what love is.”
“Cash, I mean it. Get off me!”
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.
My hands fisted at my sides. Traitorous waves of anger rolled off me. My body shook, vibrating down to my core.
I snapped.
Pushing him off of me as hard as I could.
“The fuck, Journey?!”
He tried to grab me, but he wasn’t fast enough. I jumped off the bed to get away from him.
I was numb.
Cold.
Though finally...
I could breathe.
Standing on my own two feet, I screamed out, “Why do you do this to me?! Why do you put me through this?! Why do you keep doing this to yourself?! I don’t understand. Please, just help me understand!”
He bowed his head.
I didn’t hold back, even though I knew the next words spewed out of my mouth would kill him and probably make him spiral further out of control.
I spoke my last truth,
“I hope one day I forget you.”
Chapter 29
“Don’t plant your bad days they grow into weeks, weeks grow into months, months into years. Before you know it you’ve spent your existence living a bad life.”
-Tom Waits
<>Journey<>
He stood up from the bed, tall and defiant. Singing, “Dear Diary.”
I stumbled back, eyes wide open.
“Once upon a time, once upon a time, once upon a time ... why did you start writin’ in third person, Journey?”
“You read my journals?”
“Answer my question.”
“Answer mine first.”
“There was a girl with long golden hair who had the bluest, truest eyes that turned white when she cried.”
“You had no right to read my journals! Who the hell do you think you are, invading my privacy like that?!”
“What other choice did you give me? You kicked me in the balls and hauled ass out the door!”
“How’s does it feel, Cash Motherfuckin’ McGraw?! Not so good when you’re the one being left behind?”
He shook his head in disappointment. “You’re really gonna stand there and pretend like you haven’t fuckin’ lied to me?”
Oh God, no.
“How much of my journals did you read, Cash?”
I waited on pins and needles for him to answer. Barely hanging on to the last bit of my sanity.
“Enough to know the truth, baby.”
I stepped back, and he stepped forward.
“Were you ever gonna tell me, or were you just waitin’ until you started showin’?”
“Stop it!”
He was over to me in three strides, getting right in my face. “Do I look like I wanna be yelled at after what I found out today?!”
“Cash ... I mean it. Stop it,” I clenched out.
“Oh, now all of sudden we can’t talk ’bout what you’ve been hidin’?”
I stood taller, not knowing what to say or how to reply.
“How long have you known?”
My eyes widened, my heart beating profusely with what he was about to say. I didn’t think I would be able to live through it.
Not with him.
Never with him.
I stepped back, and he stepped forward again.
“Huh? How long you been lyin’ to me?”
Another step back, another step forward.
“Were you ever gonna tell me?”
Yet another.
“Why did you lie to me, Junie? Did you think I couldn’t handle the truth?”
Two more steps.
“Is this why you found me? Why you came back to me?”
My back hit the wall, and I instinctively placed my hands on his chest.
“Please, Cash ... please don’t say it.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t hear it come out of your mouth.”
He rubbed his nose against my mine. “How long have you known?”
Tears slid out of my eyes, my lips trembled, and my body shook. I was going to be sick.
Cash didn’t miss a beat, singing, “My life changed in a split second. Erratic. Impulsive. All with one word. Positive,” from my journal entry. “Tell me, Junie. I wanna know how long you’ve known”—he leaned in close to my lips and spoke with conviction—“you carry the dementia gene?”
And the glass house ...
Shattered to the ground beneath our feet.
<>Cash<>
“How do you stay strong for everybody when all you want to do is fall apart?” I continued singing her words out of her journal. “What do you do when you know you’re going to forget your life? Do you live...” I paused, kissing her lips. “Or do you die? Is that why you came to see me? ’Cuz you chose to live wit’ me?”
Fresh tears poured out of her eyes as she nodded, falling apart right before me.
“That’s why your parents were okay wit’ you goin’ on tour wit’ me? Isn’t it? They know.”
She nodded.
“How long have you known, Journey Pierce?”
She sucked in a breath, weeping, “Since I was sixteen-years-old.”
The agony was clearly written across her beautiful face. As if she was reliving the day all over again.
I jerked back,