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Chapter Thirty-Six

Andrew

Karma.

That’s the word that enters my head as I watch Belgian hot chocolate seep into the industrial carpet, dark and accusatory. I watch it spread, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Karma was supposed to be satisfying.

Instead, it’s watching the best thing that’s ever happened to me realize I’m the worst thing that ever happened to him.

I’ve seen a thousand different expressions cross Justin’s face over these past months. Joy, desire, vulnerability.

But this one? This was entirely new.

His features seemed to collapse inward, like a building whose foundation had just crumbled.

The worst part wasn’t his shock or his anger.

It was the split second where confusion gave way to understanding, and I watched the man I love realize that every kiss, every shared secret, every moment of trust between us had been built on lies.

The sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway jolts me into action. Because this isn’t how our story ends, with spilled hot chocolate, shattered trust, and all the words I should have said months ago still stuck in my throat.

I’ve spent too long hiding behind masks. It’s time to finally show him my real face, even if it means watching him walk away from it.

“Mate, it sounds like you have some explaining to do,” Xander says.

“Thanks, Xander, that’s really helpful right now,” I say as I get to my feet.

I’ve barely taken two steps when Adam materializes in front of me like an overeager system pop-up. He has a weird look on his face.

“Ah…Andrew. Glad to catch you. It appears I may have been…somewhat hasty in my assessment of your technical capabilities.”

It’s probably the closest thing to an apology I’ll ever get from him, and normally, I’d savor this moment. But all I can think about is Justin and how every second I spend here is another second he spends believing our whole relationship was a lie.

“Thanks, Adam. But I really need to?—”

“Of course, of course.” He nods too quickly. “Though perhaps later we could discuss your innovative approach to the marketing department’s authentication protocols?—”

“Sure thing,” I say as I move past him, already halfway down the hallway. My footsteps echo against the industrial carpet like a countdown timer.

When I get to the lobby, it’s empty.

I take out my phone. The Find My Friends app glows accusingly on my screen as an example of another piece of intimacy Justin shared with me without question.

Justin’s marker shows him moving toward the river, so I hurry after him.

My hands shake as I clutch my phone, the screen blurring in and out of focus. My chest feels like someone’s running compression tests on my heart, squeezing tighter with each step I take. The irony of chasing after the guy I once tried so hard to avoid isn’t lost on me.

There’s the usual lunch crowd flooding out of the glass office buildings. Each person wrapped in their winter coat becomes an obstacle between Justin and me, like the universe is throwing up one final firewall to keep me from him.

Fuck, it’s cold out here. I should have grabbed my coat before leaving the office.

My thin shirt offers no protection against the December wind. My skin pebbles, and I can’t stop shaking, though whether that’s from the cold or something else, I’m not sure.

The River Thames stretches out before me, gray and restless.

I spot Justin at one of the lower viewing platforms, his hands gripping the railing like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

The wind’s having its way with his hair, creating chaos just like I did with his life. His perfect posture, the one that used to make me think of golden-boy quarterbacks and untouchable popularity, now looks more like armor being held together by sheer willpower.

“Justin,” I call.

Justin turns to look at me.

His face holds none of its usual warmth or the soft humor that usually plays around his mouth when he looks at me.

Instead, his features are set in lines I’ve never seen before, like someone’s redrawn him without any of the light I’ve grown to love.

And a terrible knowledge seeps into me.

Somewhere between plotting my revenge and falling in love with him, I became the worst kind of bully.

The one who makes you trust them before they break your heart.

I hesitate at the top of the steps, suddenly unsure of my right to close the distance between us.

I want nothing more than to pull him into my arms like I’ve done so many times before, to feel his heart beat steadily against mine.

Instead, I stand frozen, watching the wind tug at his tie like it’s trying to unravel him completely.

Justin’s shoulders hunch forward now, a mirror of how I used to carry myself in those high school hallways, and something inside me breaks. My feet carry me down the steps before I can second-guess myself.

“You never told me we went to high school together. You told me you were from Oklahoma.” His voice is quiet, barely audible over the wind.

“I lied.”

“Why?”

It’s such a simple question. But the answer isn’t so simple.

“Because I wanted to get revenge on you,” I say.

Justin goes stock still.

“What?”

“I wanted to get revenge on you for what you did to me in high school. When I saw you that night in a pub in Oxford Circus, you didn’t even recognize me. And I was… I was so angry about that. I couldn’t believe you didn’t remember me after everything you did to me.”

