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“No—no,” I breathe, my hands trembling, my pulse wild in my ears. “This can’t be real. Jonathon can’t be…”
But he says nothing. His eyes, clouded with grief, lock onto mine, and I know—he’s telling the truth. The world spins violently around me.
Dead?Leo’s father… is dead? Leo’s father is gone, and I never told him. My son will never meet his father.
James has reached inside my chest, grabbed my heart, and set it on fire. I struggle to breathe as my eyes and the tip of my nose burn with tears. But if I start to cry now, I’ll never stop. If I let go and accept his words, the grief will consume me completely.
“When… how?” I manage to ask. The words scrape against my throat, the question forcing itself out despite the terror twisting inside me.
He looks away, his jaw tight, a muscle in his cheek ticking.
“Five years ago. Hit and run in Malta,” he murmurs.
Malta?His voice sounds garbled as if coming from miles away, the distance between us morphing into an unbridgeable chasm.
“What date?” I croak out, shaking. The question hangs in the air, but I’m terrified of the answer.
James hesitates, his eyes flicking back to mine, confusion creasing his brow. “Excuse me?”
“What. Date. Did. He. Die?” I say, forcing each word through clenched teeth, as if speaking them slower will lessen the blow.
His stare sharpens, and for a brief moment, I wonder if he’ll tell me. The silence is unbearable.
“Twenty-sixth of May,” he finally says.
The world stops. My blood turns to ice in my veins; my lungs refuse to take in air. The date ricochets through my mind, making connections I don’t want to acknowledge. The numbers circle like vultures, tearing through the haze until only one fact remains:That was the day after…
A sob rips out of my throat. “That was the day after we slept together,” I whisper.
James recoils as if I’ve struck him, his face paling. His own devastation mirrors mine, but it’s worlds apart. My breath tears out of me in gasps, and the truth—so horrifying, so impossible—crashes over me with brutal force.
The day after.It wasn’t just a coincidence. It wasn’t some random tragedy happening miles away, disconnected from my life.I was there.
Another sob claws its way up my throat, and I press my hand harder over my mouth to stop the flood of grief breaking free. My entire body trembles, the weight of it too much to bear.
I want to scream, but no sound comes out. I’m drowning in the enormity of it all.
James looks away, his face twisted with devastation. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. Maybe he feels it too—what this means. But even if he does, it’s not enough to bridge the canyon between us.
I’m sinking, collapsing under the truth, the guilt, the horror that there’s no going back.
Tears stream freely down my face now, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I need to get out.
Shaky legs carry me out of his office, but I don’t know where I’m going. Each step feels like it might be my last. Everything I’ve done, every lie, every secret, has led to this. My vision blurs, and I stumble into the elevator. My world is collapsing, and I have no one to blame but myself.
By the time I reach my desk, I’m hyperventilating. I must look a mess with snot and tears running down my face.
I don’t care who sees me. I just need to escape.
I quickly drop Nathan’s security pass on his desk, grab my purse, and make a break for the exit. Tears continue to blur my vision, and the world feels like it’s crumbling beneath my feet.
Jonathon is dead.
Leo’s father is gone.
And I’m the one who’ll have to tell him.