Page 93 of Burning Daylight
Now the gasps are audible.
“Twenty-three years ago, I made a mistake.”
The word hits me like a battering ram, hollowing out my chest and scattering the pieces to my stomach.
“I’m not a perfect man,” he continues. “And the truth is I fell in love despite being married. There were consequences to that mistake, ones that I regret.”
More eyes flicker toward me, a few camera lenses turning my way.
Regret.
Consequences.
He’s talking about me, of course. I’m the consequence of his actions, his biggest regret. He speaks as though he’s still ashamed, as though he’d give anything to go back and make it so I didn’t exist at all.
You’d think after all this time, I’d be numb to the sharp sting of his words.
“But out of our lowest points can come our greatest accomplishments, and after years of not being able to reach him—of being in the dark, thinking he was gone forever—I’m happy to say that sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. Especially now that my only son is home. Roman Montgomery.”
I don’t have time to focus on the lies he spins, explaining the fake deaths, before I’m being ushered to the podium to stand next to him.
Something unsettling hits me heavy in the gut, but I stiffen my spine. If I don’t do this, Brooklynn won’t be taken care of.
And they need me, even if it means I have to become the spitting image of the devil.
23
ROMAN
There’s not a lot that truly shakes me.
Not too many moments I can remember where I’m so nervous that I can’t sit still.
Thisfeeling: this can’t-eat, can’t-sleep, can’t-breathe type of nervousness whipping its way through my system is entirely brand new, but it’s all I’ve been feeling since the second I saw Juliette again in Rosebrook Falls. Since she agreed to meet me here at our spot.
Is it weird to think of something asourswhen it’s only the second time we’ve been here together?
I got to the secluded cliff in Verona County Park shortly after I was done with that farce of a show for the reporters, where I acted like I want to be there.
My mother texted immediately after it was over. No doubt she was watching the live stream.
Ma:
You were great. I’m proud of you.
My stomach twists, because I think it might be the first time in years that she’s said those words.
Juliette didn’t tell me what time to meet her here, so I’ve been sitting at this picnic table like a pussy, hoping she actually shows.
The sun sank about an hour ago, slipping beneath the horizon and giving way to the moon. I’ve been sketching the entire time. Nothing specific, just random doodles to keep my hands moving and my mind occupied.
There’s a scatter of vibrant stars, and a few dim trail lamps, one of them casting a soft glow behind the old picnic table where I’m sitting.
I sigh, crack my neck, and drop my pencil onto my black book. Then I stand, stretching out the stiffness in my back before walking to the rock—therock—where I first saw Juliette.
Sitting on the edge, I call Brooklynn while I wait. Partly because I miss her, but mostly to distract myself from the dread seeping in, wondering if Juliette’s going to show at all.
Brooklynn doesn’t pick up, but she’s probably just avoiding me, so I call her again.
