Page 60 of Unholy Confessions
"Isn't it?" EJ leans forward, his elbows on the table. "Montgomery, you're a good person. You have a good heart. But these past few months? The two of you have gone through the ringer, and if you were thinking about getting out, then there's a reason for that."
Tears prick at my eyes, and I hate that he's right. I hate that somewhere along the way, loving RJ had started to feel like work, like an obligation rather than a choice. Love isn't supposed to be hard, but it was starting to get there.
"He needs me," I whisper, but even to my own ears it sounds hollow.
"Does he? Or do the two of you need to take some time apart?"
The question cuts deep, exposing a truth I've been running from for months. Because wasn't that exactly what Skylar and I were discussing?
"You don't understand," I say, but my voice lacks conviction. "What we have?—"
"What you had," EJ corrects gently. "Montgomery, when was the last time you were truly happy with him? Actually happy?"
I open my mouth to answer, but no words come. It should've been the day at the zoo, but even that was up in the air. The realization hits me like a truck, stealing my breath and making my chest tight.
"He's going to get better," EJ continues. "But he needs to do it for himself, not because he feels obligated to be the person you fell in love with in high school. And you... you deserve to be with someone who doesn't make you question what they're doing every single day."
"But I love him," I say, and I hate how pathetic I sound.
"I know you do. But Montgomery, love isn't enough. Not when it's killing both of you."
I stare down at my hands, wishing like hell that RJ was sitting across from me, and he'd wrapped that straw paper around my finger.
"He doesn't even want to see me," I admit quietly. "It's been two weeks, and he hasn't asked for me once. I called to see if he had."
EJ nods slowly. "Maybe that should tell you something."
The tears I've been holding back finally spill over, and I swipe at them angrily. "So what, you want me to just give up on him? Walk away like we didn't mean anything to one another in the last seven years?"
"I want you to be honest with yourself about what's best for both of you." EJ's voice is kind but firm. "RJ needs someone who doesn't doubt him, who believes in his recovery one hundred percent. And if you can't be that person—if you can't look at him and not see all the ways he might disappoint you again—then for the benefit of everyone involved, you need to let him go."
The silence stretches between us, filled with the clatter of dishes and the murmur of other conversations. I feel like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff, and EJ is asking me to jump.
"What if I regret it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"What if you regret not doing it?"
I think about the past few months, hell even the last few weeks. About the constant anxiety, the walking on eggshells, the way I've started to shrink myself smaller and smaller, trying not to trigger him, trying not to be too much or too little or too anything. I think about the girl I used to be before I became Montgomery-who-loves-RJ, before my entire identity became wrapped up in saving someone who maybe didn't want to be saved.
"The European tour starts in five weeks," EJ says. "If you're going to make this decision, you need to make it soon. He's going to need time to adjust, to learn how to be himself without you there as a safety net."
I nod, not trusting my voice. Because somewhere deep down, I know he's right. I know that what RJ and I have been doing isn't love—not anymore. It's codependency dressed up in romantic language, two people clinging to each other not because they want to but because they're afraid of what happens if they let go.
"I need time to think," I finally manage.
"Of course." EJ signals the waitress, asking for a to-go box. "But Montgomery? Whatever you decide, make sure it's because it's what you want, not because you think it's what you owe him."
As we leave the restaurant, I feel like I'm walking in a daze. The southern heat hits me like a wall, but I barely notice it. All I can think about is EJ's question: when was the last time I was truly happy with RJ?
And the terrifying thing is, I still can't come up with an answer.
Chapter 29
RJ
The alarm on the side of my bed beeps, and I reach over to slap it, the same way I've done for the past two weeks.
Two weeks in rehab, in trying to figure out what's made me the way I am, of trying to become the person I was always meant to be.
