Page 47 of The Lies Always Told (Baker Oaks #4)

TWENTY-ONE

DEEP END

Deep End by Birdie

Nellie

School was normal, just another day, but I didn’t feel normal.

I felt restless, so I drove. I drove to the place where I feel the most like myself without driving for hours to the cabin.

It seemed like it took both forever and not long enough at the same time to get to Amelia Island, where I swam today.

The pool wasn’t going to cut it. I needed the ocean, so I took the hour drive.

Neither the swim nor the drive were long enough to calm me down.

Not long enough to forget about the fact that I’m hung up on Gus like a teenager, and I need to get over it or forgive him.

So, I swam. I swam for about an hour, and now, I’m sitting on top of my beach towel, air drying but not ready to go home yet.

Me:

Facetime, anyone?

Bee:

Can’t. Working late tonight. Sorry, boo.

Victoria:

Study hall for me. Sorry, Nells.

I miss them, and I feel like all my relationships are dwindling.

I just saw Bee; we talk on the phone every day, but it’s not the same.

At work, I’m fighting hard to step out of Cara’s shadow and stand on my own as more than Nellie, the genius child half the faculty taught years ago.

Even my parents’ diner feels off lately.

I feel like the light inside me is slowly dimming, and I hate it.

Going swimming often helps, but today, everything just seems heightened by the weight of the world, my sadness, my anxiousness, and missing Gus.

I do know something that will make me feel better: wine slushies and fries.

I dry my body and slide the dress back on.

I walk up to the beach restaurant with the swing by the bar.

They serve wine slushies and the best sweet potato fries around.

A beachy view, a swing, the salty breeze, carbs, and frozen wine. Instant mood booster.

I’m trying to relax and only pay attention to my own body rather than much around me.

But every man I see, I have to do a double take to make sure it’s not Gus.

Every laugh I hear, I want to know if it’s his.

I’m losing my mind, clearly. I’ve had this ominous feeling all day.

A sixth sense, of sorts. Nothing concrete.

I can’t even put my finger on it, but it’s sitting heavy in my gut.

The warm air wraps around me as I walk through the tables in the outside area.

The low hum of conversations mixes with the clink of glasses as the sun slowly dips toward the horizon, casting golden and purple hues over everything.

My senses are going into overdrive. Laughter rises in bursts, making me move my head from table to table, noticing the different people in conversations.

The smell of food and sea salt and the golden rays of the sun are capturing my attention too.

It’s beautiful and happy, and I feel like a rain cloud walking around.

As the sun slides lower, the sky turns pink and lavender, I sit at the bar and wait for the bartender to take my order.

I use the time it takes for him to return with my slushie and food to ponder the kids at school.

Cara always says that even if you leave the school behind, it doesn’t leave you, and I couldn’t agree more.

I’ve only been doing this for a few weeks, but I think about the kids from my internship to this day.

Bella’s worries, Xavier’s anger, Ana’s struggles, and Cody’s sadness and home life haunt my thoughts as I sip on my slushie and eat my sweet potato fries.

At least it’s them and not a certain handsome millionaire asshole who won’t leave my brain.

An hour goes by, and the sun sets completely, but I had to stay to watch the moonrise and let the wine slushie work its way out of my system.

One glass won’t do anything, but I’m still hyper-aware of driving, even after just one glass.

My rule of thumb is one glass of wine, thirty minutes and four glasses of water before I get behind the wheel.

If I ever have more than one, I won’t drive.

Period. My parents were pretty serious about that growing up, and it stuck with me.

I pay for my bill and get up, ready to walk back to my car, but I need to use the restroom before the hour drive home.

I try to walk fast so I can leave faster.

At this hour, a lot of people here are dressed in more proper clothes than my tiny, damp dress over a bathing suit.

But instead of passing by, I freeze in place when I see the table in front of me.

There’s a couple sitting and talking. She’s laughing at something he said, and he’s shaking his head.

She’s wearing a teal shirt that makes the blue in her eyes pop, and he’s wearing a collared shirt, framing his wide body.

Pressure builds behind my eyes as I stare at them—at her fancy glass of wine and the water carefully placed in front of him.

When he looks up and sees me, his smile falls .

Right in front of me, at a quiet corner table, looking hotter than sin, sits Gus Zabana, the blonde from the gala sitting directly across from him, smiling sexily at whatever he said.

The girl notices his stare, so she turns to the side to see what’s caught his attention.

She waves and says something to Gus, who tries to get up, but I take a step back instantly.

I turn around, trying to speed walk out the same way I came in, but I bump into a server, who drops everything on his tray.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I say.

“It’s okay,” he replies, bending to pick up things from the ground. Nothing broken, but it’s still a mess. “I got it, I got it,” he adds when I try to help, so I stand and try to leave without making a bigger fool of myself.

