Page 167 of Loving the Liar

“I was part of your self-destruction,” he admits. “Everything you ever did was because you hated yourself. Because you were taught by your dad to hate yourself. The sleeping around, the no-studying, building a fake personality everyone at college would love, self-harm…and me.”

He shakes his head, like he can’t believe he’s admitting it.

“I am part of the things and people you allowed to destroy you because you thought you deserved to be destroyed. That you weren’t worth anything. And in my selfishness, I subconsciously supported that. I thought my obsession showed how much I loved you, but all I did was press on those insecurities and turn you dependent. I’m sorry, Ella. I am so sorry. And if you’re going to stop hurting yourself like you promised me, then you have to keep me out of your life. At least for the time being. At least until you’re sure of what you truly want.”

I swallow the tears that threaten to fall. Not because he’s hurting me, but because he’s right, and it’s always hard to be called out on self-destructive behavior. It’s heart-shattering to see how he was very much part of it.

“I love you,” I push past the tightness in my throat. “I don’t love what you did, and I don’t love the man you became to have me. But I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiles sadly. I hate it on him. I prefer his shy, lopsided smile. Or his beautiful grin when he’s truly happy. “God, you can’t even begin to imagine how much I love you.”

I snort. “I think I’m starting to get the idea.”

The kiss on my lips is soft. It’s not possessive like he usually kisses me. It’s sweet, a perfect goodbye.

“Hold on. I just need to give you something before you leave.”

He runs up the stairs, coming back a minute later with a journal.

“Take this,” he says, swallowing roughly. “You can read all of it.”

I look down at the black notebook. Every single page has a date and a couple of lines written on it. “Did you write all of these?”

He nods.

“Read it. Take your time. Months, if you have to. Years…” He releases a heavy sigh. “I don’t want that, but I’ll wait. I’ll be taking care of giving you your spot back at SFU. Dance major. Do everything you love, be fulfilled. And then…”

He runs a hand across his face, tears shining in his eyes.

“Then, please come back to me.”

For once it’s not an order this time, it’s a plea.

My beautiful Christopher Murray, who spent months shattering my life to pieces so he would be the only thing in it, is letting me go, hoping it means I will come back one day.

And I can’t promise him I will, but I can promise myself that if I do, it will be because I truly want to.

I love you

If I ever give you this journal, remember the day they tried to keep me away from you. And remember I crawled home to you.

I will always come home to you.

Epilogue

Ella

Call My Name - GRAHAM, Henrik

Six months later…

“That’s okay, try again.” I smile encouragingly at Olivia, helping her put her hands properly in front of her for first position. “That’s it, you’re doing amazing.”

She doesn’t say anything. She never does, but she’s becoming so much better every time I see her. Our one-on-one lessons have really paid off. Her parents keep coming back saying she’s asking for more and that the hour we spend together every Friday afternoon keeps a lot of her breakdowns at bay. The only fact that she’s here, doing something without her twin, is a huge step for her.

The alarm on my phone rings, and I run to turn it off.

“That’s our time,” I tell her softly. “Let’s go check if Mommy is waiting outside.”

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