Learning to Trust: Curtain Falls Read Free

said to himself. It was obvious to me that he worried that his relationship with Roland was deteriorating, that this was just another nail in the coffin.
    I spilled my guts about what had happened with Roland, how he had said he didn't trust me at all at the beginning and wanted to move forward. Mentioning the loyalty test seemed to rub Frederic the wrong way. Was it jealousy I was witnessing? Had he fallen out of favor with Roland?
    I went on to tell about Marcus and how he had been so rotten to me—and how I hoped that someone would give him what he deserved. It made me sick the more I thought about it. Frederic seemed to carefully consider my words, digesting them one at a time rather than as sentences. "There was supposedly ten million in that briefcase," I said.
    "God, only Roland," he said, a hint of humor in his voice.
    "What do you mean?" I asked.
    "That money was burned up. Dissolved. Disintegrated. Only Roland would use real money when blowing up a competitor."
    A weird observation. I hadn't even thought about that.
    I told him about how Roland had taken me into the woods, to hide me from the burdens of society—and the crime I had committed. "He was a perfect gentleman the whole time," I said, the tears starting to flow again. "I just can't believe that I was having a romantic getaway while they were pulling bodies out of the burning rubble of the building."
    Frederic wrapped his arm around me and held me as I cried, the emotional release almost as intense as it had been the first time when my mom called me. I knew I'd never forget this and I'd spend the rest of my life actively wishing that things hadn't turned out this way. It was that thought that made me want to finish the job, to ensure that my efforts weren't in vain —but what else could I do now?
    Something told me that my path was going to become very clear, my choices limited, the outcome fixed. I don't know if it was excess optimism or just the hope that after so much suffering, something would go right. I had grown to hate making decisions.
    Frederic grabbed the entire half-filled box of tissues from the bathroom, pulling it out of the plastic frame on the sink and bringing it to me. "Thanks," I said between sniffles. I blew my nose and realized how cheap the tissues felt. "I'm going to use the whole box right now," I said jokingly.
    "I can get us more if we need them," he said.
    "Maybe." My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten anything since the morning. "I don't really want to eat, but I probably should."
    "Yeah, I'll go grab us some food. I know a good place around here. Keep the door locked, okay?"
    "Sure." He kissed me as I stood up, my lips stiff, yet accepting of his gesture. The door opened and closed, the outside swallowing him.
    I pulled back the comforter and sprawled out on the bed, relieved that I had that moment to myself. There were strange patterns in the paint that had been used on the ceiling and my eyes followed them, looking for an identifiable shapes. It was something I had done my entire life starting when I was young and in my room for time out.
    I'd sit there for the duration of my sentence , just staring at the shapes in the carpet, making up stories in my head about the creatures that appeared to live there. God, I wished I could be that creative anymore. The reality of life had stolen that innocent, free part of me, and in this tense moment, I realized I desperately wished I could have it back.
    Once it fully set in that I was alone, I instinctively thought to grab my cell phone—I was by myself now, so I guess that meant I could call Ramón —but realized I didn't actually need to call anyone just yet. The phone remained off, serving no purpose aside from maybe being a paperweight. I was too scared to turn it on, worried that Roland would call me and I'd have to curse him over the phone and face the consequences—and then he'd show up at the hotel door five minutes later.
    I would have liked to call and tell my mom that I