Lie to Me

  Was that while she was with me? Did she reply to him while she was in my apartment, when we were out together? God, that's going to drive me crazy.

  "I don't think there's been anything going on between them, Kent."

  "Of course there's not. That's not the point though. He's clearly been hassling her if she didn't want him around, but she didn't tell me. I could have helped. Why couldn't she tell me about her past? It doesn't make sense. None of it was her fault, so why couldn't she talk to me?"

  "It was painful for her; you could see that. Sometimes, it's easier for us to try to forget or to ignore what causes us the most harm. This wasn't just her ex who hurt her, but also her whole family. She cut everyone off and moved away from all that she knew. That must be so painful."

  My blood turns to fire. "I don't care! She knew she could talk to me. I gave her so many opportunities. I asked, but I didn't push, and I gave her space when I thought she needed it. What did I get in return? A load of bullshit about parents who just never gave a shit, no serious ex, and no siblings."

  "Not everything is as black and white as you would like it to be. I understand your need for honesty after Freya, but not being ready to open up about something and purposefully deceiving isn't the same thing."

  "Might as well be."

  He sighs. "Tell me this, did she ever offer any information about her family or anything about her past, or was it when you asked?"

  "Asked," I growl. Where is he going with this? "Just because she didn't sit me down and offer the bullshit doesn't mean it's not bullshit."

  "It means that she didn't want to lie, but she wasn't ready to be honest."

  Shaking my head, I close my eyes and take a breath. He's not getting this. "I think you should go."

  "Is that because I'm making sense?"

  "No, it's because you don't get it."

  Dad stands up, and although I don't look at him, I know he's looking at me. "Kent, I will love and support you always, but I'm going to leave because, right now, you don't get it, and I know the best way for you to get to grips with the situation is to be alone."

  I wait until he closes my front door, and then I allow the weight of the grief I feel to swamp me.

  "Fuck!" I shout, jabbing the heel of my palm into my splitting chest.

  It hurts so fucking bad; it takes my breath away.

  Gripping my glass, I launch it at the wall and bellow, "Fuck!"

  31

  Savannah

  Monday lives up to its reputation by being massively shit. And it's only seven a.m. I was supposed to be okay after the weekend. Obviously, I wasn't going to be, but it was nice to have the hope. Now, I have nothing.

  I'm empty.

  I walk down the street toward work. Although it's a little chilly, the sun is shining, and the sky is blue. Inside, I feel ice cold. No amount of sun is going to lift my spirit. My stomach churns with nerves of seeing Heidi again. She was so nice to me on Saturday, but I haven't seen her since--my choice. I needed to be alone.

  She would have had time to speak to Kent, and she might be angry with me now, too.

  That doesn't sound like Heidi, but he's her brother, and family is the most important thing to her.

  I check my phone as I walk. No messages from Kent.

  Taking a deep breath and swallowing heartache, I open the three texts from Simon. Two from last night and one from this morning.

  Simon: You can't ignore me forever. I need to talk to you.

  Simon: Call me! I'll meet you anywhere, but this will happen.

  Simon: Fucking call me, Sav!

  My pace slows, the closer I get to the studio. People behind me tut and shift around, walking off ahead. I would usually apologise, but today, I'm not feeling very British. They can all go to hell for all I care.

  The studio door opens, and Heidi steps out.

  I stop as she looks around. Is she stopping me before I go inside? Am I out of a job now?

  No, it's too early for me to officially be there, so she wouldn't have known I was coming. She's probably just getting some air.

  Frowning, Heidi gestures with her arm for me to go to her.

  Shit. I place my feet on the floor but don't feel like I'm moving as I take the last few steps. I need this job.

  "Hey, how are you?" she says when I'm in earshot.

  "Um ... " Awful. I just want to go home, curl up, and give in to the pain.

  She tilts her head to the side. "Come on in and talk about it."

  I step through the door. On her desk are two drinks and a plate of pastries. Kent used to bring me pastries in bed.

