Page 61 of Taking The Virgin

But they’re watching me closely, no doubt realizing that Owen and I parted on bad terms. He ditched me. Maybe they even heard our argument outside and it was the one thing that rattled their brains enough to make them admit that they’ve got problems. Maybe that’s even compounded by the fact that they’re about to lose their belovedhome.

Suddenly, Mrs. Gregory sobs, and her husband draws her against him. At her sorrow, I give in to my tears also. I wish I could go over to hug them, but I can’t with the smell and the dirt and the garbage.

I just can’t.

“He’s really gone?” Mrs. Gregory manages to ask through her tears.

I bite down on my lip and nod, sadness wrackingme.

My god, he’s reallygone.

I blow out a breath, then say, “He can’t do anything for you if you can’t help yourselves.”

They merely stare at me. Even Mr. Gregory has tears in hiseyes.

I continue. “He told me that you’re about to be evicted. Is that what you really want? You’re about to lose this house!”

Both of them shake their heads, and that’s when I really, truly see what’s been buried beneath their facades this entire time—shame. An embarrassment that they’ve been hiding maybe for years.

They do know something’s wrong, but it’s difficult for them to admitit.

They remind me of their son—the one I let go outside, the man who probably thinks that I don’t care as much about his problems as much as the issues his parentshave.

I motion around the house. “If you want Owen to ever come back, then you have to do something about it. You have to show him that you know there’s an issue.”

“And that’ll bring him back?” Mrs. Gregorysays.

I don’t know what to say. I can’t make any promises.

Mrs. Gregory angles her head, her expression soft. “He left you, too, didn’the?”

Don’t cry, Juliet. Do notcry.

Inod.

“Out on the porch,” she says, “I saw how he looked at you. He’s never looked at anyone like that. And for him to leave you behind withus...”

Mr. Gregory picks up where his wife leaves off. “He really couldn’t bring himself to stay thistime.”

No one says anything else, so I shakily take my phone out of my pocket and bring up a search window, typing in the words junk removal, then showing them the screen. Mr. and Mrs. Gregory look back at me, defeated.

All we can do, I think as pain constricts in my chest, is clean up the messes we’ve allmade.

And, in spite of myself, all I can do is keep hoping that Owen will drive right back to this house, saying he was wrong and that he can’t go on withoutme.

But he neverdoes.

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