Page 7 of Bloody Tainted Lies

Although I know it wasn’t my best moment, I did mean what I said to her the other day. She looked like absolute shit. Her eyes had deep, purple bags under them. And she was thinner than I’ve ever seen her. I know it’s all my fault, and that’s probably why it makes me feel guiltier. She doesn’t deserve this pain.

That’s why I switch vehicles, change my clothes, and drive all the way to the restaurant she frequents with Annie. I’m not even discreet about it, getting a table right behind them, and watching them.

The brunette waitress comes to my table, a wide smile on her face. “Welcome to Giovanni’s, my name is Rose. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

“Just water, please.” She nods, “And I’m actually ready to order my food as well.”

About thirty minutes later, Camilla has a salmon salad in front of her, while Annie has chicken, rice, and asparagus. Me, on the other hand? I have a juicy steak with mashed potatoes and a Caesar salad. You can tell they’re dancers by their eating habits, always so clean to stay in the shape they need to. Except in my opinion, it’s okay to indulge occasionally. But she doesn’t know how to do that. She was never the type to indulge in anything except for maybe us.

Annie is talking excitedly about something, using her hands a lot, and Camilla pretends to listen. I only know this because I know what she looks like when she actually does listen. They’re talking about a recital—Swan Lake.Interesting. I always thought ballet would be a phase for Camilla, even when she assured me it was her favorite thing to do. After all, most girls grow out of that by the time they’re eighteen.

Annie stiffens when she sees me, and her hands drop. We’ve had a few classes over the years, and we’re actually friendly with each other. But I guess I’m not forgiven for breaking Milla’s heart, even though she broke mine first. It’s quite unfair in my opinion, and she deserved what I said.She betrayed me too.

Of course, due to Annie’s outburst Camilla turns around, and when our eyes meet, hers harden. I know I deserve that, but it doesn’t hurt any less. How I can still hurt from something that happened when I was eighteen, is beyond me. But here I am, still broken up over a girl who wouldn’t fight for us. Except she’s not a girl anymore, she’s a woman now.

Her dark brown, almost black hair is flowing all the way down to her lower back, her dress displaying it between peeks of her dark strands. Camilla’s lips are set in a hard line as she stares at me, but her eyes? They look like they could catch on fire at any moment. The orange flecks in them are glowing even from a few feet away, and that’s how I know she’s pissed. The only other time they did this was the first time we got into a fight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Camilla hisses, twisting her little body around on the chair.

I gesture to my food with my hand, “Eating.” I reply nonchalantly, like I’m not stalking her at all.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I know everything about you,” I smirk, and she rolls her eyes. She tries to object, but I raise my hand. “Ialwayshave.”

“Of course, you’d think so.” She smiles, and Annie’s eyes widen.

That bothers me, because I don’t know everything anymore and she knows I’m talking shit. But I know the things that matter. “Why are you?—”

“Pissed at you?” Camilla raises one eyebrow. “Have you forgotten what you said to me last?”

“Come sit with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“We don’t have to wait until Saturday to talk.” I sigh, and she gets up from her chair with a huff and sits across from me. “Thank you.”

“So talk.”

I look at Annie, who is still at the other table, looking down at her food like they’re about to have a conversation, then back at Camilla. “I’m sorry,” I tell her with honesty. “I was hurt when you had sex with Leo—it hurt me. You did.”

She seems to think about this for a moment. “And you don’t think it hurt me?” Tears fill her eyes. “Did you think I wanted it?”

“I don’t know, Camilla,” I say her name like I used to, with reverence. “But when I saw you go in that room with him—I just knew I’d walk out of that house with a broken heart. And it did break,again.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“I know we can’t start over or even be friends, but I needed to apologize,” I tell her and she nods. “I should’ve never said that to you.”

You’re disgusting.

I never want to see you again.

The words have played over and over in my head for years, mostly because they’re the only regret I’ve ever had—other than letting her walk away.

“I accept your apology.” She replies, grabbing my hand.

But she doesn’t actually forgive me.

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