Page 129 of Liam

Addie

Yeah, sorry.

I glance up at Roman, his eyes glued to the TV, watching the same crew of young adults make more bad decisions. Funny, he didn’t put this show on when Dayna was around. He once admitted the mind-numbing show was his way of winding down—that he enjoyed it because he didn’t have to think. Orfeel. And after the day we’ve had, it might be exactly what he needs.

He joined me in therapy today.

There was so much I needed to say, and I wanted to do it in a space where I couldn’t just shut down and bury my feelings for years, like I had before.

I started by telling him I understand why he kept things from me, that I appreciated him for wanting to protect me, and that I am who I am because he sacrificed so much of himself so Icouldbe. And then I told him Iknow.

I know it was him who found out about the pictures.

I know he went to deliver drugs to a client who asked him if he had access to more of them.

I know he beat the shit out of the guy until he revealed everything.

And I know all of that happened a few hours before he was arrested.

I know all this because Wyatt told me. He read about it in his police report. But even if he hadn’t read it there, he already knew because one of the first things Roman did when he got out of prison was check in on Wyatt. It was through Wyatt I learned everything else—about Roman’s efforts to take down the cop whileinprison.

He never stopped fighting for me. For Wyatt.

He became the voice for two kids who were silenced by their surroundings, by their upbringings, and nothing I do in life will ever display the extent of gratitude I have for him.

And then I told him I hope he finds a way to heal, too. Like I have been. And I hope, one day, he can release the burden of guilt that’s weighed heavy on his shoulders… because it’s not his to carry.

When I was finally done speaking, Roman remained silent. Stoic. That’s when my therapist asked me to give them a moment. I gave them an hour. I don’t know what was said, and I doubt Roman will ever tell me. But afterward, he drove back to the apartment, asked me to wait in the truck. When he returned, he handed me an empty glass jar. We spent the afternoon at the old junkyard, filling the jar—and our hearts—withpaint chip moments.

I think, in a way, it was the perfect way to end this particular scavenger hunt in life. Each paint chip added was another puzzle piece, and in the end, it didn’t matter if they all connected. It only mattered that they belonged.

That they had a home.

Together.

I think—Ihope—it was the closure we both needed to move on from the past and heal from the wounds left behind.

My phone vibrates it my hand, bringing me back to the present.

Liam

So… what are you doing?

Addie

I’m just watching TV with Roman.

Liam

Want to go for a walk around the block a few hundred times?

I giggle.

“Is that Liam?” Roman asks.

“Yeah.”

“What’s he saying?”

---