But what’s the alternative? My heart aches with confusion. How can I explain it now, after pretending for so long? Would Daniel even love me if he knew the damage I’ve been hiding?
Emerson loved you. The treacherous voice whispers. He didn’t care about the mess and the hurt, and your broken, f**ked-up heart.
But that was before—before mom died, and he decided the mess was too much, and what was left of my heart was totally destroyed. God knows what it looks like now.
Maybe pretending is the best I can hope for anymore.
* * *
I want to sleep at my apartment tonight, alone, but I can’t find a good excuse, so I let Daniel drive us back to his without a word. As soon as we get there, I go lock myself in the bathroom again and run the shower, trying to get all this confusion out of my mind. I feel like a house of cards, teetering in the wind, like one wrong word will send everything tumbling to the ground. I’m guilty over what happened with Emerson, but angry at Daniel too—for putting me through that tonight, without asking, or even warning me what he’d planned.
It’s my own fault, I know. How is he supposed to know just how bad things are with my family when I’ve taken such care to hide it from him? How can he understand how much it hurts me when they just ignore the past when that’s all I’ve been doing with him? But knowing that doesn’t stop the burn in my chest, remembering the way he patted my shoulder to calm me down, and quickly smoothed over the uncomfortable truths I laid bare.
I try to catch my breath. My mind is racing, but I don’t know what to do. Usually, I’d try to keep my anger under wraps and just accept that Daniel thought he was doing a nice thing, because he cares. But now it’s like the last few days in Cedar Cove have brought all my old memories and emotions boiling to the surface, cracking through my hard-won calm. I started today so desperate to forget about Emerson and go back to my warm, simple life with Daniel, but now I see, there’s nothing simple about this lie I’ve been building.
Pretending like the past never happened is a recipe for disaster. If not now, then someday, down the line, the shit is going to hit the fan. But either way, I know, I can’t run from it any more. I can’t hide the parts of myself that scare me – or the bad things I’ve done.
With a surge of adrenalin, I open the bathroom door and step out into the bedroom. Daniel is sprawled on his stomach on the bed, looking at his laptop. He’s in sweats and an old college T-shirt, sleepy and cute, and for a moment, I falter, my words sticking in my throat.
“You coming to bed?” He asks. He closes the computer and gets up. “We can pick up where we left off…” he adds, reaching for me with a suggestive look in his eyes.
His hands slide around my waist, but the feel of his touch on me is the final straw.
“I can’t do this!” I exclaim, jolting back.
Daniel stares at me, confused. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“This. All of this.” I gesture around. My heart is pounding, but this isn’t a panic attack, this is just my nerves, and fear, and the knowledge that I need to say this quick before I can back down. “It’s wrong. And it’s my fault, I get that, but I don’t know what I can do to make it right!”
Daniel stares at me. “Is this about tonight?” he asks carefully. “Because, I said I’m sorry—“
“It’s everything!” I cry. “I’ve spent all this time hiding who I am, and I can’t do it anymore!”
“Woah, calm down.” He reaches for me again, but I back away, and put several steps between us. “It’s OK, Juliet. I know you. We’ve been together two years now,” he adds, with a reassuring smile. “I know you’ve been feeling stressed, with finals and moving and everything—“
“No!” I stop him, my emotions whirling. “You’re not listening to me. I did something terrible.” My voice breaks, but I take a breath and plunge ahead with my terrible confession. “I cheated on you, Daniel. I’m so, so sorry.”
There’s silence. I hug my arms tight around me, desperately waiting for his reaction. If it were me over there… But no, I can’t think like that. I don’t know what I’d do in his situation, but I know it wouldn’t be pretty.
I watch him anxiously. Daniel takes a breath, and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks down for a moment, then back up at me, his expression crushed. “What happened?” he asks slowly.
I gulp. “I went back, and, there’s a guy there. The guy.” I try to explain, but all my words sound empty and flat. “And I… we kissed. I know I shouldn’t have, but, I wanted to. That’s how f**ked up I am,” I feel sobs coming, sharp in my throat, “I wanted to kiss him, I forgot all about you!”
“But you didn’t sleep with him?” Daniel’s voice rises with a note of hope.
I shake my head.
He takes a long breath, as if he’s deciding something. “This isn’t you,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “Going back, all the old memories… You’re under a lot of pressure. Maybe this is my fault,” he looks at me plaintively, “I should have been there for you.”
“No!” I cry. This is exactly what Lacey told me this morning, but it feels like a million years ago. How could I have ever thought I could just sweep what happened with Emerson aside? It meant something to me.
hat’s the alternative? My heart aches with confusion. How can I explain it now, after pretending for so long? Would Daniel even love me if he knew the damage I’ve been hiding?
