Losing Romeo (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

As Rosaline climbed the stairs, her chest constricted tighter, her pounding pulse getting louder and louder in her ears. Not only was she worried about what the letter said, the thought of seeing Juliet’s room—a room she’d never breathe in again—was kind of creeping her out.

Her hands shook as she gripped the doorknob and eased open the door. The shaking got worse as she looked around. The bedroom was all innocence. Lace, stuffed animals, and lots of pink.

A giant lump formed in her throat.
I still can’t believe she’s dead.

And the details she’d learned since coming to Verona only made everything worse. Juliet had taken her father’s gun and waited for Romeo at the gazebo in the park, their secret meeting spot. He’d made it to her, but because the cops were closing in and he knew he’d spend the rest of his life in jail, he’d already taken the poison. So Juliet used the gun on herself.

A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach as she pictured the scene the cops had come across.
Don’t think about that right now. Just get the letter.

The dresser drawer squealed as she pulled it open. She moved socks and underwear around until she saw the envelope. Her name was printed on the outside in large swirly letters, with a heart over the
i
.

The crinkling of the paper sounded loud in the quiet.

Rosaline read about how Juliet loved Romeo from the first instant she laid eyes on him. How of all the people she’d spoken to about their love, Rosaline was the one person who seemed to get it.

Talking to you, I realized you must’ve felt love like I have. I wish you luck with your love. As for mine, I fear the only way to be together is in death. Please explain to my parents that I love them, but that I loved Romeo so deeply my heart had a hole inside it without him. My breaths meant nothing. My life meant nothing. From the moment we met, he and I were destined to be one.

Please tell our family that they need to get over their hatred of the Montagues. That we can all find a way to live together. I know Romeo’s pure heart extends to the rest of his family as well. As I look forward to the afterlife with him, I am not saddened. Yes, our love story is tragic, but the sorrow I felt without my Romeo was devastating. So devastating that the true tragedy would be living without him. So I bid all my loved ones farewell. I will see you all on the other side. I will be there with my Romeo.

Juliet

The hole in her heart. Her breaths meaning nothing. Her life meaning nothing. Rosaline wanted to be mad and bitter about what happened. Now her emotions were a confusing, swirling mess. Romeo and Juliet had felt so passionately about their love that they thought it was worth dying to be together. And there was something tragically beautiful about that.

Rosaline folded the letter.

Now all that was left to do was tell Juliet’s parents.

When she came downstairs, though, Lawrence was the only person still in the room. “Where’d everybody go?”

“To your grandfather’s house. I told them I’d drop you there.” He glanced at the envelope in her hand. “So? Does the letter say what we’re supposed to tell them?”

“It’s more addressed to me.” Some of the things she didn’t exactly want to be made public—Juliet’s parents might blame her as much as she blamed herself, and that would only create more of a rift. “I’ve got an idea. But we’re going to need some help. Got a cell phone I can use?”

***

Dad met her at the steps of the church. Lawrence stood a couple of feet back. He’d agreed to speak, too, but he was apprehensive about the plan. Rosaline was apprehensive as well, but when you’ve only got one idea, you try it out and see what happens.

“What’s the emergency?” Dad asked.

Lawrence was a hard sell—Dad was going to be borderline impossible. “I want you to call a meeting with all the Capulets and Montagues.” Rosaline gestured behind her. “Here at the church in two hours.”

Dad’s mouth simply hung open for a moment. Then he lifted his hand and felt her forehead. “You must be coming down with something.”

“I am,” Rosaline said. “Guilt. Determination. Anger. Frustration. Take your pick. But you’re the only person who’s got a shot at making this happen.” She put her hand on his arm. “You said you wanted to make a difference in Verona. This is your shot, Dad.”

“This might ruin my shot. You want me to call these families who want to kill each other together?” He crossed himself. “In the church no less.”

“I want them to realize what their years of blind hatred has cost them all. They need a wakeup call, and I plan to give it to them. Well, me and Lawrence.”

Lawrence ducked his head. Unlike the rest of the people who’d be coming in shortly—God willing—he was a pacifist. They’d need that, too.

“I’m also hoping to give them some peace,” Rosaline said. “Peace about the children they loved. Children who ended their own lives to be together.”

Dad scrubbed a hand over his face. Like the rest of the Capulets, he was devastated by Juliet’s death. No doubt the Montagues were just as devastated by Romeo’s.

Rosaline clasped her hands in prayer position. “Please, Daddy? There’s no way I can do this without your help.”

“We’re going to have to lie to get them all here.”

