Page 74 of It's Not All Fake

“Lock this door behind me,” he says firmly, and I nod. He opens the door and is swiftly gone, closing it behind him.

I’m left alone in my unbearably quiet apartment. I feel a deep ache that has nothing to do with my physical injuries.

I need to let him go. Liam needs to figure things out, and so do I. He shouldn’t get caught up in my mess. He needs to be freed up for a real relationship, something where money isn’t exchanged, and the boundaries aren’t unhealthy as fuck.

And I need to recover from this disaster—somehow.

After washing and bandaging my wound, I lie in bed, trying to make sense of everything that has happened. I want to sink into the darkness of sleep, but my mind is too restless. My thoughts eventually drift to my father, who is probably still sleeping in London.

Despite the distance between us since my mom died, I want him to know what went on while he was sleeping. The altercation with Lucas could have ended much worse. Liam is right, I’m lucky. I decide to call my dad later, after we’re both awake.

Just I start to submit to the heavy pull of sleep, I hear a knock. I shoot upright in bed, consciousness ripping me back to my bedroom. My heart is beating fast, and I’m terrified that it’s Lucas. He’s come back.

But then, in the quiet, I wonder if the knock was real or if it was only in my dreams. I was slipping off into sleep and can’t decipher what was real.

Before I can fully process it, a loud knock makes me jump, confirming that someone is at the door. Terror floods through me. He’s here.

Oh fuck. I fumble for my phone.

“Chloe, it’s me,” a familiar voice calls out. Relief floods over me as I recognize Michael’s voice. Then confusion sets in. It’s so late. A knot of anxiety builds—What has Lucas told him? Is Michael here to scold me for this being my fault somehow based on a tale Lucas spun?

Pulling on my robe, I open the door just as Michael starts knocking again.

Michael’s face is creased with concern, and I see the shock in his eyes as he takes in the bruising on my face that the Band-Aid doesn’t cover.

“Hi,” I say, surprised to see him.

“Chloe, oh my God,” he exclaims and wrapping me in a gentle hug. The embrace catches me off guard—it has been such a long time since we’ve been this close.

“Why are you here? It’s midnight,” I ask softly, confused. He releases me, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

“Liam called me,” he explains, shaking his head as he stares at my wounded face.

Liam called him? I guess he had his staff track down Michael’s number. Part of me wants to be annoyed by his interference, but I can’t help feeling grateful.

“Liam told me what Lucas did,” Michael says with a pained expression and a simmering anger underneath. “I’m so sorry, Chloe.” His voice breaks with emotion. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats, tears welling up in his eyes.

I hold my arms out and he hugs me again. “It’s okay,” I whisper.

“It’s okay,” I repeat, trying to convince myself as much as him.

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHLOE

Two days later, I find myself back in the office.

It’s strange how everything appears so normal and peaceful as I settle into my desk chair, morning light filtering in through the large windows.

I’ve felt like this before. When my mother died, the mundane seemed so out of place for a while. How can everything look so ordinary after something so terrible has happened?

I take a breath and allow myself to sink into the silence of the room.

Until my phone vibrates loudly on the desk. It startles me, even though I should have expected it. I keep getting texts from people in my life ever since I told my brother about the restraining order against Lucas. Michael even slept on the couch the night he visited, worried to leave me alone and I was too tired to object by then. He cried and I cried that night, and Lucas won’t be a wedge in our relationship anymore. There’s a silver lining, I think.

As I reach for my phone, I see that it’s a text from Liam.

How are you?

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