  "You didn't have to do this," I say, dropping my bag down on the floor beside my desk.

  "I wanted to. I figured you'd probably not eaten much over the weekend."

  No, nothing actually. The thought of food makes me feel sick.

  I sit down opposite Heidi's seat and pick up the coffee. "Thanks."

  Heidi sits and rests her elbows on the desk. "Have you spoken to Kent?"

  Shaking my head, I drop my eyes. "I tried but ..."

  "He's stubborn, and it sometimes takes him a while to come around, but he will come around."

  "I just want him to talk to me, let me explain."

  Heidi hands me a paper plate and points to the pastries. I put my drink down and take a cinnamon swirl. My stomach rumbles at the thought of food.

  "I saw him yesterday," she says, tearing apart a croissant.

  "How is he?"

  She purses her lips, thinking about how honest she should be.

  "You can tell me, Heidi."

  "He's ... I've never seen him like this. He was upset when everything came out with Freya, but I think that was more the betrayal. This time around, he's a mess, and he misses you."

  Okay, maybe I don't want to hear it.

  Closing my eyes, I whisper, "Heidi, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt him."

  "I know, and he'll understand that soon, too. I can't believe you kept it all in for so long though. How did you cope?"

  "I ..." Frowning, I search my mind to think of what I did. What did I do? Besides moving away and cutting all ties, I didn't do anything. What is there to do anyway? There's no single action that can repair a broken heart. Over time, scar tissue glues the pieces back together, but it's never the same.

  "You haven't dealt with it?"

  "I'm over my family, believe me."

  "I don't mean your family, Savannah. I mean, the miscarriage."

  No, I haven't thought much about that.

  Shrugging one shoulder, I rip another piece of pastry. "There's nothing I can do."

  "Do you think you should talk to someone?"

  "No, I'm fine. It was a long time ago, and I let myself cry and be sad at the time. I'd rather not go back now." I raise my eyes.

  Honestly, that's kind of bullshit. I haven't really dealt with it, I guess. I mean, ignoring something probably isn't classed as dealing. There's nothing I can do now though. I can't change what happened any more than I could have stopped it from happening back then. I have to accept that and move on.

  "Fair enough. Will you tell me more about your parents? I thought you were estranged."

  They only got the basic details on Saturday because I was having a hard enough time with breathing under the crushing grief of Kent breaking up with me and talking about my baby.

  "We are."

  She smiles. "You know what I mean."

  "They were as shocked and heartbroken as I was when they found out about Simon and my sister. They were angry with her, disgusted that she could do that to me, and while I would never ask them to choose between us, not even after she did that, I did want them to back me up."

  "They didn't at all? You said they were angry with them at first."

  "Yeah, at first, they were. They supported me when I cut her out of my life, but I think they assumed it would be temporary--like, if they waited a few weeks, everything would go back to normal. Two weeks later, they started talking
to me about forgiveness. We found out shortly after that they were still seeing each other."

  "What did your parents do then?"

  Despite the total lack of humour, I laugh. "Nothing. I don't know if they spoke to her about it, but they never let on if they did. I was told that I should get past it, or I would break the family apart."

  "Fuckers."

  This time, I laugh for real. "Yeah, I thought that, too."

  "So, what happened then?"

  Smirking, I shake my head at her. "My old life is like a soap opera to you, isn't it?"

  She sits back in her seat, unaware that she was inching in with every question. "I'm sorry."

  "No, it's okay. Talking about it actually isn't as bad as I thought. I wish I'd realised that weeks ago when Kent was telling me about his ex."

  Heidi waves her hand. "Forget him for now. What happened?"

  I pop some pastry in my mouth and chew fast. "Well, a month after we found out they were still together, it all got to be too much. My parents had accepted them, even going out to dinner with them. I couldn't get my head around it, and no amount of talking to them made them understand, so I left."

  "How?"

  "Walked out the door."

