Chapter 31 Juliette
JULIETTE
The lesson runs long because one of the kids, a six-year-old named Laurel, refuses to let go of the wall.
“You can do it,” I encourage for the tenth time. My knees ache from crouching on the ice. “Just push off and glide.”
“I’ll fall.”
“I’ll catch you.”
She finally lets go and manages three whole seconds of gliding before her feet slip out from under her. I catch her before she hits the ice and she’s grinning like she just won the Olympics.
“I did it!”
“You did! That was perfect!”
By the time I get all six kids off the ice and back to their parents, I’m fifteen minutes late ending the lesson. My phone has been buzzing in my pocket the entire time but I couldn’t check it with kids on the ice. The vibrations against my thigh kept distracting me but I couldn’t risk looking.
I pull it out as I’m walking back toward the locker room, still breathing hard from the cold rink air.
Something’s wrong with Romeo. He never texts like this. Frantic. Desperate. Like the world is ending.
I’m about to call him when I hear a voice behind me.
“Juliette?”
I turn around expecting one of my student’s parents, but when I see who it is my blood goes cold.
Sienna is standing there. The woman from Instagram. The blonde from all those photos with Romeo. Beautiful and tall and looking at me like she knows exactly who I am, like she’s been waiting for this moment.
“Yes?” My voice is steady even though my hands aren’t and my pulse is hammering in my throat.
“I thought that was you.” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m Sienna. I’m sure Romeo’s told you about me.”
“He hasn’t, actually.” I pause. “How do you know my name?”
The smile tightens. “He mentioned you at coffee. We’ve been talking quite a bit lately.”
My heart is pounding but I keep my face neutral. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see Romeo. But since I ran into you first, I thought maybe we should talk. Woman to woman.”
“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“Oh, I think we do.” She steps closer and I resist the urge to step back. Don’t give her the satisfaction. “Did he tell you about our date on Monday?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” She pulls out her phone with manicured nails and a satisfied expression. “Here, let me refresh your memory.”
She turns the screen toward me. It’s a photo of her and Romeo at a Starbucks. He’s sitting at a small table, looking uncomfortable. His shoulders are tight. His face doesn’t have that easy smile he gets with me. “This was Monday.”
Monday. When he texted me he was running late. When he said that traffic was bad.
“We had a great time,” Sienna continues, her voice syrupy sweet. “Talked about old times. About how much we miss each other.”
“That’s not, he wouldn’t—” My voice sounds strangled even to my own ears.
“Wouldn’t he?” She tilts her head, studying me like I’m not getting it. “How well do you really know him, Juliette? You’ve been together what, a month? Six weeks?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It’s absolutely my business when my boyfriend is sneaking around with other women.”
“Your boyfriend? You’re not, he’s not with you.”
“Isn’t he?” She scrolls through her phone. “Look. Here are our messages. He’s been texting me since December.”
She shows me screenshot after screenshot but my vision is blurring at the edges, it’s hard to even see his responses or the dates on the messages.
“I know this is hard to hear,” she says, her voice dripping with fake sympathy that makes my skin crawl. “But I thought you should know before you got in too deep. He’s done this before. Dated multiple women at once. Told each of us we were special.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Then why didn’t he tell you about Monday?” She leans in closer. “He’s hiding things from you, Juliette. And if he’s hiding this, what else is he hiding?”
I want to tell her to fuck off. To defend Romeo and believe that everything she’s saying is a lie.
But I can’t stop staring at that photo. At the proof that he had coffee with her and didn’t tell me.
“You should leave,” I say. My voice is shaking now. I can’t control it.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“You’re trying to break us up.”
“I’m trying to save you from getting hurt the way I got hurt.” She puts her phone away with deliberate slowness. “But if you don’t believe me, ask him. Ask him about Monday. Ask him why he’s been responding to my messages. Ask him why he blocked me yesterday, after months of us talking.”
“Get out.”
“Ask him,” she repeats. “And when he can’t give you a straight answer, you’ll know I was telling the truth.”
She walks away and I stand there in the empty hallway with my hands shaking, trying to breathe around the tightness in my chest.
He had coffee with her. On Monday. And he didn’t tell me.
The Instagram DM flashes through my mind. Had such a good time at coffee yesterday.
It was real. It happened.
My phone buzzes again.
Romeo
Where are you? Please tell me you’re still at the rink.
I stare at the message through tears I didn’t realize were building.
I could call him. Could ask for his side of the story. Could give him a chance to explain.
But I already know what he’ll say. It was nothing. It didn’t mean anything. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.
I need to see him. Need to hear him say it to my face.
I walk toward the locker rooms on autopilot, barely aware of where I’m going. Staff members pass me in the hallway but I don’t see them. Can’t see anything except that photo of Romeo at coffee, sitting across from his beautiful ex.
I find him outside the locker room. He’s pacing with his phone in his hand, and when he sees me his whole face floods with relief.
“Thank god. I’ve been trying to find you everywhere. I need to tell you something—”
“Did you have coffee with Sienna on Monday?”
The relief drains from his face. “What?”
“It’s a simple question, Romeo. Did you have coffee with your ex-girlfriend on Monday?”
“I, yes. But it’s not what you think—”
“You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t mention it—”
“That’s the same thing as lying!” My voice cracks and I don’t care who hears us. People are stopping in the hallway but I can’t make myself care. “You met with your ex and you hid it from me!”
