That last chapter was very emotional for me. Lemme know what you think.

***

in the light of day. At night, sleepy and shrouded in darkness, the world freezes, and things seem more possible, less wrong. But with the rays of sun streaming through my window I am a cheater, and I didn't kiss him or sleep with him but it was one hundred percent wrong. Not okay. Caleb.

My god. I fill myself an extra large cup of coffee and my eyes still battle sleep. I dozed for maybe three hours, max.

Good luck Caleb.

You guys will do great. 😚

Thanks babe.

See you tonight?

All yours. See you then

All his. Hm. I'm a liar, too.

•§•

head in my work but at lunch I watch a live stream from the courthouse, because the case is so public it's crazy. It's packed in there, and through the eyes of a camera I see both sides of the courtroom, filled with the familiar broad shoulders and hardened faces, criminals. They do a close up on Dad and Daniel and Caleb and wow they look tired, though maybe only to me, because I know them well.

And when the time comes I'm almost at the end of my break but I watch and I don't know what I was hoping for, but they don't say it, whatever it is. The news anchor outlines the defense's case and there is a lot of stuff but not it, not that silver bullet, and I guess that means I'm safe but I just feel guilty.

On Tuesday they will give closing statements and the judge and jury will have their verdict. I don't even know if this truth, these small truths, will be enough.

The thing is, Mario is probably guilty of a lot of crimes, maybe even murder. He's in the mafia, for God's sake. But this crime? He's innocent, and I know that's what matters. It's what's killing me.

My phone buzzes.

You watching this?

Natalia.

Yeah. I feel horrible.

😞 same. Don't, it's not your fault

I'm not so sure

Rosalyn. Stop feeling guilty

Most of this is just bad luck

Its not your fault! 😐

She's forceful and comforting, and it unties some of the knots in my chest.

Yes boss.

Lol Ros we need to go out

some time and have fun you

need to let go of all this

I smile. She'd make a good friend.

You sound like Shauna.

😋 tmrow night at 7

Ill pick you up tell Shauna

we are going to have some fun

Fhinnne see you then

g2g bk to work thanks Natalia

See you

•§•

Caleb comes over I know he's in a bad mood and I don't say anything about the case. I just hold him and let our legs and arms and mouths tangle together, wordless, hard and rough and when we're finished and he tucks me close to his side and we lay there, and everything is just a little bit better.

His fingers are gentle in my hair, and neither of us says a thing. We just stay there, breathing, touching. I feel heavy. It's a mix of guilt and sadness, a kind of need to do something for him and not knowing what.

But he doesn't need much else, besides feeling me next to him, holding me close. And in his arms I imagine being together for a month, a year, years. I try to picture us like that, in the life there is ahead. I think that is what I want, what I should want.

But that part of me, the part that unfortunately, catastrophically, belongs to someone else, wants something different. Imagines a different future, one that I am too ashamed about, too uncomfortable with, to put into words.

And it makes me ache, low in my chest, and if a heart truly feels things, like the weight of an unfair world, mine's hurting way more than it ever should.

•§•

night, I draw him. Caleb. It starts with him asking me about what a fine-arts degree teaches you anyway, and my indignation gives birth to a pencil and a sketch pad.

And let me tell you, I am a very, very good drawer. I laugh a little as he sits in front of me on the mattress, shirtless, trying to keep a straight face. My pencil glides across the page, and I capture the light in his hair, the shadows beneath his eyes and the shape of his cheek. I sketch his neck and the top of his chest, and after five minutes he's already complaining.

"So, how long does this usually take, approximately?"

"You can't rush fine art. Now keep still."

I bite my lip as I draw, and the next time I look up at him he's looking at me, a glimmer in his eye, and I know that expression on his face, the kind of wonder, and it makes me feel so, so guilty.

But I swallow it because he is so cute and so handsome, and with every stroke of graphite on paper my shoulders relax and I breathe easier, and his small, crooked smile is enough to make me tingle from the inside out.

And my God, the way he looks at me. Like I'm the one who's beautiful, magical, like he thinks I'm the world—it's how every girl should be looked at.

Every girl except me, by him. Because if he just knew...

After twenty minutes of drawing and shushing and moaning and groaning I am finished and he takes the page into his hands and is amazed. Truly amazed. Yes, I am amazing. But I am also a piece of shit.

And then, because he gives me that look and tilts his head, and leans in and whispers, and flashes me a perfect grin and puts his hands on me and kisses me just that way, I let him have me again, because I'm totally gonna have my period tomorrow and we will not do this again for a little while.

Maybe then, without his arms around me and him inside of me and me sighing his name, I won't feel like I'm taking a piece of him each time, one that I can never give back.

•§•

night with Shauna and Natalia. Because I don't drink, we hang out at Natalia's place and she buys enough booze just for the two of them, and we watch movies and dance and eat pizza and ice cream and act like teenagers. The rule is no talking about the case, no thinking about the case. No worrying about anything.

I wonder if anyone reading this horrible story believes that could actually happen.

You would be right if you said not a chance.

After about the fifth shot of vodka Natalia is more than a little tipsy, and she and Shauna are singing and laughing in their own little drunk world, and I'm just getting off of a sugar high and wondering what kind of drunk I would be. Happy, giggling, flirty? Or like how I feel right now, depressed and upset, sad and weepy?

The whole night I repressed it because I was having fun, but it's late and the cramps are really bad and I feel dirty and messy and tired. And for no good reason (or maybe all the right reasons) I lay down on the carpet and the tears flow and then soon, all three of us are crying, sobbing, the floor beneath us filling with our sorrow.

And then, because they are drunk and I am tired and sleepy and hormonal we start laughing, and it's contagious and cathartic and yes, you can say it, I am a mess. You'd think I would have let it all out in Nero's arms that other day, but there's still more.

Through the tears, I remember it. Him wrapped around me. My voice hoarse from screaming at him. His shirt, impossibly soft, that I buried my splotchy face in.

When you feel like this, you are brutally honest with yourself. You can tell yourself the truth, because nothing feels real, or, everything feels too real. So I am able to tell myself that I miss being in Nero's arms, that they were warm and strong, that they were comforting.

And I can tell myself that I want to kiss him again, to hold his face in my hands and run my fingers through his hair and feel his grip fervent, desperate, at my waist.

And I can be honest and confess that I'm falling for Caleb, that he is amazing and perfect and yet, somehow this is not enough.

And of course, I tell myself the truth about how I am a criminal. That every day I remain in silence I am breaking the law, that if heaven exists I cannot possibly be going there, that my attraction to Nero and whatever messed up thing we have going on makes me a philandering, illicit, immoral witch who doesn't deserve to have amazing people who love her.

Once, I'm sure, I was a good person. But now, I know I'm not. How can I be?

Whatever the definition of a good person is, I do not fit into it, no no no.

And this is so, so sad, so I cry. Except, crying hurts, and I am so damn tired of hurting so instead I laugh, except that hurts too somehow.

When did life become so messy? How do I get out of this?

How does it end?

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