Chapter 30 Julianna
THIRTY
JULIANNA
I’ve been here a million times before.
The grounds are just the same and the trees are nearly identical to the ones overlooking my own mother’s grave site.
Rome stands by the open car door, holding his hand out to me. I grab it before stepping out.
“What is it, Lark?”
He must sense something is off. In truth, it has been ever since Marcus turned into the wrought iron gate, taking us down the winding path, farther into the cemetery.
“Um.” The last thing I want to do is make it about me, but he deserves to know. “This is the same cemetery my mother is buried.”
“No shit.” Rome’s shoulders fall as the air leaves his lungs in one big breath.
“Yeah.” I swallow around the lump growing in my throat and follow the familiar headstones and trees in the distance. I point in the direction of where she’s buried. “She’s over there.”
Hard to believe the Capuletis and Montgomerys have been this close all along. Maybe we aren’t so different after all.
“All this time. I seriously had no idea.” He works his fingers over his mouth, staring off into the distance before pulling back to me. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I understand.”
“No.” I quickly snatch up his hand and give it a squeeze. “I want to.”
He gives me a tight smile before peppering my forehead with a kiss. “Afterward, we can stop by and visit your mom.”
I pull away from him and slip my arms around his waist, holding him close. “I would love that.”
We’ve only been back to the city for two days, but Rome and I have already made major progress in changing the circumstances of our past. Unlike before, we’re determined to live the life we’ve always dreamed of.
My entire friend group knows about us. Holt knows the truth about our marriage and how we lost our baby, and thanks to Rhys O’Connell, we’re no longer living in fear, hiding from those trying to kill us.
The only person left to tell is my dad.
I shove the wave of nausea that thought causes me and hold onto Rome’s hand as he leads us to his mother’s grave site. Marcus hangs back by our car, allowing us to have this moment ourselves.
Tree branches sway with the warm breeze, the sun shining down on us, but as we make our way over to Elena’s burial site, I can’t help feeling the pull of my mother’s in the distance.
The closer we get to Elena’s, the more aware I am of just how close to the Capuletis’ side we are.
It’s as though there’s been an invisible line drawn through the cemetery, marking each family’s territories.
Once we reach Elena’s grave, I side-eye the hill where my mother is buried. It’s only about one hundred feet from Elena Montgomery. What the fuck?
I stay silent as Rome steps forward and gently places his tattooed hand on top of the shiny, black granite.
“Hi, Mamma,” he whispers with a strained voice. He sniffs and works his fingers over his chin. “I know it’s been a long time since I’ve come to see you, and for that I’m sorry. I’m also sorry I couldn’t protect you that night.”
I squeeze Rome’s hand, my heart growing heavy with every word passing his lips, because it isn’t just hearing the pain in his voice.
It’s knowing I’ve felt the same way about my own mother’s death, too.
Guilt for not being able to stop it or protect the one person who dedicated their life to protecting you.
Rome turns his attention to me, his blue eyes glassy with tears.
“But I refuse to live my life with a vendetta I have no reason to uphold. I’m tired of being controlled by circumstances out of my control.
I tried for years to leave but, looking back on it, I always had some excuse for not truly following through.
Now, it’s time. It’s time to do what I should have done a long time ago. ”
A tear slips from my eye as he turns back to face his mother’s headstone. “It ends with me, Mamma. This hatred ends with me.”
Rome gently slips his hand out of mine and uses his other hand to slide the large ring off his right index finger. The Montgomery family signet ring.
He pinches it between two fingers and slowly sets it down on top of the granite.
I tuck my bottom lip under my teeth, letting the silence settle between us, but a flicker of black in the corner of my eye catches my attention.
I look up to see my dad standing in front of my mother’s grave. His back is turned toward us, but he’s unmistakable. His build is like Holt’s, but my father has white strands mixed into his rich brown hair.
“Rome,” I whisper, tugging on the sleeve of his black suit. “My dad is here.”
I feel Rome move beside me, his hand quickly landing on the small of my back.
“We can leave,” he says in a hushed tone, bringing his mouth close to my ear. “Marcus isn’t far with the car.”
“No.” I snap my head to my left. My eyes drop to the ring on top of Elena’s headstone, then into my husband’s gorgeous eyes. “This ends today. Once and for all. This is all that’s left standing between us.”
He presses his mouth into a tight line and nods once. If he’s apprehensive or nervous about confronting my dad, he doesn’t let me see it.
Rome doesn’t quite stay in step with me as we cross the cemetery. He stays slightly behind, to my left, and I’m thankful for it. I’m not certain it would make a difference whether he was beside me or holding my hand, but maybe this way won’t be as shocking for Dad to see me with a Montgomery.
Once we’re within twenty feet, I inhale a deep, solid breath and calm my erratic heart before saying, “Dad?”