The Last Summer

sunrises

The next time Julia came to the roof, it was not empty anymore.

The sky had hints of yellow and orange and pink, and the sun peeked over the horizon. Rays of early morning sunlight illuminated the garden enough for her to see the flowers and plants decorating the space, though they were drooping and not as vibrant as before. As Julia shut the door, a breeze blew her hair away from her face, and there was a chill in the air that did not seem to want to go away.

A boy with dark hair stood on Julia's favorite spot, and he neither turned nor glanced at her as she made her way to him. His curls were tucked underneath a cap, and he wore a dark green jacket. For a minute, Julia stilled, remembering the moment she gave it to him as a gift. She thought he had thrown it away.

By the time Julia stopped beside him, she had come to a decision. She had made mistakes that were big enough to have destroyed their relationship, but was it too much to wish that they at least talked to each other? Maybe it was, but he was not running away from her anymore. There was a tiny piece of shattered hope she kept tucked away, but now it was back, bigger and less broken.

Julia started to reach for Rome but then caught herself. Her hand hovered in the air for a miniscule second before she dropped it, shaking her head. She cleared her throat. "The sunrise is beautiful."

"It is." Julia wondered if he would leave, but he stayed still, not even giving her a glance. "I miss the sunrise at home."

Julia did too, but more than that, she missed watching the sunrise with him. She missed them sneaking around. She missed looking for places where they could be alone and be themselves, where they could just be Julia and Rome and not a Montgomery and a Crawford. She wanted to tell him that. It was her fault they had reached this place though, so all she did was look at him and say, "I miss it, too."

Rome kept his eyes trained on the horizon, and Julia sighed. They watched the sun rise and the sky change colors, and a part of her thought she could pretend that nothing had changed, that they were watching the sunrise together like they had done many times before.

But everything was different now. Rome was too distant – farther from her than the several inches that were separating them –and even the world had changed.

The sun was now higher in the sky, and as Julia wished that everything went back to normal, she closed her eyes, trying to bask in the warmth of the sunlight. The heaviness and chilliness were still in the air though, and Julia sighed, pulling down her thin sleeves. Her exposed arms were covered in goosebumps.

She took a big gulp of air as if it was her lifeline and then turned to Rome, willing him to look at her like she was not something he despised. "I cheated on you."

And then it came: eyes that were full of despair and anger. "I know." Unlike the first time she had told him, his voice did not quiver nor shake. "I was there when you told me."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't change what happened," Rome said.

A minute passed, and Julia was almost sure he would leave her again. As her hand skimmed the leaves of a flower, tracing the dew, she shivered and watched him out of the corner of her eye. The seconds ticked by, but he remained unmoving until he finally sighed as if he just came to a decision.

Rome turned to her and asked, "Why did you do it?"

It was her chance to explain, but Julia did not know what to say. She was caught off guard, and her sanctuary in this changing world was fast becoming a place where she could not outrun her past.

"I convinced myself," she said, hoping he could see the regret in her eyes, "that it wasn't anything serious, that we were only having fun, that it's just a fling."

Rome laughed, but there was no humor laced into it – only bitterness and anguish. "Eleven months, Julia. We were together for almost one year."

"I didn't cheat for long," she said and then winced, realizing how it sounded. "I'm sorry."

Rome went back to staring at the horizon. Clouds rolled overhead, and the sun disappeared from their sight. The temperature plunged within an instant, and Julia rubbed her arms. Rome seemed unaffected as he asked, "Why tell me? I wouldn't have found out if you didn't."

"I don't know." It was all Julia could say.

He sighed, adjusting his jacket. "Why bring it up again?"

"I'm not sure," she said, though that was not entirely true. When she saw him last night, the guilt Julia had been trying to bury deep inside had come rushing back. She wanted to tell him everything, including why she had begun hanging out with him, but if she did, there would be no going back. Their relationship would fracture further – would shatter into terribly tiny pieces that would be impossible to put together. She couldn't do it. Even if she was drowning in guilt, she couldn't let herself destroy them further.

Rome shook his head. "Is that all?"

As the sun began to peek out again, Julia hesitated. The early morning chilliness was not helping her think, but when she saw a wilting flower beside her feet, she was jolted back to the present. "I just wanted to apologize again."

He turned to her and then let out another bitter laugh. "You know what's worse? It's that you still keep lying to me."

And for the second time that week, Rome left Julia shivering and alone on the rooftop.