Page 111 of From Rome, With Hate

I’ve already told Julianna I was fucked up the other night. I was drunk and high, but even I know it isn’t an excuse. I shake my head, knowing there’s no coming back from what’s happened. Reality comes crashing down around me.

The odds are stacked against us. They always have been.

While getting Julianna pregnant was the best thing to ever happen to me, to us, losing our daughter has also given her nothing but heartbreak. I can’t bring myself to look at Julianna, because every time I do, it’s a reminder of the damage and destruction I’ve caused simply by being in her life. I’ve tried to plan a way out from under the clutches of my father and struggled. I thought marrying Julianna was the answer to it all, escaping my father and this damn family rivalry, but every step along the way has proven me that it’s near impossible. The harder I try to step away, the more damage it causes.

Keeping my focus on my Montgomery ring, I shake my head. “No, I have nothing to say. I know what I did with Macy was wrong.”

“Fucking her wasn’t just wrong, Rome.” Her voice cracks. “Fucking her after everything we’ve been through these past few months is what’s fucked up. I thought you loved me.”

“I do.” I snap my head up, every organ inside me wilting. I swallow as I stare at my wife. She used to be full of life. A hailstorm of colors, lighting up every room with one single glance.

I’ve done nothing but destroy her.

“I did,” I correct myself.

I’m a coward. Weak and powerless. But I can’t let Julianna leave here knowing the truth. That I’ve loved her since the second I saw her staring at me over the tops of those books.

“You told me I was the love of your life.” She sobs, tears flowing down her face.

“You were,” I whisper, forcing the words out. I need to end this, reverting back to the way we used to be. Enemies instead of lovers. “But I lied. Now, you’re just a loss. We never should have started this. We’re nothing.”

The sharp inward gasp she takes will haunt me for the rest of my life.

“I hate you,” she grinds out, the veins in her neck popping.

“Good.” I sneer, driving the nail into the coffin.

“I want a divorce.”

I hide the way her statement feels like a punch to the gut. I pause, turning to look out the front window of the cabin. The bridge over the shimmering pond, where Julianna and I got married only a few short months ago is in the distance—a reminder of the naïve hope we had then. A tight ball tangles and weaves inside my chest. Like a fucking pressure cooker, I bite back the urge to stand up and destroy everything in this house. On this property.

This place offered us fucking hope, and now all it’s done is gone to shit.

Despite me knowing I’ve hurt Julianna in more ways than one, I can’t get over the thought of her with Will. The idea of her being with someone other than me, touched by someone else, makes me want to tear my flesh apart.

But I don’t see a world in which divorce wouldn’t put either of us at risk. Getting married was risky enough. We may never break this family curse of ours, but I worry what news of a divorce would do. Not just to me by my father, but what he could do to her, too.

Refusing to allow tears to fall, I grind my jaw, then turn to Julianna.

“A divorce would only stir news and bring attention to the relationship we had. If either of our fathers learned even a hintthat we were together in the first place, it would destroy what little we have left with our families.”

“So, what are you saying? You won’t divorce me?”

“I don’t think we should.”

“Then, what are you proposing?” She laughs despondently. “We stay married but live separately.”

“Yes.” Now I’m the despondent one. I allow myself to turn cold, the way I used to be with Julianna, shutting off every bit of warmth and love I ever felt toward her. It’s the only way she can ever be happy again. “We live our lives as if we’re single. We’re free to do what we want, who we want, live wherever we want. The only time we interact is if it’s absolutely necessary.”

“We live separately?”

“Yes.”

A tear falls as she swallows dramatically. “Fuck other people.”

“Yes,” I’m quick to answer, blurting it out as fast as possible.

She’s shaking, visibly vibrating as she wraps her head around what I’ve proposed. For a moment, I think she’ll shoot my offer down, but she surprises me when she doesn’t. I try not to read into it, knowing there’s no way we can be anything other than enemies.