“I’m not opposed to that. We’ll just scoot away from the church a little more to avoid the whole being-struck-down thing.”

The tiniest of smiles touched Dad’s mouth. Then he shocked her by pulling her into a hug, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe. “You know I love you. And I’d rather you be with someone I despise than end your own life.”

“I know. That’s why I want to stop this cycle. No doubt we’ll face stubborn resistance, but if even a few people listen, it’ll be worth it.”

Dad dug his phone out of his pocket. “I guess it’s time to see how convincing I can be.”

***

I may have underestimated the amount of yelling.

At this rate, she and Lawrence would never get a chance to talk to the families. Rosaline cleared her throat and leaned into the microphone. “If you’ll all quiet down we can—”

“He would’ve been pardoned!” Romeo’s mother shrieked. She jabbed a finger at Uncle Marco. “If
your
daughter hadn’t have manipulated him into killing himself.”

“Our daughter?” Uncle Marco shot back. “He’s the one who drank the poison. I’m sure he also convinced her to bring the gun. Our baby—gone because of
your
son!”

Both families erupted, angry accusations flying. Forget the lying. This screaming and swearing in the church was what was going to get them all struck by lightning.

Dad leaned between her and Lawrence. “Everybody shut up!” His voice boomed through the microphone, loud enough it made that awful screeching noise after. People threw their hands to their ears, and all eyes turned to the front.

Before she lost her chance, Rosaline gripped the microphone. “Romeo and Juliet wanted Lawrence and me to talk to you, to explain why they did what they did.”

A hush fell over the room. Finally, she had their attention. It made her throat close and her heart hammer way too fast, but she charged on. “They were in love. If it weren’t for our prejudices, every person in this room, this could’ve been avoided. But we can’t change the past, no matter how much we wish it weren’t true.” Regret and another stab of guilt lodged itself in her chest, and she had to clear her throat and tell herself to focus on the message.

“Lawrence and I are going to tell you a story about love, old grudges, and desperation. And then we all need to take a moment to ask ourselves how many times we’re going to let it happen before we find the strength to change…”

By the time she and Lawrence got done speaking, the formerly rowdy crowd was hushed and somber. There hadn’t been a big hug-fest, but there hadn’t been a brawl either. Rosaline hoped that was a good sign. Only time would tell if the Capulets and Montagues could exist in peace.

Dad draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m proud of you, honey. For standing up for those who couldn’t talk. For trying.” His eyes met hers, and worry swam in the brown irises so similar to hers. “And now I need a favor from you.”

Between the vulnerability in his voice and everything he’d done to help her that day, she found herself nodding, ready to give him whatever he asked for.

“I need you to stay in Verona,” he said, and her heart sunk.

Anything but that.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Dad dropped his arm from Rosaline’s shoulders and exhaled, deep worry lines creasing his forehead. “It’s your mother. She’s been depressed for a long time, and the deaths in the family have made it worse.”

“Depressed?” Yes, everyone was sad because of the recent tragedies, but she’d never thought of Mom as depressed. Before she left Verona they used to shop, go to the spa, and eat dinner at fancy restaurants. Mom seemed fine then.

“She puts on a happy front when she has to, but some days she doesn’t even get out of bed. I didn’t realize what was going on at first. She’d pick fights with me whenever I was home, so I stayed away. You said yourself that things were different—our family wasn’t what it used to be. I even thought…Well, once you got into trouble…”

He looked down at the ground, and she lifted her shoulders to shield herself, knowing whatever he said next would sting. “I thought the best thing was to send you away. For your mother’s sake and for yours—I thought it’d give her less to worry about and she could finally get better.”

Stinging didn’t cover it. Rosaline’s insides felt as if they’d been rearranged all wrong and then told to keep on working anyway. Basically he was saying he assumed she was the source of all Mom’s stress. The fact that she might’ve been—or at least had attributed to it—added to the stockpile of guilt she had left over from Juliet’s death. If another ounce entered her system, she’d explode from the weight of it.

“I’m sorry,” Dad whispered, clearly seeing how much his words hurt. “But I was so wrong—you leaving has made her worse. Now she doesn’t have you to cheer her up or spend time with, and she’s retreated so far into herself…”

Dad’s eyes glistened as tears filled them. Never in her life had she seen him cry, and it scared the hell out of her. “I’m so worried. I need you here, Rosaline. I need you to help me figure out how to help your mother.”

The image of the Mercer Estate, motorcycles, horses, and Bryson flashed through her mind. Her heart clenched as she pictured Bryson’s face. Longing filled her as she felt the ghost of his arms around her.

