Green stones fell around me like rain as I tumbled to the ground, and the last thing I saw was her tortured face as I tumbled into oblivion.
I could see it all written on her face.
Horror, pain, fear…but most of all—relief.
Complete and utter relief.
Chapter One
Everly
Secrets.
They had the ability to destroy lives, obliterate relationships, and sabotage even the strongest partnerships. Big or small…it didn’t matter. Even the tiniest white lie had the power to corrode—to shatter and dismantle everything you loved.
I’d carried a secret so big, for so long, that sometimes I felt physically weak from its weight. I had thought I could carry its burden to my grave—that eventually its truth would die along with me.
But, secrets never die.
They live on far longer than we do, and they always find their way to the surface.
Mine certainly did.
Sitting alone in the apartment I shared with my fiancé, I gently rolled the smooth green stone between my thumb and forefinger, over and over, remembering the day it was returned to me.
In all our years together, I’d never seen August so cold. So lifeless.
It had frightened me to my core.
But I still hadn’t told anyone. It had been three days and I had yet to tell Ryan or Sarah about what had taken place in the bridal shop. As far as they knew, August had rudely interrupted my bridal appointment to tell me he had his memories back—that was all.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Why hadn’t I elaborated? I didn’t want to admit my shame. I couldn’t share this secret, my darkest lie. What would they think of me? I was the reason August had been in that hospital bed for two years. And the worst part? I’d lied about it—to everyone.
Even to those closest to me. Even August.
I was the worst kind of human.
I knew Ryan would tell me the opposite. He would comfort me as I told him the truth, holding me as I shared my story about the awful truth from that night.
There was no mugger.
There was only me.
* * *
“911 Dispatch. What is your emergency?” The words rang clear through the speaker of my cell phone as I held it with both hands, looking down through blurry, tear-soaked eyes at August’s lifeless body sprawled out on the ground.
Oh God, what had I done?
“Is anyone there?” The woman asked again.
“Yes,” I managed to say. “Please send help. My boyfriend has been injured.” My voice cracked as the words fell from my lips, becoming reality.
“What happened? Was there an accident? Were you attacked?”
Glancing around the dark alley, I felt my head nodding in agreement before I even said the words. “Yes, we were attacked. Please, come quickly.”
It had all been so easy. No one ever doubted me. And I never gave them reason to. I was a broken, sobbing mess as they took August away in the ambulance, and then stood by him for days until they broke the news that he might never wake from his coma.
The coma I’d put him in. I’d sat with him in that lonely white room, watching him become so frail as the days seemed to pass without end. His doctor mistook my guilt for grief and suggested I try to move on with my life. I was young. August would want me to carry on without him.
I remembered the doctor rubbing my back as he delivered the ultimate truth.
“It would take a miracle for him to wake up at this point,” he’d said with utmost care. I’d nodded, thanking him for his candor. I’d looked down at August, wondering whether I wanted a miracle.
Would he be the same? Or different?
I’d decided in that moment, I couldn’t wait around to find out—it hurt too much. So I’d taken the doctor’s advice and moved on, finding my own apartment and job. And eventually—Ryan.
Gentle Ryan.
He would tell me that horrible night was just an accident and I’d panicked—an intense moment of weakness. He’d soothe my tears and insist none of it was my fault. Everything would be forgotten and swept under the rug and we would move on. Life would go on as usual.
But I didn’t want it to. I didn’t deserve his kindness or empathy. I needed someone to scream and yell at me for the all the suffering I’d caused. I needed to pay for the life I’d stolen.
Because when it came down to it, I’d taken a life.
And I’d walked away, allowing everyone to believe I was the victim of this story when in actuality, I was the criminal. The perpetrator.
The real monster.
“Hey, I was wondering where you were,” Ryan’s warm familiar voice filtered through the room as I closed my hand over the stone and slowly sunk it beneath the blankets, meeting his friendly gaze.
“Hey,” I answered, feigning sleepiness. I stretched my neck back and forth, making an elaborate show of my yawn for effect as the tiny green stone burned hot and bright in my hand. “I was just trying to take a nap.”