Page 51 of Unholy Confessions
"Thank you," I tell her, meaning it more than I can express. "For being here, for listening, for not trying to tell me what to do."
"That's what friends are for." She smooths my hair back from my face. "But Montgomery? Whatever you decide, I've got your back. Whether you choose to fight for this relationship or walk away, I'll support you."
"Even if I make the wrong choice?"
"There is no wrong choice here. There's just the choice that's right for you, in this moment, with the information you have. And whatever happens, you'll handle it. You're stronger than you think."
I want to believe her, but right now I feel anything but strong. I feel scared and confused and heartbroken over a relationship that might not even survive the week.
But maybe that's okay. Maybe feeling all of this means I care enough to fight for something real, even if it's messy and complicated and scary as hell.
"I think I need to be alone for a while," I tell Skylar. "To figure out what I want to say to him."
She nods, understanding. "Call me if you need anything. And Montgomery? Whatever happens with RJ, don't forget that you deserve someone who chooses you. Every day, over everything else that might compete for their attention. Don't settle for less than that."
After she leaves, I sit in the quiet of my apartment, her words echoing in my mind. Do I deserve someone who chooses me? And more importantly, is RJ capable of being that person?
Only time will tell. But first, I need to decide if I'm brave enough to find out.
Chapter 25
RJ
There's a loud banging on my front door. It wakes me up, and for a moment, I'm not sure where I am. Sometime last night, I must have fallen asleep on my couch. It's been a long week since Montgomery left. Stumbling to the door, I yell, "Be right there!"
When I swing the door open, I'm unprepared for the fist that connects with my chin. I don't even get a look at the person behind it.
"What the fuck?"
The voice I recognize as soon as he starts speaking. "Who the fuck do you think you are using drugs with my daughter around? What's gotten into you, and how can I help you?" Jared asks roughly, equal parts pissed, and sympathetic.
Immediately my stomach turns, and tears pool in my eyes. "I don't know," I admit hoarsely. "I don't know how you can help me."
Jared pushes past me into my apartment, and I don't try to stop him. My jaw throbs where he hit me, but I probably deserved it. Hell, I definitely deserved it.
"Jesus Christ, RJ." He's looking around my living room, taking in the empty bottles on the coffee table, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts, the general disaster that my life has become in such a short amount of time. "When's the last time you cleaned this place? Or showered?"
I run a hand through my greasy hair, suddenly aware of how I must look and smell. "I don't remember."
He turns to face me fully, and I can see the disappointment in his eyes. It's worse than the punch was. "Sit down. We need to talk."
I sink onto the couch, and he takes the chair across from me. For a moment, neither of us speaks. I can feel him studying me, cataloging all the ways I've let myself fall apart.
"Montgomery told Shell what happened the last time she was here," he says finally. "I would've been here that night, but I was pissed at the way you treated my daughter and I had to come to terms with it before I came here."
The mention of her name makes my chest tighten. "Is she okay?"
"No, RJ. She's not okay. She's scared out of her mind because she watched her father go through this same shit when she was a kid."
The words hit me like another punch, but this one's to the gut. "I didn't know how bad it was back then, not really, until she told me. And I'd never compare myself to you. I didn't know?—"
"Of course you didn't know. Because you're too fucked up to think about anyone but yourself right now." His voice is harsh, but I can hear the concern underneath it. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to yourself? To the people who care about you?"
I want to argue, to defend myself, but the truth is I don't have a defense. "I know I fucked up."
"Fucked up?" Jared leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "RJ, you're not just fucking up. You're destroying your life. And I'm going to tell you exactly what that looks like, because I've been there."
I look up at him, still surprised by the experience he has. He's had his life together and in control for a long time.
