Page 72 of The Tryst List
Fuck. I shouldn’t be surprised but…maybe I’ve always known it would come to this.
I’m left staring out the window, the cityscape below suddenly feeling distant and unreal.
Flashes of the past flicker in my mind, taking me back to my days in graduate school at the University of Washington. I was deep into my academic journey, pursuing a double master’s degree in architecture specializing in Sustainable Systems and Design and Materials and Fabrication. The rigorous program demanded seven years of higher education, and I broke my back paying for it.
Working three jobs helped, but I still had close to two hundred thousand dollars in student debt with two years to go.
When a golden opportunity arose—an invitation to study abroad in Rome—not only was it a dream come true, but an opportunity to learn from three European masters. A real resume builder in a competitive field. Unfortunately, three weeks before I was supposed to leave, I hit a financial roadblock. My student aid ran out, and the expenses for the year overseas loomed large, threatening to derail my plans.
Desperation led me to make a decision that haunts me to this day. I falsified a student aid application, forging my father’s signature to secure a loan. In the moment, it felt like the only way to keep my academic and professional dreams alive. The consequences of my decision didn’t hit immediately.
No. The shit hit the fan the morning after I met Jordan. My father, already strained by the constant trouble my brothers got into, tried to borrow money to bail them out of jail. The truth came to light—I forged his signature on a loan I was still paying off, his application was denied, and my actions created a rift that’s never fully healed.
I had no idea the forgery was a felony until that morning. I’ve paid my parents back ten times over but the indiscretion looms like a shadow, threatening to take me down at any given time. Every time they need money, they threaten me. And I pay.
Always under duress…the threat of being turned in, or else.
Filled with a deep sense of shame and regret, I sit in my office until darkness falls. My sordid past weighs heavy on my shoulders and the extent of the vulnerability I’ve opened myself up to feels catastrophic. A moment of desperation in college, born out of a fierce desire to succeed and grow, has come back to haunt me in ways I couldn't imagine in the two seconds it took to forge my dad's signature.
I'm not stupid. If my forgery and loan fraud is made public, it will not only tarnish my professional reputation, but will destroy my relationship with Jordan. I haven't lied to her, she knows about my family stress.
But I left one important detail out.
Because I didn't trust her enough.
No, because I didn't trust me enough.
The irony isn’t lost on me—the very thing I did to secure my future is threatening to unravel it.
I close my eyes, grappling with the emotions swirling within me. Guilt. Fear. A deep sense of betrayal from my own family. My past, which I thought I’d left behind, is a weapon in the hands of my own relatives who should be my refuge but are actually my enemies.
The entire situation is a bitter pill to swallow.
I’ve got to do the right thing.
No matter what the consequences.
Chapter thirty
Jordan
The Next Morning
The sun spills through the windows, casting a warm, inviting glow across the room.
Despite the beautiful morning, I’m uneasy. Unsettled. A little freaked out.
Yesterday had been such a cool experience. Tom Hardy, an actor who starred in a movie which featured LTZ on its soundtrack, finally had time to finish the back piece I’ve been working on for a couple of months. After we finished, Jace and I took him out to dinner. He was so funny and self-depreciating. We had a great time.
Peter was supposed to come, but backed out, claiming a headache. By the time I got back to the condo, he was sound asleep and I didn’t want to disturb him. But I woke up ten minutes ago and he was gone. No note. No explanation. Nothing.
It’s not like him.
Scratch that.
It’s not like him now.
Or maybe it is like him and I’m an idiot.