“Thank you,” I say as I hurry up the stairs. I knock on the door, trying not to sound urgent or distressed so he doesn’t worry. Though he may anyway because how did someone get up here?
Miles pulls the door open. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are not as bright as I remember, with dark bags beneath them.
Fuck. I did that. I made him feel this way. It tears my heart in two.
“JJ? How did you get up here?” he asks, his expression turning slightly annoyed.
“The door wasn’t shut all the way,” I say without hesitation.
His brows raise.
“Can we please talk?” I add before he can ask more questions about the door.
“I don’t—”
“Let me rephrase—can I talk? I need to explain, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d listen. And I know I don’t deserve that, but I won’t lie to you—I need this.”
My whole plan is based off Miles’ kindness. If I pushed him too far, he may not have any left to give. I really hope that isn’t the case.
There’s a flash of anger in his eyes before his shoulders sag. He nods and moves for me to come in.
I pace, watching him from the corner of my eye as he stands there by the door. Sad and alone. I stop and bring my gaze up to look at him fully, wanting to go to him. Hug him. Kiss him. Apologize. But that won’t fix anything. What we need to do is talk. Empty apologies and physical stuff won’t make a difference.
“I told you there was something I needed to tell you, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet,” I start. He nods. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it now, but I have to. I need to get thisoff my chest and explain what’s going on and why I am the way I am, but I need you to promise me something first, and I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but I really need you to hear me out because you deserve the truth.”
“What’s the promise?” he asks, his voice raspy. Tired. His shoulders are hunched, and as he steps deeper into the living room, I note that he’s paler.
“Just listen until I’m done.” I step closer to him. “That’s it. I need to get it all out, and I need you to hear all of it, so it makes sense.”
“Okay,” he says simply, moving to the couch to sit.
I wish I could be more like him… accepting and willing to hear people out. He doesn’t jump to conclusions. He keeps an open mind. If the tables were turned, I’m not sure I’d have even let him in. Miles is a better person than me.
He holds my gaze. I need to speak now, to explain everything that’s going on, but for a moment I wonder how we got here. How did this turn so serious? When? How am I standing here, ready to spill secrets I’ve kept for almost my whole life?
“When I was twelve, I watched my father kill my mother and then kill himself,” I say. The words come out emotionless, which makes me feel like shit. I’ve only spoken those words out loud one other time before—to Franklin when I was eighteen and we’d just met. I thought telling him my deepest, darkest trauma would help us connect—I thought he’d understand me more. But all it did was give him a weapon to use against me.
Miles gasps. “JJ, that’s awful. God, I… I don’t even know what to say.”
I nod and run a hand through my hair, starting to pace again. I don’t like thinking about that day, but this time I need to.
“Both of my brothers and I were there. My father made us watch. He told us that if we didn’t sit on the couch and keep our eyes on him and see what he was going to do, he’d kill us.”
“And you believed him?” Miles asks.
“Yeah,” I say through a scoff. “He was a mean drunk… and he was drunk all the time. Violent. So yeah, we believed him.”
Understanding crosses his face. “That’s why you’re a firefighter? To save people? And Nash, that’s why he’s a cop?”
I nod. “Yeah. And Hollis… he’s still trying to figure it all out.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “But what does this have to do with us? With the other day? I’m sorry you went through that, JJ, but it doesn’t excuse your behavior.”
My stomach drops, but I have to keep going.
“I know that, Miles. I just wanted to share this part of me with you because I’ve been hiding a lot of things, and this is one of them. I don’t like talking about it, but it’s important for you to have all the pieces so you can understand me a little better. So you can know me. Because that’s what I want.” I clear my throat, the emotion thick. “I want you to know me, and I want to know you. This is the only way I know how to do it. It probably sucks, but it’s all I have right now. It doesn’t excuse my behavior, I know that. And, uh… what I’m going to say next is worse.”
His eyes widen slightly, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.