  She deadpans, dropping her hands to the desk. "Not funny."

  "I packed my bags while my parents slept and my sister was at Simon's, and I left."

  "You didn't tell anyone?"

  "I left a note. There's no way I could have had that conversation with them; it would have gotten messy. I had to go without anyone knowing. It was the best decision I ever made."

  "And you've had no contact since? How did Simon know where you lived?"

  I turn my nose up. "I think he must have hired a private investigator. Before that, it was only messaging on my old Facebook account. Then, he started calling me a couple of months ago, even after I changed my number. I texted him back, very clearly telling him that I wanted him to leave me alone and to never contact me again. He turned up once, but I thought I got through to him that I'm done. Then, he turned up on my doorstep again, and you know the rest."

  She slowly shakes her head. "Unbelievable. Do you know what he wants?"

  "He said on the phone that he wants to talk. I thought telling him to bugger off would do the trick, but apparently, he's fucking stupid."

  "The fact that he cheated on you makes him fucking stupid."

  Yeah, I'll give her that.

  I pop another piece of cinnamon swirl in my mouth.

  "How long should I leave it before calling Kent again?"

  "When did you call him?" she asks.

  "Saturday after you and your mum left ... and Sunday," I reply, wincing. "I know you said not to, but I had to let him know that I was sorry and that I wanted to explain. Anyway, he didn't answer, so I sent a super-long text."

  "You explained everything over text?"

  "No, not all the details. I just told him how much I regret not being braver and sharing my past with him and that I would tell him everything if he gave me the chance."

  And I told him I loved him. I've never loved anyone the way I love him, and it will kill me if he can't forgive me. How do you get past something like that? It was stupid of me to allow him all of my heart, but he has it, and there's nothing I can do now. If he doesn't forgive me, I'll just have to accept the fact that he will always have some of it.

  "He's always been headstrong. We never could tell him something; he had to realise it by himself."

  "There an average timescale for that?"

  Heidi's eyes fill with sympathy. "Hard to tell, as it varies. What are you going to do next?"

  "I don't know. I don't want to give him space. I want to show him how sorry I am. It feels wrong not to call or text."

  "I get that."

  "Do you think I should go to his?"

  Heidi opens her mouth and then closes it.

  I slump back in my chair. "I'm guessing that's a no."

  "Well, he's never been in love with someone he's angry with, so it might work."

  "You don't sound sure of that at all."

  She shrugs, eyes filling with sympathy.

  I lay my head back and give in to the crushing ache in my chest. Only Kent can heal me now.

  32

  Savannah

  I walk home from work on Friday, and everyone around me is buzzing for the weekend. It's been approximately one hundred forty-four hours since I last saw Kent, and each one of those has been a struggle.

  Now, I'm facing a whole weekend on my own, missing him again. I had the briefest taste of what a relationship should be, and I suppose I should just be grateful for that. But I can't be when I know we should be together. Kent isn't supposed to be the one who got away. If I can't manage to fix this, nothing will make it right. I won't get over him even if I do learn to live without him.

  Before Kent, I didn't really do much anyway, so I should be used to being alone and spending my time indoors reading or binge-watching TV, but I'm not.

  It's even harder than adjusting my time from when I was with Simon.

  It's a lovely autumn evening, too, even if a little chilly. The sun is still shining, and on the opposite side of the road, people are already sitting outside bars, having drinks. Soon, the clock will change, and the nights will draw in earlier. I welcome it right now.

  I speed up, almost keeping pace with a man in front of me, jogging. I want to be home where I can curl up and not see anyone until Monday.

  Jesus, I'm such a loser.

  Letting myself into my flat, I slam the door behind me and bolt it. Pressing my forehead against the wood, I close my eyes. Tears sting behind my eyelids.

  Missing Kent hurts so bad; it takes my breath away.

  Thankfully, I have food, so I don't have to go out or have anyone deliver anything. My heart tightens the way it used to. I can feel myself sinking to a place I fought so hard for so long to drag myself out of. Darkness storms my mind, reeling me in.

