Dear Diary

11. I NEED TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH

J E R O M E

Tori blinks as if the question I asked isn't registering. Then she says, "Why are you asking me that?"

"Answer the question," I say.

"Did you talk to Samara?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What does she have to do with anything? She knows?"

"Jerome, sit down."

"Answer my question," I insist, trying to maintain my patience. At this point I understand the reality of the situation. She hasn't verbally confirmed anything, but her body language is speaking loud and clear. It's in the fidgeting of her fingers and how she's looking everywhere but my eyes. I always considered her inability to lie with a poker face a plus for our relationship, but now it's only breaking my heart. "Who is it?"

"I can't."

"Can't what?"

"I can't say."

"Dammit, Tori!" I slam my fist into a wall, making her jump. It's not enough to leave a hole, but pain ebbs through my knuckles nevertheless. Still . . . the physical pain is no comparison to what I feel on the inside.

"Calm down," she pleads.

I glare at her, my teeth gritting. I start pacing, trying to occupy myself—keep myself from punching more walls.

"Who is he?" I ask again.

She shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes, and I turn away.

Her face . . .

Even in all my rage, even with all this pain I'm feeling, I can't help but notice how beautiful she is. She's had me in the palm of her hand for so long. I feel bound to her—caged in and brawling with foregin feelings of resentment, anger, and sadness. My heart pounds so hard I feel like it's going to burst out my chest. Damn, this hurts.

I hate how much I love her.

"Rome," she cries. "I . . . I'm so sorry."

I whip around and walk past her to the door. There's nothing more to say if she won't tell me the truth. It's nothing but emotional torment to stand here waiting for an answer she clearly won't give me.

"Don't leave!" she begs as I put my hand around the doorknob.

"We're done, Tori," I croak without giving her a second look. I leave, slamming the door behind me. I get in my car, barely holding it together, and call Samara.

She answers. "Rome?"

"Where are you?" I ask. "Are you still with Gio?"

"No, he dropped me off a while ago," she says.

"Did you already know Tori was cheating on me?"

She goes silent.

"Mara, please answer me."

"Yes, I knew."

"So you've known this whole time? You knew for God-knows-how-long and you let me look stupid? How could you not tell me? I'm your friend and you didn't say shit!"

"That's not it," she says, her voice desperate. "I read something about it in Sidney's diary, but I was in denial. I only recently realized it's true, so I told Tori to confess or I was telling you myself. I swear. You have to believe me."

"I don't know what to believe right now."

I hang up and rev the engine, zooming down the streets until I reach home. I'm no calmer as I walk into my house. I keep replaying the truth in my head over and over.

Tori's seeing someone else.

I know how Ma feels now. Pops cheated on her last year, which is why their current living situations are what they are. All hell broke loose in this house the day Ma found out Pops was seeing another woman. There was nothing but screaming matches for days and all I could do was watch as the remainder of an already shaky foundation fell apart beneath me.

Ma and Pops have always had a rocky relationship. It mainly consisted of Pops wanting things to go his way, and his alone, while Ma almost always disagreed with him. Whether it was about finances or spending time together or even something as petty as what movies to watch. To the rest of the world, Pops is an upstanding guy—a charming, humble school teacher. For us, he was a control freak, and a little on the selfish side. Regardless, that's my pops, and I won't pretend like he doesn't do for me. But God, I wish he'd take a step outside of his own bubble sometimes.

Anyway, according to him and Ma, they're still working on their relationship, just in separate living spaces. Ma moved into an apartment while me and Pops stayed here. I visit her when I can, and she comes over occasionally to spend time with us, though I wish she'd just stay if they're not ending it.

Her being here would be perfect right now.

A text from Samara comes through to my phone. Did Tori tell you everything?

Before I can respond, Pops comes down the stairs, spotting me in the living room. "Hey, son."

"Hey." I do my best to put on the facade that I'm okay, as if I don't want to scream and break stuff right now, but he sees right through me like he always does. He's good at reading people.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

A soreness creeps into my throat. Almost like it's a bodily reaction solely happening to keep me from saying the devastating truth out loud. "Uh, me and Tori . . . We broke up."

A look flashes across his face that I find hard to read. "How come?"

I hesitate. I thought I'd be willing to talk to him, but I really want to keep it all in. It hurts too much to think about, much less explain. "She found someone else."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says, but it almost feels flat. "Did she say who?"

I shake my head.

He puts an arm around me, a somewhat awkward gesture because we usually aren't all that affectionate with each other. "It'll be okay, son."

"I don't know what to do. I love her."

I can tell he doesn't know what to say. He's not the advice-giving type. Maybe I shouldn't expect advice on how to deal with this from a man who's done the same thing anyway.

And maybe this is karma for my own misdeeds in that department.

I pull away from his embrace and announce I'm going to my room. All I want is to be alone.

***

A quick look out my bedroom window tells me I slept well into the night. My stomach scolds me in the form of a low growl for having not eaten anything since way earlier. I sit up and grab my phone. Several texts and missed calls from Tori as recent as five minutes ago. I toss it back onto the bed. I don't want to talk to her.

I can't.

I leave my room, starting for the kitchen but the doorbell rings. When I arrive at the door to peek through the peephole I see Tori standing there. Of course.

Part of me wants to go back upstairs and pretend she doesn't exist. Another part of me wants to open the door and, I ashamedly admit, be in her presence—to look right into her eyes and see if I can find what went wrong in them. That desperate part of me wants to fix whatever it is. Whatever it is that's so wrong with me she had to find it in another. I need to know how I failed when I thought things were finally going fine.

I need to know why I'm not enough.

I unlock the door and slowly open it to reveal her petite figure in the doorframe.

"I need to tell you the truth," she says. "All of it."