Ms. Calloway (Book 2 in the For Better Or Worse Trilogy)

Chapter 12

      Butterflies. So many butterflies. Blue. Orange. Yellow. Green. None that I know the names of, but all of which are as different as the next. Stepping inside is like stepping into the world of Alice in Wonderland. Otherworldly. Mushroom stools, a colorful rocking chair, a caterpillar shaped bookcase, an assortment of toys placed meticulously around the room, and butterfly painted letters hanging from the wall, spelling EZEKIEL. These are the details I find behind the forbidden door in Roman Berkshire's bachelor pad. From all the baby photos hanging on the walls, this room feels like it's somewhere between a baby room and a shrine.

     From all the possible things this room could have been, this was not what I expected. I'm staring at the large block letters and those baby photos, taking in the child's room around me, while Roman shares his story from the doorway. This is one of those stories that you read in horror books or watch in those thriller movies. Definitely not something that I would hear back in Maywood. Those horror stories just didn't happen back in our small town. But this, this is real to Roman. These events are common in his dangerous world. No one bats an eyelash. Another Tuesday.

     He tells the story with a voice as cold as ice. Much similar to how I imagine Amelia must have spoken on a regular basis. I quickly realize it's a disguise to make himself seem stronger than he actually feels telling this story. That ice cracks a bit as he describes the state he found his son in. His voice wavers, telling me that he's doing everything in his power not to be swallowed by the emotion that must be flowing in while he shares this part of his life with me. Thankful that I have my back turned to him, I allow quiet tears to slide down my cheeks. One after the other. Looking at the photos of the smiling and giggling boy, it's hard to imagine the same one described in Roman's story. It's not until the end of the story that he hesitates for so long that I'm tempted to turn around. But before I can, he begins the ending. By the way his words shake, at the very least, I know he isn't proud of his behavior. It doesn't make it any easier to hear nor imagine, but it makes it easier to know that he's human. Because if anyone else had heard this story, they would think otherwise.

     My hand flies to my mouth to silence any sounds that might escape as I listen to him describe the way he killed his wife. Killed the woman who took his child's life. It's violent. Ruthless. Terrifying. There's not many times that I think about how it would feel to be a judge. I also never thought about it enough to be thankful not to be one. With a story like this one, how can someone really believe the world is so simple as black and white? At one point in time, I was one of those people. Everything was either good or bad. Meeting Roman has changed everything. The world is gray. Nothing is simple. Especially the man standing behind me. An eerie stillness descends over the room, preoccupying the space between us. The ball is in my court. Either I walk away from this mess or I give him the benefit of the doubt.

     Do I believe him completely? Sure, he's lied about plenty since we've met. But for once, all the pieces are falling in place and it's all making sense. James didn't lie. Roman did kill his wife. Just not in the way he made it out to be. No one knew the truth. No one, but Scarlette. And now, no one, but me. I do believe him. I do believe he's trusted me enough to share this deep dark secret with me. This might make me the biggest idiot on the planet, but I decide to listen to my gut.

     The only way I find fit to end this suffocating silence is spinning on my heels and throwing my arms around him. By the way he stumbles back, a moment of hesitation passing and then wraps his arms around my waist, he's just as surprised as I am. I didn't think. I just acted. I can't remember a time in my life I've ever done that, but he brings out that side of me that I never knew existed. All I wanna do is comfort him in the way he hasn't since the loss of his child. People didn't look at him feeling sorry for his situation, but as a monster who felt no remorse for his wrong doings. There are still so many unanswered questions, but for now, I'll sit knowing that Roman Berkshire is not the monster that others, or himself, think he is.