Page 99 of Loving the Liar

Chris

So Good - Halsey

Looking down at the papers on my desk, I rub the back of my neck. Then I twist it to the sides, trying to crack away the tension in my muscles and vertebrae.

It doesn’t work.

I attempt to focus my gaze on the words, but they blur from the headache I’m still sporting. Huffing, I angrily open my drawer to find the bottle of Tylenol in there and pop two pills.

I can do this. Sort through the five cases Rose proposed for Reeves’s next class, finish my own research for my business strategy and business negotiations class, and not think of Ella.

Don’t think about the way her eyes were shining with tears when I didn’t defend her from Megan’s spiteful behavior. Don’t think about the sound of her steps as she ran away after I said the most malicious words I’ve ever said to her. She probably went to the dance studio. It’s always been her safe space.

Please, stop thinking about that visceral need I have to go find her and let her know that it broke my heart as much as hers to act that way toward her. That I did it for her own good.

Everything terrible I do is for her own good. She just can’t see it yet. She doesn’t understand that what I’m putting her through is to help her understand that I’m the one she needs. I’m the one who will protect her from the terrible things that scare and hurt her. And while this very specific behavior wasn’t planned, it was still necessary.

Don’t think of Ella.

Just for today. Or at least for this afternoon. One hour?

I eye the book of Shakespeare sonnets I took with me this morning to read before classes.

So are you to my thoughts as food to life,

Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground.

I can’t even forget her for a whole minute. Even when I force my mind to do so, my gut twists, and I almost hyperventilate from wanting to think of her again. It’s more than a need. It’s an urgency. A hunger I can’t control.

The sound of the office door makes me look up, and I freeze from the vision of the woman I’m dying to keep out of my head. Well, this isn’t helping, is it?

My heart breaks into a sprint, enhancing the desperation to get up and take her into my arms.

I’m about to ask her how she’s feeling, when she speaks.

“Did you hurt Matias?”

My eyes automatically dart to Reeves’s door, not wanting him to hear us. She’s panting, probably ran here, but her angry eyes stay on me.

She eyes the bruise at the corner of my mouth, the swollen skin. I unconsciously lick my lip, tasting the copper tang of the fresh cut.

“Did he fight back? Is that how you got that?” As if Matias could have hurt me.

When I notice the pointe shoes in her hand and the redness in her eyes, I ignore her question.

“Was there a problem at the studio?” I ask.

“Nothing you would care about,” she barks back. “Now answer me. Because people think I hire someone to hurt my exes or the people I date, and we both know I don’t. I’ll tell everyone it was you.”

I’m up before I know it. I’m rounding my desk and striding toward her subconsciously, and I’m standing tall in front of her wide-eyed form before I can control it.

My hand flies to her face, wrapping around her jaw and pulling until her neck is taut, her teeth gritting, glare locked on me.

“What will you say, Sweets? That your ex beat up two people because they flirted with you? I’m the one who seems like he’s moved on from an outside perspective. How credible will you look?”

Her fingers wrap around my wrist. “Why are you ruining my life?” she snarls, but it’s breathy and full of hopelessness.

“I protected you from two people who didn’t have your best interest at heart.”

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