Page 49 of Unholy Confessions
The moment the door clicks shut, I feel the dam break. The tears I've been holding back all night come flooding out, and I'm sobbing before I can even get words out.
"Hey, hey." Skylar's arms are around me instantly, pulling me against her chest. "It's okay. Let it out."
But it's not okay. Nothing about this is okay. "Sky, I can't—" I choke on the words, my breath coming in sharp gasps. "I can't do this."
She guides me to the couch, settling beside me and rubbing circles on my back. "Talk to me. What happened last night?"
I tell her everything. About finding the pills in RJ's jeans, about the fight, about how he looked at me like I was the enemy when all I wanted was to help him. The words tumble out between sobs, and Skylar just listens, occasionally making soft sounds of understanding or anger on my behalf.
"And the worst part," I continue, wiping my nose with the tissue she handed me, "is that I've seen this before. I know exactly how this story goes."
Skylar's hand stills on my back. "Your dad."
"My dad." The words taste bitter. "He started with pills after he hurt his back on tour. Just for the pain, he said. Then it was cocaine to stay awake during long recording sessions. Then it was heroin because nothing else worked anymore." I lean forward, burying my face in my hands. "I watched it destroy him. I watched it destroy our family."
The memories come flooding back—Dad missing dinner again, Mom crying in the kitchen when she thought I couldn't hear, the nights I'd lie awake listening to them fight about money, about his behavior, about the band. The final straw when I was twelve and found him passed out in his car in our driveway, needle still hanging from his arm.
"I remember the intervention," I whisper. "Mom made me sit there and tell Dad how his using made me feel. I was twelve years old, Sky. Twelve. And I had to look at my hero and tell him he was scaring me."
"Jesus, Montgomery."
"He got clean after that. It took him two more rehab visits, but he did it. But those years—" I shake my head, fresh tears spilling over. "Those years nearly killed all of us. And now I'm watching it happen again with someone I—" I can't finish the sentence.
"Someone you love," Skylar finishes gently.
"Yes, I've loved him for most of my life, but now?"
"Now you're scared."
"I'm terrified." I look at her, feeling more vulnerable than I have in years. "What if I can't save him? What if he doesn't want to be saved? What if I'm just setting myself up to watch someone I care about destroy themselves all over again?"
Skylar is quiet for a long moment, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. Finally, she shifts to face me fully. "Can I ask you something?"
I nod.
"Do you see a future with RJ? Like, if the drugs weren't part of the equation, could you see yourself building something real with him?"
The question catches me off guard. If she had asked me before all of this started? It would have been an unequivocable yes, no hesitation. Now? I've been so focused on the crisis at hand that I haven't thought about what comes after—if there is an after.
"I don't know," I say honestly. "Before last night, yes. He's different from anyone else. He sees me, you know? Not just as Jared Winston's daughter or as some conquest. Because we've lived the same life as children of rockstars, we've never looked at each other as anything other than normal. He sees me as Montgomery, just Montgomery. And when we're together—" I pause, searching for the right words. "When we're together, I feel like I can be completely myself. No walls, no pretense. Just me."
"That's not nothing," Skylar says softly.
"No, it's not nothing. But is it enough? Is it enough to build a relationship on when there's this massive, destructive thing standing between us?" I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. "I keep thinking about my parents. Mom stayed. She fought for Dad, supported him through rehab, held our family together while he figured his shit out. And they made it work. But Sky, it nearly broke her. There were times I wasn't sure she'd survive it."
"You're not your mother, and RJ isn't your father."
"But addiction is addiction. The patterns are the same. The lying, the secrecy, the choosing the drugs over everything else that matters." I feel a fresh wave of tears building. "Last night, when I confronted him about the pills, you should have seen his face. He was angry at me, and called me a bitch. Me, Sky. For caring enough to say something. How fucked up is that?"
Skylar reaches over and takes my hands in hers. "It's the addiction talking, not him. You know that, right? When someone's using, they'll say and do anything to protect their high. They'll hurt the people they love most if it means they can keep using."
"I know that intellectually. But emotionally?" I shake my head. "It still hurts. It still feels like he chose the drugs over me."
"Because in that moment, he did. And that's the reality of addiction, Montgomery. It makes people choose the substance over everything else, even when they don't want to."
The truth of her words settles heavily in my chest. "So what do I do? Do I walk away before this gets worse? Do I protect myself and let him figure it out on his own?"
"What do you want to do?"
