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Paige stared at me for a long moment, then finally stuck her chopsticks in her carton and leaned in.
“There are sealed medical records and other files that have magically disappeared.”
My brows shot up. “What files?”
“Records of rehab stays. Missing person’s reports. Things like that.”
My whole forehead crinkled, and I felt it go straight to my skull. Roman had said she’d gone to meet her dealer and stayed away for days. Losing track of time was not uncommon when an addict was high. But she had tried to go to rehab too? Something must have stuck eventually because she seemed sober now.
“And the medical records?”
“Rumors of stomach pumps, a laceration claim, and an overdose incident. There’s nothing concrete, it’s been covered up well,” Paige offered and resumed eating. “We think the single actual sealed record is about Roman. He would have been about eight years old, I think, but we don’t know what he was seen for or why. It’s all just rumors at this point.”
“Oh, my God. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Paige frowned. “Because this,” she motioned her hand between the two of us, “is what’s called speculation. If taken further, it could be considered slander. Not to mention, it’s part of my job to keep shit like this under wraps.”
“But you’re telling me now,” I said softly, so grateful Paige trusted me enough to speak about this.
She nodded. “Because things are different now, aren’t they?”
She looked at me as though reading my thoughts, waiting for me to admit the truth. My chest tightened on every breath.
“I think I’m falling in love with him.” I ran my fingers over my temple. “But every time I think we’re moving forward, something stalls us. There are secrets, on both sides, and I feel the distance they bring. I hate it.”
“It’s hard to trust, Amy,” Paige said like she knew firsthand. “People, for the most part, are assholes.”
“I don’t think so,” I whispered.
Paige smiled. “And that’s why you’re different. After Warren, you have every reason not to trust men. You have no reason to trust your parents, because all they do is wrongfully blame you. It’s easy to see why you’d have a hard time trusting. Yet you trust anyway.”
I scoffed because holy crap, she was right. “I really am an idiot, aren’t I?”
“No,” Paige looked truly upset by my statement. “You have hope. The kind that is unwavering and that, honey, makes you strong. Not stupid.”
“You’re strong too,” I said.
“I can’t see people the way you do, Amy. I probably never will. And unfortunately, instead of rose-tinted glasses, Roman wears gray ones. Giving your trust to someone completely is a lot to ask.”
“It’s possible he may never give it, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But you have to decide how far you’ll go for him. How much you can take before what he does give you is no longer enough.”
“All I know is I can’t hurt him. Can’t not be around him. I just want him to be happy.”
“Then he’s lucky to have you.”
I took a bite of my food, wondering if Roman would ever really open up to me. Ever start trusting. Because the problem was, I didn’t know how much I could take. By the time I figured it out, it would be too late, of that I was certain. But walking away now wasn’t an option. Now or maybe ever.
I clicked my fork against my plate and chewed quietly.
“You’ve been awfully quiet this week,” Roman said from across the table. I kept my eyes on my food.
“So have you.”
“I’ve had a lot of meetings.”
“I know.” Election Day was drawing closer. I pushed my plate to the side and folded my hands in my lap.