“Because it was nothing! She ambushed me in the parking lot after practice. She said she wanted to talk. I agreed to fifteen minutes of coffee just to get her to leave me alone.”
“And you didn’t think I deserved to know about that?”
“I didn’t want you to worry over nothing!”
“It’s not nothing, Romeo! You met with your ex-girlfriend and you hid it from me!” Tears are burning behind my eyelids now. “How am I supposed to trust you when you keep things from me?”
“You’re supposed to trust me because I’ve never given you a reason not to!
” He’s getting defensive, his voice rising to match mine.
“I made a mistake. I should have told you. But I didn’t cheat on you.
I didn’t do anything wrong except not mention a fifteen-minute coffee with someone who means absolutely nothing to me. ”
“She has photos. She has messages. She said you’ve been talking since December.”
“That’s bullshit! Those messages are her texting me from random numbers for the past day and me telling her I was going to get a restraining order! And that photo is from Monday, the coffee I just told you about!”
“Why were you even responding to her?”
“Because I didn’t want to be an asshole! Because we dated and I thought I could be civil!”
“Civil? She showed me messages where you were—”
“Where I was what? Telling her to leave me alone? Telling her I was busy? That’s not being unfaithful, Juliette.”
“You should have told me she was texting you!”
“You’re right! I should have! But I didn’t because I knew you’d react exactly like this!” He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated, and I’ve never seen him look like this. Wild and desperate. “I knew you’d spiral and assume the worst instead of trusting me.”
“Maybe I’m spiraling because you gave me a reason to!”
“I gave you nothing! I had coffee with my ex to get her to stop harassing me, and I kept it to myself. That’s it. That’s the whole story.”
“Is it? Because she said you’ve been seeing her. That you told her you can’t let her go.”
“She’s lying! Jesus Christ, JuJu, she’s my psycho ex who won’t leave me alone! Why would you believe her over me?”
“Because you lied to me first!”
“I DIDN’T LIE!” He’s shouting now and several people in the hallway have stopped completely, staring. He lowers his voice but it’s still rough, still urgent. “I withheld information. It was stupid and I’m sorry. But I did not lie to you and I did not cheat on you.”
I want to believe him. Want to trust that this is all a misunderstanding, that Sienna is manipulating both of us.
But I can still hear her voice. He’s done this before.
“She said you’ve done this before,” I say quietly. “Dated multiple women at once. Made each girl feel special.”
“That’s not true.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because you know me!” His voice breaks and the sound of it makes my chest ache. “You know me, Juliette. You know I would never do that to you.”
“I thought I knew Garrett too.”
The words hang in the air between us. Heavy and final.
Romeo’s face changes. “I’m not Garrett.”
“Aren’t you? He lied to me too.”
“I. Am. Not. Garrett,” he repeats, each word sharp enough to cut. “And if you can’t see the difference, then maybe we have bigger problems than Sienna.”
“Maybe we do,” I hear myself say.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I need time to think.”
“No.” He reaches for me but I step back. “No, JuJu, please. We can work through this.”
“I don’t know if we can.”
“Don’t do this. Don’t let her win. That’s exactly what she wants, to break us up.”
“You broke us up when you decided to hide things from me.”
“I made one mistake! One! And I’m apologizing! I’m trying to fix it!”
“I can’t do this right now.” My voice is shaking so badly I can barely get the words out. “I can’t, I need to go.”
“Juliette, please—”
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand and it’s trembling. “Just don’t. I need time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know.”
“So what, we’re just on a break? We’re done?”
“I don’t know!” The words come out as a sob that I can’t swallow back. “I don’t know anything right now except that you lied to me and I can’t, I can’t think straight and I need space.”
“Fine.” His jaw is tight. “Take your space. But when you’re done spiraling and you’re ready to actually listen to me, I’ll be here.”
“Romeo—”
“I’ll be here,” he repeats. “Because unlike Garrett, I don’t give up on people I care about.”
He turns and walks back into the locker room, the door closing behind him with a metallic click that echoes in the hallway.
Leaving me standing there alone.
I make it to my car before I completely break down. Sit in the driver’s seat with my hands on the steering wheel, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe.
He lied. He hid things from me.
Just like Garrett.
My phone buzzes. Over and over. The vibrations loud in the quiet car.
Romeo
Please don’t do this.
Let me explain properly. Not in a hallway. Just you and me.
JuJu please. Don’t leave like this.
I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.
I mute my phone and drive to my apartment with tears still streaming down my face, barely able to see the road through them.
He lied to me.
But what if Sienna’s lying? What if she’s manipulating both of us, playing us against each other?
What if I just destroyed the best thing in my life over a fifteen-minute coffee?
What if he really did hide something because he knew I’d react badly? Because I have a pattern of spiraling, of assuming the worst, of letting my experience with Garrett poison everything good that comes after?
The thoughts twist and turn until I can’t tell what’s real anymore. What’s my trauma and what’s genuine intuition. What’s protection and what’s self-destruction.
All I know is that I’m alone.
And it hurts more than anything has hurt in a very long time.
Maybe even worse than Garrett.
Because with Garrett, I realized it meant nothing. But Romeo means everything.
And now I don’t know if I can trust my own judgment anymore. Don’t know if I’m protecting myself or sabotaging myself. Don’t know if I’m being smart or being a coward.
I close my eyes and try to sleep but all I see is his face. The hurt in his eyes when I walked away.
The way he said I’ll be here like it was a promise.
Like he meant it.
God, I hope he meant it.
Because I think I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life.