  He's not going to forgive me. I'm going to be alone.

  Why did I ever think it was a good idea to start a relationship with him?

  Things were so much easier when I had nothing. I shouldn't have let myself be happy again. I was perfectly fine before Kent, but I got greedy, wanting more.

  Some people aren't supposed to have more.

  I open my eyes, stand up straight, and kick off my shoes by the door. Walking straight to my bedroom, I peel off my clothes to get changed into something comfortable enough to slob around the apartment in.

  Kent still has a few things at mine, and I'm tempted to put his T-shirt on, but that's asking for trouble. It would be nice to get through the day without breaking down like a baby.

  Though I cried for a solid hour when I woke up this morning, so I've already failed.

  I have a clean pair of leggings and an oversize T-shirt, which isn't Kent's, so I throw those on and chuck my work clothes on the end of my bed. I can't be bothered to do any washing right now.

  My apartment is eerily quiet as I head back to the kitchen to find alcohol and food. I have a couple of bottles in my fridge that don't need to still be there come Monday.

  I'm so sad, spending my weekend eating, drinking wine, and watching Netflix alone.

  But those are the weekends I was used to, and I liked them perfectly fine before.

  I open a bottle and pour a large glass. In the freezer is a microwave meal that'll do, so I chuck that in and watch the little black container turn around through the door.

  Max and Toby wouldn't let Kent do this. He's probably out or at the very least having the two of them over to his to drink. I hope he hasn't gone out. He's hurt and angry, and if he's drinking in a bar, he might find someone.

  Shit, that hurts.

  If he doesn't forgive me, that will happen eventually, but I'm definitely not ready to hear about him shagging some girl anytime soon.

  He wouldn't.

  I know he did before--he's slept with a lot of women--but I hon
estly don't think he could right now. Or maybe I'm just hoping.

  The microwave beeps at the same time someone knocks on my door. My buzzer never rang, so I guess it's either Heidi or someone already downstairs had opened the door. Or Kent. It's unlikely, but my heart thuds at the hope of it being him on the other side or the door. It's been six days, and he might have cooled down enough to at least want to talk.

  If I could just get him to listen, maybe we could sort all of this out. So far, he's not returned any of my calls or replied to the daily messages I send.

  I don't dare think about the worst-case scenario. He has said before that he wouldn't forgive being lied to. It's the one thing he wouldn't do.

  Don't think about that.

  I put my glass down on the counter and pad slowly toward the front door with my heart in my throat. My hands tremble as I unbolt the door and open it. I hold my breath, but then my shoulders sag.

  "What do you want, Simon?" I ask, folding my arms as my stomach sinks. This is the first time he's tried to see me. I deleted my Facebook account the night Kent walked away from me.

  "I want to talk. Please can I come in?"

  "No."

  "Come on, Sav."

  "There's nothing I want to say to you."

  "I don't care. You knew that, eventually, this would catch up with you. We have a lot to talk about, and I'm not going anywhere until you let me in."

  "Then, I guess you're going to have to live in that hallway."

  I drop my hands and grip the door, ready to slam it in his arsehole face, but he kicks his foot out, blocking me.

  "Ten minutes is all I'm asking. You must have questions," he says, leaning a little closer to me.

  I had questions, but at the time I needed answers, he wasn't talking. My sister was the one shouting her mouth off about how she was sorry but that they had fallen in love. Apparently, neither had wanted to hurt me. Like, what the hell did they think would happen? Even if Simon did want her and not me, why didn't he break up with me first? I could have gotten past that in time. It wouldn't have been easy, watching my ex move on to my sister, but that would have been a hell of a lot better than them cheating.

  My chest burns, filled with fresh anger for an old pain. "Fine, fucking come in, and explain it all," I find myself saying.

  I'm breaking a rule I made the day I left, but I realise I actually want to hear this. I want to know what excuse he has for why he treated me so badly.