Page 170 of Loving the Liar

This is still real, the fact that we’re not together. That we’re friends, but that’s being generous. I hate the feeling it brings me.

He asks me more questions about my life in the last six months. Tells me that he and Luke speak, but they’re not on the best terms. Still, he’s confident he’ll make it right to him. The background noise changes from streets, to a car, to streets, to the busy noises of an airport.

He hangs up for barely a minute when he boards the jet, saying he’s switching to the plane’s Wi-Fi, and he calls me back right away.

“I was with him,” he carries on, talking about my brother. “He had a meeting with some investors for his new company. People he knows from LA. No one from the Circle, thankfully. He wanted me to be there to pretend he had some kind of lawyer with him.” Chuckling, he adds, “I don’t know how wise it was to use a law school student, but at least it means he still trusts me.”

“You left a meeting with my brother’s investors to fly back to me?”

“He should know by now you come before everything else.”

“Chris,” I groan. “He’s going to be fuming.”

“More than when he buried me alive?”

I laugh bursts past my lips, and I feel bad about it for a second before he joins me. Then a silence stretches, and I fill it with a question that’s been on my mind for months.

“The Circle…how can you forgive them for what they did to your dad?”

“I will never forget, and I will never forgive,” he explains calmly. “The Circle will get what’s coming to them. But you know what they say about your enemies.”

I acknowledge his ominous words with a simple nod he can’t see, my eyes darting to the grave again. “You didn’t cry.”

He knows I mean at the funeral.

“I had to be strong for Mom and Juliette.”

“Even Rose and Jake cried,” I add, feeling the emotions come back. “I did too.”

“Then I guess I had to be strong for all of you,” he chuckles.

I wipe a single tear falling on my left cheek. “I’m sorry,” I sniffle. “I feel like such an idiot. I just… Did you rest at least? Did you take the time to take care of yourself? I’m worried for you.”

He huffs, and I can imagine him resting his head on the seat of the plane, closing his eyes and opening them again. Maybe even massaging the back of his neck.

“Do you want the truth? Or do you want me to reassure you?”

“The truth. Please, only the truth from now on.”

“I had too many things to grieve in the last few months, Els. I don’t think I had a chance to truly process any of them. I lost you, my safe space. Of course I didn’t cry about my dad’s death. Because I lost the shoulder I could cry on. And it’s my own fault.”

I don’t even know what to answer him. He’s right. All of it is right. So, he quickly changes the topic. We talk for hours on end about many things I never thought I’d ever talk to him about again. Our favorite time to go to the gym at SFU, complaints about our courses, my favorite ballet moves, the ones I’m struggling with the most. We talk about his law essays, his mom, Juliette and her grades. We even talk about our favorite memories together.

“Do you want to tell me what was hurting you? Why you wanted to make it physical?”

“I hadn’t done it in months,” I defend weakly. “I’ve been doing fine.”

“It’s okay. Focus on the progress you made until now. You have to forgive yourself when the darker thoughts creep in. I’m so proud of you for not thinking about it until today.”

Facing his father’s grave, my problems become minuscule. At least I’m alive. I take a deep breath, feeling oxygen bring more life to my body as I finally tell him the full truth of why I called.

“I’m here. I came back to you. Because I want to and not because you forced me. Because no matter how fulfilled my life can be without you, it’s completely meaningless. I came back and you weren’t there. I thought I’d lost you forever. That’s what hurts.”

“I’m right here.”

I jolt, looking behind me from where I’m sitting on the grass.

He’s standing right here, the May sun reflecting in his caramel hair, his wide shoulders stretching a white button-up. He’s holding the backpack he traveled with. My God…did we talk on the phone for five hours?

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