Page 39 of The Lies Always Told (Baker Oaks #4)
He looks at me, and the pain I feel is instant. I know that look. Pity. Goosebumps crawl over my skin as his sorrow-filled gaze holds mine. He searches my eyes for something. For what? What is it, Gus? Give me a sign, and I will give it to you. What is it you need from me?
“I don’t have a reason other than you have your whole life ahead of you, and you don’t need anything or anyone slowing it down.
You should take the time to be wild and free, not be caught up in a relationship with me.
The summer is over, and maybe we can slowly fizzle out.
You can call me when you need me, and we can escape again if you want. ”
“You want me to be your booty call?” I pace around in the room, ready to break something, ready to scream.
“Nellie, that’s not what I meant,” he says, getting closer to me and grabbing my wrist.
“Then what?” I snap, pulling my hand out of his grasp and slamming my fists onto my hips. His eyes lower to look at my body, and I scoff. “Eyes up here, Gus. ”
“Sorry.” He looks mortified, and I should put him out of his misery, but fuck, if I don’t want to. He deserves to feel whatever it is he’s feeling right now.
“You know what I don’t understand? You could have had my body as much as you wanted, and it would have been fine.
I would have fallen in love with you either way, because how can someone know you and not love you?
But I wouldn’t have dared to hope for more.
I would have given my body to you, but you told me you wanted to get to know me.
You asked me to tell you what I wanted, and I told you I wanted your thoughts, your heart, your soul.
You made me promise, and I meant it. You’ve watched me fall in love with you for two months now.
And you were, what? Lying this entire time?
You asked me about my darkest truth last night—is it too much for you?
What happened to seeing all of me? Did you wake up and think you couldn’t do it?
Did that phone call remind you there are better women out there for you? Older? Less wild?”
“Nellie.”
“Stop saying my name like that! Full stop!” The first tear falls.
Damn it; I was holding it back. He doesn’t get my tears anymore.
He doesn’t get my fears. He gets my rage.
I snatch my shirt from the chair and slide it over my body.
I walk to the closet and pull out a sweatshirt I always wear when I’m out here.
I need to remember to thank Victoria for letting me come here whenever I want, but now, this place might be haunted.
I won’t be able to come back here again and not think about this, about him.
“You could have had it all, Gus, if you wanted it. And if you never did, shame on you for letting me think the opposite.”
“Nellie, please let me talk.”
“No. I’m done. I’ve heard enough.”
“You haven’t heard anything! You haven’t stopped for a second to let me talk.” His voice is eerily quiet, eerily still. How is he able to keep his emotions so fucking contained? How is this not breaking him apart too?
“Will the words out of your mouth be we will figure it out, Nellie? Or maybe, you got it wrong, Trouble ? Or there’s nobody else, Nellie? ” He closes his mouth. I walk up to him, tears burning my eyes.
“You are a coward. You want to love me in secret, behind closed doors, and I deserve better than that. You were appalled when I called you my dirty little secret, and it turns out, that’s exactly what I am to you.
You don’t get to have me when and where you want me, not anymore.
Not after I’ve given you pieces of me I’ve never given anyone else.
I’m done being your dirty little secret. Go ahead, prove me wrong.”
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even flinch.
My words must mean nothing to him. I mean nothing to him.
My heart is about to leap out of my chest. Not for the reason it usually does when I’m near him, but the complete opposite.
It’s breaking in the present tense, loud heartbreak thumping in my ears as my hopes disappear.
“You can’t because you know I’m right. But let me say one more thing. You broke this before we could see if we could make it work. You led me to believe we could be us , just to turn around and slap me with your words—or rather, your lack of them. And now, I’m done. I would like for you to leave.”
“How are you going to get home?” he asks, and I see red.
“You need to leave. You don’t care about me, so let me care about myself. Get out!” How am I going to get home? That’s what he’s worried about?
“Get out!” I scream at him. I sound irrational, but I don’t give a fuck.
“I’m not leaving you here in this state.”
I scoff. “I don’t give a fuck about what you think you should do. I asked you to leave, so leave.” I stomp around him to the front door, grabbing his shoes and dropping them on the steps. “Goodbye, Gus.”
He walks out with his shoulders down, without uttering another word. It’s taking everything I have not to lose my shit, to not beg him to fight back. But it won’t happen, so this is the way it should go. This is the way it has to go.
Gus turns around as soon as he’s on the porch.
There’s a storm brewing in his eyes, but I don’t have the brain capacity right now to deal with his feelings when I’m trying so hard to keep mine in check.
I will lose it, and I will spiral if he doesn’t get out of my sight quickly.
I deserve to deal with my broken heart in peace.
I deserve to cry and wallow in peace. And he deserves to go straight to hell.
“I really didn’t want this to go this way,” he says. There’s something in his tone, the way his eyes look genuinely sad, the way his lips quiver, I would believe him, except actions speak louder than words, and he truly doesn’t want me. At least, not the way I want him. Not the way I need him.
“Goodbye.” I slam the door and run to the bedroom, where I lock myself in the closet, slamming my back on the door and sliding down to the floor. I put my head between my knees and cry. And cry. And cry.
The seconds turn into minutes, and those minutes turn into agonizing hours of repeating the past few months on a loop.
The laughs, the good memories, the intimate moments.
Eventually, someone knocks on the door, and when I leave the closet, I find night has fallen.
The moon shines brightly over the cabin and barely illuminates a path to the front door.
I look through the peephole. What the hell?
I open the door to find Martin, Gus’ driver, standing on the porch with the same serious face he always has.
“Martin? What are you doing here?”
“Good evening, Miss Nellie. Mr. Augusto sent me to take you back home. He asked me to tell you to check your phone, even if it is the last thing you do today. His words are not mine, so I apologize.” I roll my eyes. I’m sure I look stupid, but I don’t have it in me to care.
“Come on in,” I say as I walk back to the room and look for my phone. It’s charging. He must have done that when I fell asleep. A slew of missed phone calls await me, some from Cara, one from my mom, and a few from Bee, with dozens of text messages from all of them combined.
And one message from Gus.
DLS: I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe it, but I mean it. Please let Martin take you home, even if it’s the last thing you take from me. Please.
No matter how angry and sad I am right now, I know I need to listen to him.
I have no way of getting home. Martin must have left Jacksonville as soon as I kicked Gus out for him to have made it here by now.
I grab the small bag I brought and a pair of socks from the drawer of clothes I keep here.
I’m taking one of the pillows with me too, because I don’t want to do anything but sleep, and what better place to do it than in the backseat of a vehicle taking me back to reality?
A reality in which my heart is shattered, and I have to pretend on Monday that I’m whole enough to work with broken-hearted pre-teens.
“Let’s go, Martin. I’m ready to go home.”
We leave, and with every single step I take, I feel like I’m leaving a version of myself behind that I never even knew I could be.
The version of me who believes in love and good things.
The version of me who believes I’m enough.
With me, I take the version of me I was before, a hollow person looking to have a good time when possible, afraid of relenting control and feeling too much.