Page 50 of Perfect Liar

“Yes, of course I can stay. I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

“I know. But please go.”

As my body and my mind had fallen apart on the way to England, repressed grief slammed into me, creating a destructive cyclone of emotion. My mind fought back, forcing me into a mental lockdown. But it was time…I had to pull myself together, and I needed him gone.

Gone, but only so I could mend my broken heart with its own pieces, not with his.

He pressed his warm lips to the side of my face, and we watched deer frolic on the lawn, their spirits so wild, so free.

One little doe stopped in her tracks and looked up at the house, fixing her gaze on my window. She and I stared at each other before she finally ran off with the herd and left me staring at my own reflection on the glass.

She looked back once, and I knew…only one thing could set me free. I had to feel the pain, so it would leave me alone.

And I had to release Will from carrying my burden.

He had stayed in the room with me, protecting my heart, taking on my pain, and I let him.

“You’re not ready to be alone, Elle. I’ll stay,” he said.

I turned to meet his eyes, touched his face.

“I am ready. I need to feel my own pain.”

He nodded and kissed my forehead.

“I’ll come back in a few hours.”

As soon as he shut the door, my tears began to fall.

I pushed back at the numbness in my body, in my mind, and pulled all the hurt inward, crying with the force of someone who was drowning.

Every splintered piece of my heart cut me deeply and bled out. My heart mourned for Isabel. So young, too young to die. I mourned for my gran.

Snot and tears mixed, choking me as I sobbed harder.

I grieved for my parents. As a two-year-old, I never truly mourned that loss.

My soul wept over all the years I’d had with my sister and my gran. Because even through the good years, a hole in my heart had always existed.

I screamed silently.

Pain and loss ripped through me.

My heart pounded and banged.

I writhed on the floor.

And finally, when I willed myself to be stronger, to pick myself up from the floor, something inside me shifted…my grief shifted. I didn’t know what the change meant or how it would play out, only that it wouldn’t be easy.

But my god, the fear in my heart.

Five. Four. Stop it. Just fucking stop. Fear and anxiety can be managed.

Doing my best to change my thoughts, I stumbled to the bathroom, hoarsely whispering Lissie’s name.

Her losses are greater than mine.

While showering, I let my mind wander back to our arrival. I remembered the comforting car ride, the smooth roar of the engine, the wheels floating over the asphalt, the security of Will’s arms. I compared him to his sleek black car—a strong, sensual Jaguar that suited him so well.

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