Emerson loved you. The treacherous voice whispers. He didn’t care about the mess and the hurt, and your broken, f**ked-up heart.
But that was before—before mom died, and he decided the mess was too much, and what was left of my heart was totally destroyed. God knows what it looks like now.
Maybe pretending is the best I can hope for anymore.
* * *
I want to sleep at my apartment tonight, alone, but I can’t find a good excuse, so I let Daniel drive us back to his without a word. As soon as we get there, I go lock myself in the bathroom again and run the shower, trying to get all this confusion out of my mind. I feel like a house of cards, teetering in the wind, like one wrong word will send everything tumbling to the ground. I’m guilty over what happened with Emerson, but angry at Daniel too—for putting me through that tonight, without asking, or even warning me what he’d planned.
It’s my own fault, I know. How is he supposed to know just how bad things are with my family when I’ve taken such care to hide it from him? How can he understand how much it hurts me when they just ignore the past when that’s all I’ve been doing with him? But knowing that doesn’t stop the burn in my chest, remembering the way he patted my shoulder to calm me down, and quickly smoothed over the uncomfortable truths I laid bare.
I try to catch my breath. My mind is racing, but I don’t know what to do. Usually, I’d try to keep my anger under wraps and just accept that Daniel thought he was doing a nice thing, because he cares. But now it’s like the last few days in Cedar Cove have brought all my old memories and emotions boiling to the surface, cracking through my hard-won calm. I started today so desperate to forget about Emerson and go back to my warm, simple life with Daniel, but now I see, there’s nothing simple about this lie I’ve been building.
Pretending like the past never happened is a recipe for disaster. If not now, then someday, down the line, the shit is going to hit the fan. But either way, I know, I can’t run from it any more. I can’t hide the parts of myself that scare me – or the bad things I’ve done.
With a surge of adrenalin, I open the bathroom door and step out into the bedroom. Daniel is sprawled on his stomach on the bed, looking at his laptop. He’s in sweats and an old college T-shirt, sleepy and cute, and for a moment, I falter, my words sticking in my throat.
“You coming to bed?” He asks. He closes the computer and gets up. “We can pick up where we left off…” he adds, reaching for me with a suggestive look in his eyes.
His hands slide around my waist, but the feel of his touch on me is the final straw.
“I can’t do this!” I exclaim, jolting back.
Daniel stares at me, confused. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“This. All of this.” I gesture around. My heart is pounding, but this isn’t a panic attack, this is just my nerves, and fear, and the knowledge that I need to say this quick before I can back down. “It’s wrong. And it’s my fault, I get that, but I don’t know what I can do to make it right!”
Daniel stares at me. “Is this about tonight?” he asks carefully. “Because, I said I’m sorry—“
“It’s everything!” I cry. “I’ve spent all this time hiding who I am, and I can’t do it anymore!”
“Woah, calm down.” He reaches for me again, but I back away, and put several steps between us. “It’s OK, Juliet. I know you. We’ve been together two years now,” he adds, with a reassuring smile. “I know you’ve been feeling stressed, with finals and moving and everything—“
“No!” I stop him, my emotions whirling. “You’re not listening to me. I did something terrible.” My voice breaks, but I take a breath and plunge ahead with my terrible confession. “I cheated on you, Daniel. I’m so, so sorry.”
There’s silence. I hug my arms tight around me, desperately waiting for his reaction. If it were me over there… But no, I can’t think like that. I don’t know what I’d do in his situation, but I know it wouldn’t be pretty.
I watch him anxiously. Daniel takes a breath, and sits on the edge of the bed. He looks down for a moment, then back up at me, his expression crushed. “What happened?” he asks slowly.
I gulp. “I went back, and, there’s a guy there. The guy.” I try to explain, but all my words sound empty and flat. “And I… we kissed. I know I shouldn’t have, but, I wanted to. That’s how f**ked up I am,” I feel sobs coming, sharp in my throat, “I wanted to kiss him, I forgot all about you!”
“But you didn’t sleep with him?” Daniel’s voice rises with a note of hope.
I shake my head.
He takes a long breath, as if he’s deciding something. “This isn’t you,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “Going back, all the old memories… You’re under a lot of pressure. Maybe this is my fault,” he looks at me plaintively, “I should have been there for you.”
“No!” I cry. This is exactly what Lacey told me this morning, but it feels like a million years ago. How could I have ever thought I could just sweep what happened with Emerson aside? It meant something to me.