The Truth About Unspeakable Things by Emily Myers (people reading books txt) 📗

called or come to see you. But I’m guessing there is a reason why they didn’t and why you didn’t.”

I nod and sip at my wine. “Yeah,” I admit. But it’s not a reason I’m ready to share. “Anyway, I’d . . . I’d like to be supportive of my sister. Hell, I’d even like to be jealous of her. But I . . . I don’t have much hope in relationships anymore and it makes it hard to support something that I see straight through,” I say. “I mean, he’s almost thirty, and she’s barely twenty. He probably has their whole life mapped out for them without even asking her opinion. He’ll use her,” I say. “She’ll be his young, beautiful wife who stays at home and raises a whole hoard of kids while he’s out with his buddies drinking, golfing, and doing God knows what else. And that will all be fine and well, for a while,” I tell him. “But one day Eva is going to wake up and realize she’s tired and lonely and her husband will be so used to getting his way, he won’t know how to compromise or communicate. And they’ll either get a divorce or wish they would have,” I reveal. “So, if that’s all you have to look forward to, then why even try in the first place?” I ask.

Julian nods and relaxes in his seat. I can tell he has a few thoughts he’d like to share but doesn’t want to overstep.

“Go ahead,” I tell him.

“Hmm?” Julian asks.

“You can speak,” I say, finishing off my second glass of wine.

“Okay,” Julian says, leaning in once more. “First, don’t get mad at me. Two, I don’t presume to be right. I just—I feel like you’re projecting your feelings and past trauma onto your sister and her relationship.”

“Wow,” I say, taken aback. “Don’t hold back.” Not that he would.

“No, hear me out,” he says. “You make good points. I mean, it’s true that their age difference could pose a problem,” he admits. “But it’s also true that it could pose no problem at all. It’s also true they could get divorced, but that’s true for any married couple. And while the divorce rate is high, half of marriages still last. But it sounds like you know that. It sounds like you’re more worried about her being controlled by this man and you’re worried she’ll be stuck in an unhealthy marriage. And I take it that worry comes from your own experience with relationships that haven’t worked out or made it, as you say. Maybe you just need to experience the right relationship to know that there’s more than hurt and resentment and miscommunication and broken promises to be had,” he tells me. “And maybe, just maybe, your sister has found that for herself.”

I absorb his words and replay them in my head. I want so desperately to believe him and I . . . I feel myself starting to.

“I take it you’ve never had your heart broken before?” I ask.

Julian is quiet for a moment and I mentally scold myself for being so ignorant. Of course his heart broke when his parents died. It’s just a different type of brokenness.

“I take it you have,” he finally says.

Chapter 14

Monday morning sun wakes me as it drips through the glass windowpanes above my bed. I moan and stretch, reveling in the first good sleep I’ve had in this room since the night of my attack. The past week blurs together behind my closed eyes. Julian kissed me, and even though I wanted to make myself believe I didn’t want him to, I did. And Saturday night, as we said our goodbyes, I wanted to reach out to him, to pull him back to me and allow our lips to touch once more. But I didn’t.

I open my eyes and roll to my side, enjoying the contrast of the box fan’s breeze against my toasty arms. It’s 9:00 a.m. and I can already tell it’s going to be a scorcher.

With a small burst of energy, I force myself out of bed, brush my teeth, and search for clean leggings and a bra. I’m not sure if Demetri will be joining us for breakfast and I’d rather not find out half-dressed.

I put on my clothes and find my reflection staring back at me. Her blonde curls are messier than normal, a sign of a good night’s rest. The skin beneath her eyes is brighter despite the additional makeup she was forced to wear over the weekend. And her lips are . . . pinker, plumper. They tingle as I move my hand from my thigh to touch them. I imagine Julian—

I jump as my cellphone dings from beneath my pillows. It’s probably Fran alerting me of my new assignment. My article on Julian dropped today. Oh, crap! The article!

I tear through the feather-stuffed mounds until I find my phone. Ignoring the text from an unknown number, I go straight to my app for The Hub and scroll until I see LA Music Mogul On His Plans to Save New Orleans Trademark, Lucid Records. I take a breath and click to view.

When LA music label, Cole Creative, purchased New Orleans trademark record shop, Lucid Records, the sounds of demolition rang in the ears of patrons everywhere. After speaking with Cole Creative Co-owner Julian Cole, I’m pleased to reveal the tune has changed.

Cole speaks highly of the shop, noting its bones and soul could only be found in the great city of New Orleans. While there are plans to make a few modest upgrades to the store, the main goal of Cole Creative in purchasing Lucid Records is to restore the shop to its former glory.

During the interview, Cole was kind enough to reveal a secret space hidden beneath the surface of the shop. In the 1920s, the space was used as a speakeasy, a place for drinks, dancing, and live music beneath the very streets we walk every day. Illegal at the time, no records were kept of the speakeasy’s