Page 125 of Loving the Liar

I lack words to express what we’re truly going through, so I smile and keep the joke going. “Don’t take this as an encouragement to make my life a living hell.”

“I would never.”

Something catches my eye. There are scratches on his neck. Four angry lines that look like they were done on purpose. I graze them with the tips of my fingers.

“What is this?”

He turns away, thinking it’ll help to avoid my gaze, but all it does is give me a better view of his neck, and I can see it goes under his shirt. There are more scratches there. They’re vicious.

“Oh my god, Chris.” I stand up, pulling the collar out of the way. “What the hell?”

My heart drops as soon as my brain catches up, and I let go of him, taking a few steps back.

“You slept with her.” His eyes flutter closed, then open again. He’s shaking his head, but I keep going. “You left in a rush because the hospital called, but you still had time to have her hands all over your body?”

“Ella, I would never do that to you. Believe me, I don’t sleep with Megan.”

“Then what are those?” He expects me to believe this bullshit as if he’s never lied to me before.

“She tried to come visit my dad, but she’s not on the list.”

“She’s not on the…” My words hang in the air.

She’s not on the list.

He stands up, looking exhausted, like he doesn’t want to fight or justify himself, but at the same time, there’s a weight that needs to fall off his shoulders.

“She was being rude to the staff, trying to get past nurses to come to the room. So I went out, walked her outside, and asked her to leave, to wait for me at home. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t sleep with her. I don’t care about her. She’s an angry, vicious woman, and the last thing I want to do when I’m with you is talk about her.”

He’s somehow managed to corner me against the wall while he was talking, and I glance at the welts again. He avoided my question.

“What are they?” I ask again.

Because if those aren’t from sex, but they’re from Megan, then what? She angrily maimed him like a lion? It’s not like Chris is at risk to be hurt by anyone, really. He’s too big to fear people, let alone a skinny girl like Megan. It’s not like she’s abusing him…

My skin starts to tingle, needles piercing through my hands and feet as my stomach hardens. I see a flash of the bruise he had on his face a week ago. The way he acted exactly like she wanted then. I replay the scenes of him stiffening next to his fiancée who he hates so much. The way he always talks about her. Manipulative. Dangerous. He says he’ll get rid of her. Their deal he denies? And that phone call where she told him to know his place.

“Chris,” I push out through a dry throat. I’ve never experienced this.

If it was one of my girlfriends, I would hug her, ask her what was happening. I would soothe her and bring up the subject of abuse and to leave a man who hurts her.

But Chris…he’s so tall and strong. He’s a protector. He cares. How do you ask a man who seems invincible if the woman he’s supposed to marry abuses him?

It seems absurd.

And yet I know. I know it deep down in my soul. I feel it in my gut. I see it with my own eyes when I look at his neck.

I want to protect his ego. I want to laugh it off and pretend I never saw this.

But I did. And I know what it is.

“Does she…hit you?”

He’s the one who waves it off. “Don’t be silly. Have you seen me? What do you think she’ll do?”

“This.” I point at the red lines. They look painful and deep. He bled.

“Ella, I’m twice her size.”

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