God, it meant everything!

“You don’t understand,” I try to explain. “I’m a mess! I’m crazy, and damaged, and f**ked up,” I sob, “and I’ve been so busy hiding it from you…” I trail off. This is impossible, how can I explain what the hell’s going on in my messed up mind when I don’t even know for myself?

Daniel comes over and puts his arms around me. “It’s OK,” he says, soothing. He strokes my hair gently. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ll figure this out together. Nothing has to change.”

“But it does!” I pull away. He’s not listening to me! I take a ragged breath and try to find the words to make him understand. “I just… I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Daniel freezes. “You mean, us?”

I swallow back a sob. He’s looking at me so nervously, like I could take away everything in a heartbeat. And I can.

“I… yes. No. I don’t know!” I cry, throwing my hands up. “I wish it was that simple, but it’s not.”

Daniel looks at me. “Do you love me?” he asks quietly.

“Yes!” I swear. “But, I don’t know if you’d love me anymore if you knew, if you knew everything.”

“So tell me.” He grabs my hands. “Help me work this out.”

I look into his brown eyes, wishing like hell that I could. If I could just tell Daniel everything, all my dark, broken secrets, and have him say it’s all OK anyway, maybe we could go back to the way things used to be…

But I know that’s impossible. There’s no going back now. And even here, with Daniel breaking apart in front of me, I realize: I don’t want it to.

I don’t want to pretend anymore.

I don’t want to think of what might have been.

I can’t build a future on half-truths and denial.

Daniel lets go of my hands. He sees it, he has to, because something in his expression deflates.

“Do you love him?” he demands.

I shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. I did, once.”

“And now?”

“Now, I just don’t know.” I catch my breath, admitting it to myself for the first time. “Maybe?”

That’s the thing, I just don’t know yet. Maybe what I feel for Emerson is just desire, or maybe it’s more. But I can’t ignore it, not if I’m going to figure out where the hell I’m going to go from here.

“So what do you want?” Daniel’s voice is harsh. Hurt. I flinch away, but I know it’s no less than I deserve.

“I don’t know,” I say again. Useless. “Some time. To figure this out.”

“A break.”

“I… yes.” I swallow back a sob, staring at him plaintively. “I’m sorry, Daniel, you have to believe, I never meant to hurt you.”

He shakes his head. He’s angry, I can tell. Hurt and betrayed. But he holds it back. Even now, he doesn’t raise his voice, just asks. “How long do you need?”

“I don’t know.” It’s all I’m saying right now, over and over, but it’s the truth. I have nothing else to give him, but he deserves that, at least.

“But you’re going back there, to him?” Daniel’s eyes flash accusingly.

I nod, shameful. “I have to,” I beg, wishing he would understand even knowing I have no right to expect it. “I have to see, try and figure this out.”

“But I can be good to you.” Daniel’s voice breaks with emotion, and I feel a sharp stab of pain at his distress. I did this to him. He doesn’t deserve any of it, but I’m hurting him all the same. “I know you’re confused, and hurting,” he begs me, “but Juliet, we’re good. We fit. We can make a life together.”

I can’t hold the sobs back any longer. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, swiping angrily at the tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I can’t be the girl you love. I just.. I need to figure out who I am!”

I turn and hurry away. The apartment door slams behind me, and then I’m running down his stairs, crying for real this time. I barely see where I’m going, and I trip on the bottom step, sprawling hard against the floor. Pain shoots through my knee, the one I hurt just a couple of days ago, and for a moment, I just sit there and let the tears take over. Aching, wrenching sobs, full of regret and self-loathing.

And worst of all, relief.

Because now I’ve told Daniel the truth, I don’t have to be crippled by guilt every time Emerson’s face comes into my mind. Which is like every other heartbeat.

He’s there now, watching me with those inscrutable eyes as I get to my feet and flee the building, out into the busy street. I blindly wave for a cab, not caring about the people passing by, or what they must think of my messy weeping breakdown.

How can it be that my heart feels like it’s breaking, and mending at the same time? How can I hate myself for hurting the man I love, but feel freer, all at once? Even as the guilt overwhelms me, remembering the crushed confusion on Daniel’s face, I feel it deep down in my gut: certainty. I’ve done the right thing here, and while it may not feel like it now, we’ll both be better off because of it.

I can only pray he’ll forgive me one day, I hope. If he ever stops hating me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Juliet? What the hell happened to you?”

Lacey’s voice wakes me up the next morning. I lift my head and slowly open my eyes. Daylight comes flooding in from the living room windows, and I shrink back from the glare.