Justin doesn’t take his eyes off me. “You know why I didn’t recognize you.”

“Yes, I know now. But I didn’t know then.”

The depth of how much I didn’t know almost sinks me.

“What do you mean, get revenge on me?”

Justin’s gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles have gone white, his jaw clenched in that way I’ve only seen when he talks about Bobby Ray.

And now, I have to tell him the depth of my betrayal. Tell him how far it goes beyond just concealing my identity from him.

“I…I orchestrated everything. Getting the job at DTL Enterprises. Moving into your building. Making sure our paths crossed.” The words taste bitter in my mouth. “I wrote programs to mess with your technology. The troll email, your presentation glitches, your calendar scheduling issues…” I trail off because I can’t continue telling him more details of what I did to him. What had felt like justice then now feels like a thousand tiny betrayals.

Justin’s eyes have gone wide. His hand drops from the railing, hanging loose at his side like a surrendered flag.

“My phone playing ‘I’m Too Sexy’ during the sales meeting?” His voice cracks on the last word.

“Yes.” The admission feels like ripping off a Band-Aid that’s been superglued to my skin.

“That was you? All that time, it was you?”

“Yes.”

Confusion is written across his features. “But you helped me fix everything.”

“That’s because I couldn’t stand to see how panicked you were. I mean, after the Striker presentation, when you were desperate, I realized I couldn’t go through with it. Then I thought…” I swallow hard. “Then I thought the best way to get back at you would be to become friends, so when you found out the truth, it would hit you harder.”

Justin laughs, but it doesn’t have a single trace of humor in it. It’s bleak, brittle.

“I’d say you overachieved on that one.”

The bitterness in his voice slices through me, leaving jagged edges I didn’t know I could feel. My fingernails dig into my palms painfully.

“I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“For what to happen? For me to fall in love with you?”

The word love feels like a weapon.

I hang my head. “No. I didn’t mean for that to happen. And by the time I realized, it was too late.”

His eyes are hard as his gaze meets mine. “So what was the endgame here, Drew? Or should I call you Andrew? Were you planning to reveal everything at the class reunion? Make a dramatic speech about how the golden-boy quarterback fell for the guy he used to torment?”

Anger flares inside me, surprising me. I thought that the events of the past eight months had healed my wounds, but apparently, some of Teenage Andrew’s wounds are still bleeding.

“I understand you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but you remember what you did to me, right? You remember the Handy Andy nickname? You made my life hell for FOUR years!”

“I know I did. Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I’m so ashamed and embarrassed about that? I told you how guilty I felt about bullying someone just like you—” He trails off, then releases a laugh tinged in bitterness.

He takes a deep breath, then lifts his gaze to mine. “Except he wasn’t just like you. He was you. And you sat there and listened to me pour my heart out about it, knowing the whole time…”

“I tried to tell you then it was me, but then you told me you loved me…” I swallow hard.

“And what?”

“And I couldn’t handle hurting you by telling you the truth,” I say quietly.

He just stares at me.

“I know what I did was terrible, but I was a fourteen-year-old kid being abused by my stepfather when I started bullying you! You’re twenty-seven, Drew. You knew exactly what you were doing.” Justin’s breathing speeds up. “You made me fall in love with you when the whole time you were pretending.”

“I wasn’t pretending! Well, I was in the beginning, but then…things changed.”

Justin rakes his hand through his hair. He looks out across the river, his jaw muscles working. “You know what hurts the most? Not that you lied about who you were. But you took all those moments when I was finally being real—coming out to you, telling you about Bobby Ray, trusting you with parts of myself I’ve never shown anyone—and you were just…what? Collecting data points for your revenge algorithm?”

My chest constricts as if someone’s wrapped barbed wire around my heart and is slowly, deliberately tightening it.

“No. I wasn’t collecting data. Everything changed, Justin, don’t you get that? As I got to know you, when you told me what happened with Bobby Ray, I forgave you. And then I didn’t want to hurt you. Because I’d started to care about you…and then I fell in love with you, and trust me, that wasn’t part of any revenge plan.”

Justin’s face does this complicated thing that makes my chest ache, like watching someone try to hold on to their anger while processing grief at the same time.

His blue-green eyes meet mine. The raw hurt sears my heart.

“Trust you? How can I trust anything you say to me?”