What Romeo and Juliet had done was unfathomable.

Again she experienced empathy for them, though. With the desperation closing in on her at the thought of not being with Bryson, the emptiness that’d never be filled by anyone else opening up a hole in her chest, she understood more than she ever wanted to.

He was more than her boyfriend. He was her best friend. He made her happy when she was sad. He loved her even though he’d seen her at her worst.

She pressed a hand over her heart, hoping pressure would help with the ache. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her feelings for Bryson aside and thought of her family. She’d put her parents in a difficult place, getting arrested. Maybe she didn’t understand why exactly they sent her away, but she knew they loved her.

If Mom got bad enough, she might consider suicide, too. Rosaline could never live with herself if that happened, always wondering if she could’ve helped somehow.

Even with those thoughts in her head, her mind still held on to Bryson. On being in Arkansas with him, where she could see his lopsided grin and sit in the garage for hours as he worked on bikes. On all the plans they’d made that would be impossible if she stayed in Verona. Kissing him from here would be impossible, too, and she’d gotten addicted to having his lips on hers.

But he and I can meet up again eventually. The separation won’t be forever.
Breath-robbing pain radiated through her body, spreading from her chest outward.
It’ll just feel like it.

“Rosaline?” Dad put his hand back on her shoulder, looking into her eyes with his desperation-filled ones.

She clenched her jaw against the sob in her throat, working to compose herself so she wouldn’t burst into tears when she opened her mouth to answer. “Of course I’ll stay and help Mom.”

The relief that flooded his features made her want to cry for completely different reasons. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. All the weeks of resenting him and now she clung on, hoping they’d find a way to work together to fix everything, starting with Mom.

Staying in Verona won’t be that bad. Clara’s here, the beach is here. My home, my family—everything that’s made me happy for most of my life.

The last thing she felt was happy, though. She’d made promises to Bryson she couldn’t keep.

And now she was going to have to call and tell him that she wasn’t coming back.

***

Bryson dropped the wrench, wiped his hands on his jeans, and dug his ringing phone out of his pocket. He grinned like an idiot when he saw Rosaline’s name on the screen.

“Hey, baby,” he answered.

“Bryson.” She breathed his name more than said it. Something in her voice sliced through his excitement.

He tensed, gripping the phone until it dug into his palm. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” A shallow breath came over the line, unsteady enough to ratchet his panic up to the next level. “I’ve got to stay in Verona.”

“For how long?” he asked, telling himself this wasn’t happening.

Silence stretched between them. Each second that passed increased the worry pressing against his chest until it threatened to crush his lungs. “You don’t mean…?”

“My family needs me.” Rosaline explained that her mom was fighting depression, and with everything that had happened with their family, she and her dad were worried it’d get worse. She told him how she was going to try to help her father undo past damages and rebuild the community.

“It’s all going to take some time. Bryson, you have no idea how badly I want to be there with you.” The way her voice cracked shot him right through the heart. “But I’ve got to do whatever I can to pull my family back together. I understand if you don’t want to do the long-distance thing, but I hope that you’ll still keep in touch, because I don’t think I can make it through this without being able to talk to you.”

He closed his eyes, her words sending sadness and happiness through him all at the same time. She wasn’t coming back. But she wasn’t breaking up with him. “You’re the only one for me. We’ll make it work.”

“Really?” Her voice squeaked, and it was so painfully cute he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her.

They talked about how they were going to stay in touch. Calls, emails, instant messages—they’d do it all. He told her about the bikes he was working on and how the doctor had squeezed him in for surgery so he could get it done sooner—while trying not to think about how she wouldn’t be there to keep him from losing his mind from boredom.

If only he’d known the last time he’d seen her that it would be the last for a while, he would’ve….Well, he wasn’t exactly sure. Held her longer? Definitely taken more time to kiss her perfect lips, that’s for sure. He blew out his breath, already feeling the void of not having her around.

“I gotta go,” Rosaline said. “Promise me again that we’ll make this work.”

“I promise, baby.”

“I love you.”

He’d never tire of hearing those words. They’d help him be strong, through the long days filled with nothingness. “I love you, too.”

He hung up the phone and lay back on the hard cement floor, letting the cold soak into him. He felt numb. Too heavy. Empty.

At least nine more months apart. He groaned. This was going to suck.

An awful thought popped into his head. He wanted to push it away, but it was already creeping in, taking hold.

Rosaline was a beautiful, outgoing girl who could easily land someone else. And if that happened, he’d have to feel this emptiness forever.