“Nellie, wait,” Gus whispers, holding my arm as I try to leave. I yank away from him and walk out without saying a word.

I step outside where it’s less crowded, so when he shouts behind me, I can hear him loud and clear.

“Give me a minute, please.”

“No,” I shout back, walking faster. I’m almost out of here. I’m almost to my car.

“Let me explain,” he shouts again, but this time, it sounds further back. Good. He’s not following. Speed it up, Nellie. Speed it up.

I walk as fast as I can until I make it to my car. My phone is buzzing inside my purse, but I don’t answer. I just get in my car and drive back home. It took him what? Three weeks? Was he always dating her? Maybe not dating, but fucking her? Clearly.

I drive all the way home in a slight rage. I didn’t look at my phone once, so when I finally rinse off the salty water and slide into pjs, I have twelve missed calls from him and one text message.

DLS:

Let me explain.

Three words. Three words I don’t want. I grab my phone and immediately reply, just in case whatever the fuck her name is sees it. I’m acting like an irrational, jealous girlfriend. Two of those are news to me, and one of those, I’m clearly not.

Me:

You don’t owe me an explanation.

He tries to call, but I decline it. Nope, not talking to him.

DLS:

Stop being so fucking stubborn, Nellie, and answer the phone.

Me:

Don’t yell at me.

DLS:

I’m texting, not yelling, and you’re infuriating sometimes. Answer the phone.

Fucking hell. Okay. I answer the phone with a loud, “What?”

“Now who’s yelling?” His voice carries from the other side of the phone, completely cool, calm, and collected. That pisses me off even more.

“What do you want, Gus?” If this man laughs, I will lose it.

“To explain what you think you saw, but I can guarantee, it’s not what it looked like,” he says, continuing with his I don’t give a fuck demeanor.

“And what exactly do you think I thought?”

“That I was on a date with the girl I took to the auction.” Pretty on point, I’m not going to lie. “And before you deny it, I know that’s where your beautiful brain went. But Nellie, I’m not dating Blair.”

“Of course her name is Blair,” I mumble, rolling the eyes he can’t see.

“I can basically feel you rolling your eyes, Nellie.”

“I did not.” Now I sound like a petulant child. This man brings out all the stupid emotions in me. All of them. I know this isn’t helping. I know I’m showing zero self-control and maturity, the opposite of who I am, but I can’t stop. He makes me feel everything more. Happier, angrier.

“Okay, sure.” He lets out an exasperated breath.

“Nellie…Blair is a business partner of sorts. Her family owns a company that works closely with mine. We have monthly meetings, and we like to meet at restaurants because it looks like we’re working together, or like we’re together with the public.

Good PR. It’s a win-win for both our companies.

I’m not dating her. Never have and never will. ”

I stay silent, letting the words hang between us and absolutely hating every single one of them. Is that a rational explanation? Yes. Do I believe him? Yes. Am I still mad? Yes.

“And the reality is, Nellie, I’ve always had a hard time connecting with people.

Not at the superficial, oh I’m friendly level, more at the hard to the core, I might love you forever level.

It’s always too hard. I’m the one ruining people, the one who can’t love right.

I thought I didn’t know how, but honestly, I think I just didn’t have it right.

Not until you. So yes, please give me a chance.

Give me a chance to show you I am capable of loving right. ”

“Say something,” he says. When I don’t, he continues, “Tell me what you want, Nellie. Do you want me on my knees? Do you want me crawling to you, begging? Pleading? Supplicating? I’m ready to do it all. Just please, say something.”

“You want me to say something? How about a question… Was she the phone call you took when we were at the cabin? ”

“No,” he answers, quickly and without hesitation.

“Then who?” This time, the line goes silent, and he doesn’t say anything at all.

“Then who, Gus? Who?”

He doesn’t say anything. Shocker.

“You said you wanted to explain and to give you another chance just last night. So tell me…who?”

“I don’t want to talk about this, not like this.”

“You know what…actually, it’s none of my business who you talk to anymore. It’s none of my business what you do or don’t do in your free time, Gus. We’re not together, remember?”

“We need to talk about that. We could be, if you would’ve just called me back. We need to go somewhere so I can explain. Please.”

“I’m done talking about it. I know where you stand, and I know where I stand. You want fun and casual, like your friend, Blair.”

“Nellie, I already told you. It’s not like that.”

“And I said I don’t care.”

“God, woman. You’re infuriating. Stop acting your age and listen for a second.” Oh, he didn’t.

“You know what, Gus? Maybe I do need to act my age for once in my life. What was it you said to me? Oh yeah: I have my whole life ahead of me. You’re right. I’m too young and too hot for this back and forth. Goodbye, Gus.”

I hang up the phone and park my car. There’s zero thinking and all feeling today, especially as I numbly walk inside the house. Maybe that was too harsh and irrational, but damn it, I’m done with it all. I cry and cry until sleep takes over.