Page 163 of The Comedown

I envy her.

“Because the questions used to come for me, too,” I confess quietly. “In the beginning.”

“Questions about what?” he asks innocently, making me instantly suspicious. There’s not an innocent bone in Julian’s body and I know his body well.

I eye the tabletop, tapping the tines of a fork against the scratched surface. Tap, tap, tap. I could do it. I could tell him. The alcohol didn’t make me forget, but it did give me a false sense of freedom.

It’s not like he’ll believe me. It’s not like anyone will ever believe me. Not with Bodee’s diabolical plan to disprove my word.

So, I say it, the sentence I’ve never said aloud, to anyone, ever. “Bodee’s manager tried to rape me.”

After a minute, Julian asks, “John Davies?”

My gaze flies to his, finding a terrifying beauty there. If he could spit fire, I have no doubt he’d be doing it right now. The world would be in embers in seconds because not only does he believe me, he’s also mad.

“I call him Jack, but yeah. You know him?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t still be sitting here after you just told me that.”

“How did—”

“Holter told me.”

My eyes widen, but he rushes to add, “Sort of. He just said his dad’s manager had to go out of town before he could visit Bodee. I figured something was up with the guy.”

I’m back to staring at the fork, wishing that I could do it—be free. From Bodee, from everyone’s expectations…even my own. I’d say whatever I want. Eat whatever I want. Do whatever I want.

I’d carve my initials into the side of the table like countless others have done without considering the consequences. Or I’d stand up and dance badly because my body should be just that…mine. Or I’d scream until my voice gave out.

I don’t do any of those things, because I’m a hypocrite. I preach about being authentic meanwhile I let Bodee dictate my life just as much as Julian lets his record label dictate his. The only difference is I don’t complain about it like he does. I don’t do anything about it.

“When was this?” Julian asks, his voice balancing on the edge of that anger he’s well acquainted with.

“Our wedding night. There was…a lot of buildup and strain on our relationship leading up to the wedding. Things were not good for a while and were only getting worse. Then we found out I was pregnant, and Bodee announced our engagement without ever proposing, so I felt stuck between—”

“Who all knew you were fucking pregnant? John Davies?”

“All of Bodee’s camp knew. Bodee…” I don’t know if I should say it. I don’t know how to without needing a shower immediately afterward. “I think Bodee’s plan wasn’t just to obtain blackmail leverage over me, but to also…” I don’t want to say it. I need to though. I need to break my silence. I need to make it real to someone other than just myself, then I’ll be able to see just how bad it really was. Our eyes collide as I force the vile words out of my mouth, telling Julian, “I think Bodee wanted Jack to cause me to miscarry.”

“You’re saying Bodee knew what John was going to do…before the attempt was made?”

I nod, bringing my legs up from under the table to hug my shaking knees.

“He set it up.”

I confess everything to Julian, purging my soul of every last remnant of Bodee’s transgressions. Without Bodee’s secrets weighing me down, I don’t feel dirty like I expected. I feel lighter almost, maybe even a touch freer. I explain how I got away that night, realizing it’s not just Bodee’s secrets I’ve been holding on to, but my own as well.

When I finish, I expect Julian to run out of the restaurant in search of my ex. Instead, he reaches across the table, gripping my hand gently before helping me climb over the top to sit next to him.

Once I’m tucked against his side, Julian apologizes. He apologizes for not knowing sooner, for not being able to do anything then or now.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done. This is…my mess.”

“Why do you call him Jack?”

“You’ve never seen him?”

He shakes his head. “Why?”