couldn't confess back then, Doug. Your dad was the police chief. Your mom was head of the PTA. You were their golden boy, their pride and joy. Knowing you weren't perfect, that you could be as stupid and reckless as anyone, would have ruined them. I almost couldn't blame you for putting the blame on me. I'm sure you felt you had a lot more to lose than I did, and I suspect Travis felt the same. But that doesn't excuse either of you from putting a knife in my back."

Doug stared at him like he was out of his mind. "What are you talking about? I didn't put the blame on you. I told my dad I didn't know what happened."

"Sure you did," he said.

"That's the truth. If anyone put the blame on you, it was Travis."

"It was both of you. You were a team. You'd been best friends since childhood. I was the easiest one to blame. Admit it."

"That's not the way it went down, Roman. My dad told me that you said Travis and I did it, and you weren't even in the park that night."

He stared at Doug, wondering if it was possible the chief had lied to each of them about what the other said. "Whatever. I don't actually care anymore."

"Well, I'm starting to care again, because I can't have that old mystery haunting my campaign for mayor."

He shrugged. "I don't know what you're going to do about it. You can't keep people from talking. You certainly can't stop Martha from spreading rumors."

"How long are you here for?"

"I haven't decided."

"But you're not planning to stay, right? You always said this town was too small for you."

"I'll leave when I'm ready to leave."

"Look, Roman, we've both grown up. We're men now, not stupid boys. I'm sure you've changed, and so have I. I don’t want us to be trapped by the past."

"Then let's end this conversation."

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