“What? No. No, no, no …” My jaw hung in the air. Lies. What was wrong with her? It suddenly made me question everything I’d read up to that point.
He raped me again. I let him. I bit his face. His bitter blood tasted like a tiny bit of revenge. Then he nearly suffocated me with a pillow. Why did he stop? …
I want to die … We agreed I would die …
Ronin needed me today. I needed him too. I wore a pretty dress with my best lingerie underneath it. I wonder what Evelyn wore to seduce Graham? I guess nothing lasts forever. Not even lifelong friends …
I felt him at my back, turned on, begging me to stop. I couldn’t stop. And if he’d known about Graham and his wife, he wouldn’t have wanted me to stop. I take away his pain. All of it …
His hand on my breast …
Sliding between my legs …
He took off his shirt …
Kept on his pants …
I hated the material between us. I wanted to feel him inside of me, but he couldn’t go that far …
We held each other for hours …
When I awoke he was gone …
We hurt Evelyn. And maybe she deserved it. But it felt awful. I am awful …
I want to die …
Tossing the journal aside, I ran to the bathroom and heaved in the toilet, a cold sweat beading along my brow, my heart racing so fast it felt ready to explode through my chest.
After rinsing my mouth, I wobbled on unsteady legs back to the bed. Sitting on the edge, I stared at the journal, unsure if I could read another word.
But … I had to keep going. If Ronin took his life because of the words in that journal, I owed it to myself and to him to read every last word.
Graham beat me within an inch of my life. I’m blind in one eye. My jaw is certainly broken. And I lost a tooth. But I don’t even care about my condition. He told me the woman in the sex video was not Evelyn …
Not. Evelyn …
She will never forgive me. What I did was unforgivable. I hate Graham for lying to me. Still, I hate me more …
Today I will reunite with my mom and dad …
“NO!” I covered my mouth quickly to hide my complete breakdown, dropping the journal on the floor. I grabbed a pillow and cried, sobbed, nearly died in that moment. What if? What if Lila and Ronin were both gone? How could I live in that kind of world? How could I be a good mom if the people who loved me the most in the world were gone?
I scooted off the bed onto my knees and picked up the journal with shaky hands and tiny sobs racking my whole body.
It’s time …
A special note to my very best friend, my true other half, my sister, my family, my life—Evelyn. If you’re reading this, I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for the accident, for Ronin, for not being what Graham needed me to be. I don’t blame him for loving you. You are everything good about life. Please find it in your heart to forgive Ronin. Today … I will set him free. He will truly be yours again in every way. I love you, Evie. I’ll give your mom a hug, and we’ll look forward to seeing you again someday. But take your time. This life of yours is nothing to be rushed. Live it. Love without regret. But please … please … forgive.
Forever your favorite lesbian lover, Lila <3
My body shook violently as I muffled my sobs with my hand over my mouth. I let Graham into my life, and he destroyed everything.
Blank pages followed her final entry to me. Until … the very end. On the last two pages there was a list: Reasons for Bruises.
“Oh my god …” I cried more, blurring her long list of … lies. All the things she told people to explain her bruises. Some of them were crossed off, like tripping and dislocating her shoulder and fracturing her wrist. A tennis ball breaking her nose. A bookend falling on her face. Self-defense class injuries. Leukemia …
Before I could deal with my grief and sort it from my anger, Graham knocked on the door. “Are you okay? I thought I heard you yell just a minute ago.”
I stood, fueled by pure rage. When I opened the door, Graham didn’t get one word out before I smacked his face so hard I felt the burn clear up to my shoulder.
“What the fuck, Evelyn?” He covered his cheek as I stormed past him, hugging the journal to my chest.
He deserved to be arrested. To go to prison. I couldn’t let him get away with it.
“Stop! Where are you going?” He chased me down the hallway and grabbed my arm, spinning me back around.
“LET GO OF ME!” I screamed, hoping his security people outside would hear me.
Graham instantly released me and held up his hand, confusion lining his forehead. “Okay. Okay. Just tell me what I did?”
“You killed Ronin! You murdered Lila! You killed your own child! You raped her and beat her, you SICK FUCK!” I cried even through my anger.
“That’s not what happened.” He shook his head. “Ronin fucked her in my library. I can show you the tape. Then you’ll know. We married the wrong people, Evelyn. It’s you … it’s always been you.”
I started to speak, but I couldn’t. When I turned to go down the stairs, to call the police, he grabbed my shoulders and forced me back around.
“Let me go!” I wriggled.
He tightened his grip. “Please calm down. I would never hurt you. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Don’t you remember all the things I did for you? I sent you flowers and wrote you poems. I bought you everything. I saved your family. You owe me something, Evelyn.” Anger escalated the emotion in his words. What started as a desperate plea ended in a very threatening tone.
I shoved him as hard as I could, dropping the journal to the ground. He came at me again. “You will love me.” He narrowed his eyes—eyes so dark and unrecognizable.
I jumped to the side, but he fell forward, tripping on the journal or maybe the edge of the runner rug. Before I knew what was happening, he tumbled down the marble stairs. All the way to the bottom.
Not a word escaped my mouth. I didn’t move for several seconds. My gaze stayed affixed to his limp body on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. A slow pool of blood oozed along the tile around his head.
No tears. Not for Graham.
No rushing to call 9-1-1. Not for Graham.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
Me. It was just my breath. Not his. Not Lila’s. Not Ronin’s.
Four friends, two lovers, one unimaginable tragedy.
I picked up the journal and smoothed the pages that were wrinkled. Then I hugged it to me and descended that long, hard, rigid staircase, being careful to not trip and fall. At the bottom, I stared at Graham’s eyes—fixed, vacant, dead.
“You should have loved Lila more.” I made my way to my purse that I’d dropped at the front door, and I called 9-1-1. “There’s been an accident.”
Completely numb from my heart’s reluctance to keep beating, I waited for the police and ambulance to arrive. They carried Governor Graham Porter’s body out in a black bag as an early morning media frenzy ensued around sunrise.
His parents.
Security.
People who worked close to him.
The house swarmed with people in shock, trying to figure out what happened. The location of his wife and my involvement. I gave my statement. Then I handed over the journal, knowing some very personal things about me and Ronin were in those pages. My only two requests: they find Lila (her body I feared) and they return the journal to me.