Page 70 of I Knew You
She reached over and took my hand into hers. As our fingers intertwined, she said soothingly, “I think there is a lot in life we can’t forget, no matter how hard we try. Feelings imprint on us. Those feelings, those times—they become a part of us, and forgetting the past would be denying who we are. I think it’s good enough to keep moving forward and realizing that the present and future are as important as the past.”
I let her words settle into my bones.
This was not the light-hearted afternoon walk I thought itwould be. But I realized that Julianna was a magnet for emotion. Nothing was surface-level with her. She dug under my skin before I knew what was happening, drawing out the depth within me. She might enjoy reality television and pretend worlds, but she was more intense and thoughtful than anyone I’d ever known.
“I know I should embrace getting close with Whit again,” she whispered. I thought maybe I hadn’t heard her at all until I looked over at her and saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I think about it all the time. But admitting I want that after he pulled away from me so many years ago so easily...it’s always been more than I can handle. I’ve had to protect myself, and it’s hard to trust anyone. I’ve never told anyone that either.”
I squeezed her hand.
“Julianna…I should tell Whit,” I said, letting the words slip from my lips, knowing that bringing this up could change everything.
“About the marriage? Of course, we should?—"
“No, not about that. I should tell Whit about what happened the night of the wreck.”
She stopped, her smile dissolving.
“No.”
She didn’t want me to say it, but I did anyway.
“I have to,” I countered. “He needs to know I was driving drunk that night. It weighs on me. And I want a clean slate between us, now that we’re all reconnecting.”
Our shared secret had never been spoken, and the words felt dry on my tongue. She dropped my hand like it burned her and turned to face me.
“You can’t do that.” She breathed out the words, her brow furrowed. “You promised you wouldn’t tell him.”
“And I didn’t,” I replied quickly, running a hand through my short hair, feeling the anxiety building in my chest. “I’vekept the secret for fifteen years, and I’ve been grateful many times over that you made me do it.” I knew she’d asked me to keep it to myself to preserve my relationship with Whit in the wake of Grams’ death. Julianna was always looking out for everyone except herself.
“It’s still important,” she snapped. “Whit will never forgive you. I’m the one who begged you to drive, anyway, remember? You didn’t even wreck because of the whiskey. It was because of the deer.”
I swallowed hard. My mind was filled every day with memories of that night. I replayed our passionate first kisses and the way it felt for my fingertips to skim across her soft skin. I had repressed my feelings for her for so long, and it felt like the most significant release to let her know how I wanted her.
“I haven’t forgotten one second of that night,” I said, low and steady. Her lip quivered, and I reached for her hand again, but she pulled it away.
You’re ruining everything.
“You don’t need to remind me.” I continued, “But the facts are, I had been drinking. I was driving. You were riding. I swerved. I couldn’t control the truck down the mountain. You had nothing to do with any of that. You were innocent. I’m the reason your back is fucked up.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “No, it’s not. You didn’t do anything, Bram. You didn’t?—”
“Yes. I did.”
I annunciated the words so she’d understand I knew my role and no denial would change the truth. She stared at me, her gaze hard. The tension between us was right on the precipice of snapping.
“I told everyone I took your truck, and it was me driving it. If you refute that, you’ll make me look like a liar.” Her tone frayed something inside of me.
“I’m not taking out a full-page ad in the local paper. I’m justtelling Whit. He is the only one who would care. He deserves to know what I did.”
She shook her head. “That’s idiotic. Why confess to him when we both know he’ll never forgive you? Maybe even never forgive me for not telling him the truth. Do you want to be responsible for that? For tearing Whit and me further apart when we’ve just agreed to work on our relationship?”
Her words were like claws sinking against my heart.
“It weighs on me,” I said, more somber. “What I did and then hiding it from him, it eats at me. Leaving you on the side of the road with all your injuries, I?—”
“I begged you to leave me!” Her interrupted cry echoed through the trees, and tears fell onto her flushed cheeks. “I made you leave me. You didn’t want to, and I threatened you.”
“I was an adult. I should have stayed no matter what you said. I was scared. I was a coward.”
