Page 61 of Loving the Liar

I want to lie. I want to shake my head and scream that I was abused and hated every single second of it. Instead, I go for the truth. “It was amazing.”

But that simple fact doesn’t make me feel amazing. I’m too scared about Chris learning about this. Anxiety is ripping me to pieces. I promised him I would not let another man touch me, and I broke that promise the same evening. And while I’m aware this was entirely not my fault…I don’t want to know what his reaction will be.

I love you

When I think of the men you let touch you, I can’t calm my heartbeat. I can barely control the fury burning in my veins. No one will get near you again. ‘I wouldn’t go back to you if you were my last option on earth.’ You’re lying. You’ll come back to me because that’s what I want.

I always get what I want.

Chapter Sixteen

Chris

ALL I WANTED WAS U - Ex Habit - Omido

She walks into the kitchen like everything is fine. The sun is out, coffee is ready, and she’ll share breakfast with the man she loves. Life is beautiful.

It’s only slightly unfortunate that he doesn’t love her back. That he doesn’t want to be in this relationship. That blackmailing only works to make him more and more vengeful every day.

Megan yawns, her perfectly straight black hair brushing the top of her shoulders as she stretches. It’s weird that she always looks perfect. Robotic.

Ella’s hair is so messy that when I used to sneak into her bedroom at night, I would spend ten minutes come morning, untangling everything before she would then straighten it herself.

“Thanks for coffee,” Megan murmurs as she pours herself a cup.

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Will you pour me another?”

I buy her the most expensive beans that we grind in a barista coffee machine. She drinks it in a silk nightdress from a shop that only sells one item of everything they create, in a house where the rent costs more than a semester of tuition fees at SFU. We’re that kind of rich. We have a bank account where the far-left numbers never change.

My friends always say I’m stuck up. From a young age, I set up a routine I stuck to because I needed it. I wake up at 5:00 a.m. I read. I exercise. I have my coffee by 6:30 in clothes I’ve ironed that same morning, and I leave before 7:30 so I can sit somewhere and read a book or a play before the day starts.

Why I was ever popular in high school is as good a question as any. Maybe because of Luke, Jake, and Rose. Maybe because I balanced the group of unhinged friends with some quietness and gentleness. After all, I’m incredibly good at hiding the side of me that doesn’t fit my image.

So, I guess “stuck up” was a good term for my friends to use. Boring. When I started dating Megan, I liked that we had that in common. But then I realized something else.

Everything that has to do with Megan cannot be less than perfect. It’s terrifying. She obsesses over the smallest things that might make her feel like she doesn’t have control over the situation.

A manipulator must always have control over everything.

That’s why she touches my hair right after she settles my cup on the table. She rearranges it the way she likes it as if we’re in some sort of TV reality and are being watched at all times.

She leans forward for a kiss, and that’s when I reach for the back of her neck. I stand from my chair, forcing her to bend over the table, and slam her back down the second she tries to fight me.

Taking my cup of coffee, I balance it precariously over her head. The liquid is steaming, threatening to burn through anything in its way.

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Christopher?” she shrieks. “Let me go!”

A wild animal dying to escape the zoo it’s being kept in. That’s what I am. That’s the rage that’s spilling over.

“Listen to me,” I hiss above her. “Because I won’t warn you twice.”

She’s desperate to escape when I tilt the cup a little bit more, whimpering from fear.

“If you ever hurt her again, I will destroy you. I can’t kill you. I can’t leave, and I can’t hurt you beyond repair. But I will make your life a living hell, do you understand?”

“I’ll end your dad.” The venom in her voice freezes my blood, but I don’t release her.

It’s right here, the madness that bubbles when it comes to Ella. Protecting her and defending her is more important than breathing.

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