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I can’t tell them, no matter the consequences.
“Look, this will go over with a judge way better if you just admit to taking the pictures.”
“I already told you I didn’t take those photos. I wouldn’t fucking do that to her.” I slam my fist down on the metal table, over and over again, willing them to fucking listen to me. Every time I see one of the photos my stomach churns and I have to hold back the need to vomit.
Cole. He’s the one who did this. He fucking did it, and still, I’m paying for it. I’m reaping the repercussions.
“This isn’t looking good for you, Mr. Miller, so I really advise you to come clean, it would be a better option for you.”
My lips pull into a thin line, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“I didn’t do it, and I won’t tell you that again.”
The questioning goes on for another twenty minutes with the same results. Each time they ask me a question I get angrier, the dread, the guilt, the fucking shame, pales in comparison to the hate I have for Cole, and myself. With a look between them, the detectives get up, one of them closing the folder and placing it under his arm.
“Am I under arrest?” I question.
Detective Stevens answers, “Not at this moment, but mark my words, I will find enough evidence to nail your ass to the wall. There are far enough assholes like you in this world, believe me when I say you won’t be missed. We’ll be in touch, Mr. Miller.”
They leave the room, leaving me and Seb to our own devices.
“Seb, I didn’t take the pictures.” I don’t know if he believes me or not and I can’t muster up the courage to look him in his eyes. I’m so angry at myself, so fucking pissed that I brought Jules into all of this.
He leaves the room, just as the detectives did, slamming the door shut behind him. I let my head fall into my hands, wishing this was all just a bad dream, one that I would be waking up from any minute now. I imagine I would roll over and she would be there, tucked into my side, but she’s not and she never will be again, because I did this to us, turned this nightmare into a reality. Tears sting my eyes. I miss her so much, her touch, her smell, her fucking smile.
Closing my eyes, I remember her face, her blue eyes, soft blonde curls, adorable button nose, the way she whimpers and moans when she falls apart, her pink lips. A thousand memories rush through me flickering right before my eyes like an old style movie.
I sit there for a long moment, letting myself relive those things before I push the emotions aside and get up and walk back to my house like a robot. By the time I get home, my mind is still in disarray. I need to clear my head first, then I need to find Cole, but I don’t know how, or even where to fucking start. I decide to go on a run, maybe that will help calm down the ever-growing storm inside of me.
When I reach my dresser, I pull open the top drawer and freeze. My knees buckle and I almost fall to the ground. I pick up the shirt that’s neatly folded on top and clutch it to my chest for a few minutes before returning it to the drawer. I get out my own stuff, but I leave the worn out cotton shirt with a faded Mickey Mouse logo laying on top.
I don’t think there is a chance that she will ever come back to me, but I can’t bring myself to think that she wouldn’t. I can’t let myself believe that there is no chance at all of her being mine again. We’re two pieces of the same soul, each other’s forevers and if I lose her, I might as well be dead.
Hope always dies last.
???
The days move slowly without Jules. I force myself to run every night just to stop myself from going to her. Sebastian hasn’t admitted it, but I know she’s staying with him, and it takes everything in me to give her time, space. Each day without her feels like an eternity. My reason to breathe starts and ends with her.
Gritting my teeth, I push harder, my lungs burn, a delicious ache forming in my muscles, as I round the block and sprint the rest of the way up to the house. As I get closer, I notice Sebastian and my father standing outside. They look as if they’re in a heated conversation, one that I don’t want to involve myself in. I’ve got enough going on inside my head. I don’t need to add more to it, that is unless it has something to do with Jules.
