Page 45 of Unholy Confessions
The back porch is my favorite part of his house. It's spacious and comfortable, with cushioned chairs and a view of his property that extends to a small pond surrounded by trees. We settle into the chairs, and I immediately feel the stress of our zoo visit melt away.
"This is exactly what I needed," I sigh, tilting my face up to catch the sun.
RJ disappears inside for a moment and returns with his acoustic guitar—the same one he's had since high school, worn smooth from years of playing. He settles back into his chair and starts strumming softly.
"Any requests?" he asks.
"Play whatever feels right."
He starts with something I don't recognize, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. It's a gentle melody, with a bit of an edge. It's the type of rhythm I love, and he knows it. I close my eyes and let the music wash over me, feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks.
"That's beautiful," I murmur when he finishes. "Is it new?"
"Yeah, I've been working on it." He looks almost shy, which is unusual for him. "It's about coming home."
"To the Nashville area?"
"To you."
The simple statement makes my heart skip. This is the RJ I fell in love with—thoughtful, romantic, completely genuine in his affection. When he looks at me like this, it's easy to forget about all the complications, all the uncertainty about our future.
He plays a few more songs, mixing originals with covers of songs we both love. His voice is rougher than it is on Grey Skies' albums, more intimate. This is the voice I remember from late nights in his childhood bedroom, when he'd play softly so his parents wouldn't hear.
"I love watching you play," I tell him. "You look so peaceful."
"Music has always been my escape," he says, still strumming gently. "But lately, it feels like work more than joy."
"Maybe you need to remember why you started playing in the first place."
He looks at me for a long moment. "It was for you, you know. I wanted to impress my best friend in chemistry class."
"You were terrible at chemistry," I laugh.
"But I was great at guitar."
"You were great at guitar," I agree. "You still are."
The afternoon stretches on, it's everything I've wanted. We talk about everything and nothing, sharing memories and dreams like we used to do. For a few hours, it feels like we're those same kids who fell in love in high school, before life got complicated.
As the sun starts to sink lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard, I realize this is what I've been missing. Not just RJ, but this version of us—relaxed, happy, completely focused on each other.
"Thank you for today," I say softly.
"Thank you for giving us another chance."
I reach over and take his hand, intertwining our fingers. "We're going to figure this out, aren't we?"
"Yeah," he says, bringing my hand to his lips. "We are. It might not be easy, but we'll get it together if it kills us."
Chapter 23
RJ
I've loved spending time with Montgomery. This is the type of day I've missed since Grey Skies went on tour, and got back. This is what we've been missing, but I can't lie. I need something. I had so hoped I wouldn't be tempted, but my fucking hands are itching, and I only have a few pills left.
She's in my bedroom, changing for bed, and here I am pacing my living room, trying to figure out how I'm going to get my next hit without her knowing. The little bit left in the baggie from yesterday is calling my name, but she's going to know. Won't she? Yeah, she'll definitely know. There are a few pills left in the pill vial, but that's in the pocket of my jeans, and I'm going to have to figure out how to get it without her knowing.
I spend so much time going back and forth with what I want to do, that I waste all my time. Before I realize it, she's coming down the stairs with a basket of clothes in her hands.
