The Truth About Unspeakable Things Emily Myers (love story books to read TXT) 📖

across my tongue, down throughout my body. I feel it trickle down my esophagus, nourishing my insides. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten.

“Of the fifteen, only four would speak to me,” I reveal. “But these women, Kat,” I say, shaking my head. “They range from polar opposite ends of the spectrum. They are brunettes and blondes, CEOs and interns. Some he assaulted in college, others he assaulted through his work, before, during, and after our relationship.”

“One woman . . .” I pause. I place my tea on the table and clasp my hands together once more. “One woman committed suicide two months after the assault. Her friend testified on her behalf.”

“Jesus,” Kat says.

I nod. My eyes glaze over as I remember their testimonies. It was selfish of me to call Beaux, to think that only my forgiveness and empathy mattered. This is bigger than me. I know that. But in that moment, I forgot. I wanted so desperately for this to be over, for Beaux to be out of my life, for Julian and I to try to start anew. I wanted the nightmares and panic attacks to stop. I wanted the memories to fade from my mind. But . . . it’s not just my memories, my panic attacks, my nightmares, and my trauma that Beaux must answer for. I shake my head.

“How could I have been so selfish?” I ask aloud.

“What? How have you been selfish, Emma?” Kat asks. Her face crinkles in confusion. It’s time she knew about Mason and Julian.

“I’ve mentioned that Mason, Julian’s brother, is in town,” I say. Kat nods. I know she heard Julian storm in yesterday and subsequently, what occurred between the three of us.

“Um,” I start, unsure of how to continue. “I . . .” I begin again.

“You’re dating Mason,” she says then.

“What? No! Disgusting,” I embellish.

“Really?” Kat asks. She adjusts herself in her chair. “Then, why was he here yesterday? And why did the two of you let Julian believe you’re together?”

I exhale and drop my head, burying it between my knees.

I can’t think of Julian or Mason without seeing the disappointment and heartbreak written all over Julian’s face. When I broke up with him the first time, I didn’t feel the pain I do now, because I didn’t say or do anything to deliberately hurt him. I told him I needed to work through some things, and I needed to do that alone. I knew that what I was doing was for the right reasons and that eventually, I’d be able to make it up to him. But this? I hurt him in a way that I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to forget or forgive. Even if he accepts why I did it, what if he can’t accept my method? What if we try to work it out, but he’s unable to trust me? What if he always questions his brother? His brother, who is the only family he has left, I tainted their relationship. No, I destroyed their relationship.

I lift my head and look Kat in the eyes. Her lips part as she waits for what I will say next.

“I really messed up,” I say. The hoarseness from earlier returns and this time, I’m not sure the tea will be of much help.

“Julian and I ended things, or rather, I ended things with Julian over a month ago,” I say. My heart pounds beneath my skin. My cheeks flush.

“What? Why?” Kat asks, shocked.

The night of the Creative Concepts Gala, Beaux confronted me,” I tell her. She nods. This much she knows. What she doesn’t know is . . . “Somehow, he’d found out about my intent on seeing a lawyer. He . . .he threatened you and Julian if I didn’t stay quiet and he wasn’t bluffing,” I say. “I know because . . .he told me the truth about Mr. Turnip’s passing and he left evidence of it in Julian’s house,” I reveal.

“What? What truth? What evidence?” Kat asks, leaning forward in her chair. Her eyes squint in anger. Her lips part in anticipation.

I know I shouldn’t tell her. It will only hurt her, but . . . can’t keep keeping these secrets.

“Beaux killed Mr. Turnip, Kat. He killed him in retaliation . . .” I say, stopping myself. “And he left the checkerboard in Julian’s house for me to find. You and I never could find it. Even Julian looked for it. And there it was, beneath Julian’s kitchen sink. And I’d just been there the night before. We’d washed dishes together. I saw underneath his sink and there was nothing there but cleaning products,” I ramble.

Kat sits silently. Tears fill her dark blue eyes and trickle down her tanned cheeks.

“He found his way inside,” I say. “At least twice, maybe more. Nothing but my silence would’ve stopped him from doing it again.” I drop my eyes to my knees. “I’m . . . I’m sorry to tell you, like this, or at all. I just . . . I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

“I . . . um,” Kat chokes. She wipes her eyes and sips her tea. Her hand shakes as she lifts the glass to her mouth. “I just . . . I can’t believe this,” she finally says, covering her face with her free hand.

“I know,” I say, moving to hold her. “I know.”

I bury my head in her curly red hair and hold her tight as she cries. It takes a lot for Kat to break, and this? This is a lot.

After a while, Kat regains her composure and I take my seat. Her face is red and wet. The veins in her temples throb. The sight makes my own head ache.

“So, you . . . you broke up with Julian to protect him,” Kat finally says.

“Yeah,” I say. “But um . . . all I did was hurt him.”

I tell Kat about Mason helping me out of Club Gent and why he was here yesterday. I even tell her about Mason’s past and why Julian was so upset when he caught us together.

“I used Julian’s assumption as a way to push him further away, hopefully out of New Orleans altogether,” I say.

“Is that really what