Page 29 of The Editor’s Choice

I’ve been debating on the best way to handle the situation with Jade, but so far, I’m coming up short. There’s no good answer here. Either way this goes, I don’t see a positive outcome for anybody honestly. And the last thing I want to do is lose the one safe place I’ve managed to find in this fucked up world.

Changing into some sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, I slip on some shoes, desperate to find some breathing room. The hope of fresh air brightening the mood is quickly doused with a crack of lightning, followed by a distant rumble of thunder.

Great, I think. Exactly what I needed today. However, when the first heavy raindrops fall a few minutes later, I don’t seek shelter away from the storm. Instead, I let it swallow me whole, consuming me. It’s uncomfortable at first. Annoying truthfully. But soon, I notice my worries and anxieties seem to be washing away with the water running down my body.

As if the rain is cleansing more than just my body, washing away any remnants of the bad mood I’ve been in since I saw that video, I feel my spirit lighten a bit. For just a moment, I can breathe deeply and believe that everything is going to work out in the end. That’s what everyone always says, isn’t it?

Once I’m thoroughly soaked, I realize there’s a big goofy ass smile plastered across my face. With drops of water falling from my lashes and the tip of my nose, I relish the feeling while it lasts, laughing like a lunatic.

Sometimes, a rainy day is exactly what you need to get your head on straight.

***

“I think we probably need to talk,” I begin, heart pounding frantically in my chest, desperate to end this conversation before it even begins. It’s necessary, I remind myself, refusing to give in to the desire to smooth everything over and avoid this all together.

“Honestly, I don’t know if there’s even anything to talk about, Roman,” she says, leaning against the frame of her front door.

Once the high of the rain had faded away, leaving me feeling cold and empty once again, I headed to my apartment for some dry clothes before making my way to Jade’s apartment, determined to finish this once and for all.

The second she opened the door, my heart faltered. She was stunning even though she was dressed casually, no makeup, with her hair in a messy bun on top of her head. The oversize black and purple tie-dyed t-shirt with black gym shorts tied the lazy day look together perfectly, leaving me breathless momentarily.

“Can I come in?” I ask, not wanting to push it too far. It’s a conversation that needs to be had but pushing her right off the bat isn’t going to be beneficial to anybody.

With a heavy sigh, she drops her eyes to the floor before turning to trudge to the living room, leaving the door wide open for me. Breathing a sigh composed of relief and hesitation, I step into the apartment, knowing it’s the point of no return. That knowledge alone makes me want to puke.

I sit on the edge of the leather couch as she fills two glasses with water in the kitchen before joining me. The ice clinks as she sets them on the coffee table coasters before taking the seat opposite me.

She pulls her knees up toward her chest before leaning back into the chair to get more comfortable. “So,” she says, refusing to let the awkward silence continue any longer.

“I just think there’s a lot to talk about here. I’m conflicted about everything that’s going on and I really need some clarity,” I start, not wanting to accuse her of anything without getting her side of the story.

“Same though. I don’t know what’s going on between us, if anything, so some clarity there would be nice,” she agrees.

“Um, we can absolutely talk about that. But I wanted to talk to you about something else first,” I say, wringing my hands between my knees in front of me. I can’t bring myself to look at her, knowing she will lock eyes with me and my resolve will instantly crumble. This woman is the embodiment of kryptonite.

“Okay?” she says, cocking her eyebrow, confusion written across her face. “What did you wanna talk about then? I thought we were on the same page here.”

I chance a glance at her, taking in every tiny detail about her. I do my best to memorize it all in case this is the end of my time with her, yet hoping there’s some sense of salvation to be found in her response to the impending questions.

“We are. Well kinda. I do want to talk about that. But I think there’s a more pressing issue that needs to be discussed beforehand.” I’m stalling. The anxiety building in my body is making me physically uncomfortable, like I might explode at any second.

“I don’t know how to even bring any of this up, Jade,” I say, wringing my hands again, trying to figure out the right words to say but coming up with nothing. After just a second of hesitation, I plunge into the deep end before I lose the balls to say anything at all.

“You told me that Emily was murdered right after we first met. That first drunk night we spent together. I spent the entire night feeling sick over how upset and hurt you were, pledging to myself that I would get to the bottom of the situation, or at least try to,” I explain, letting the words spill from the bottom of my soul without restriction.

Her face is calm and composed, but her eyes are wild and frantic, wondering where all of this is heading, no doubt. The energy shift in the room is tangible, from sadness and confusion to an intense fear. From both sides it seems.

“I was able to get into contact with some people who helped me piece everything together, at least somewhat. We got access to the coroner’s report, as well as some surveillance footage from the parking lot at the overlook,” I pause, waiting for that information to sink in. The look in her eyes shifts as it does. She knows I know.

“I saw you, Jade. I saw Emily arrive at the park with Dawson. I saw you walking up the path to the other overlook shortly after they arrived. After a while, 18 minutes to be exact, you walked back to the parking lot, but not from that same path, right? You came from the other side, the overgrown path. The same path where Emily was found early that next morning.” I let everything out, deciding it’s best to just lay everything out on the table, in the open.

I wait, giving her space to collect herself and decide how we’re going to proceed from here. It takes several minutes before she says anything at all.

She wipes a lone tear sliding down her cheek before finding her voice. “It’s not what it seems, Roman,” she begins, voice shaky. “Okay, it actually is exactly what it seems. Or at least I think it is. Fuck, I don’t even know anymore,” she voices, sounding a little more confident now.

I lean back into the soft leather, not putting any pressure on her to continue until she’s ready. I’m doing my very best to keep an open mind about what she has to say, even though the case seems open and shut to me. In all my years of collection work, rarely was any situation other than what it seemed.

“God, I think I did kill her.” With that admission, and I’m assuming the first time she voiced it out loud, she springs up from her chair and sprints to the kitchen before violently expelling the contents of her stomach into the trash can.