Page 3 of The Longshot

“I… I shouldn’t have been talking to someone else. I was in the wrong. It was my fault.”

I take the blame only because it’s the easy way out. It’s the only thing I know how to do. Apologize for something that, deep down, I know isn’t my fault.

This is just a strategy, a way to escape.

Visibly receptive to my words, Simon leans in, rests his forehead against mine, and plants a tender kiss. “Just… don’t do it again,” he grumbles while attempting to soothe the tension in my shoulders. “You know I don’t like to see you talking to other guys, Chelsie. You know how upset it makes me.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I repeat over and over, considering it’s the only thing that’s prompting him to release me from his grasp. “I won't do it again,” I assure him with a false sense of sincerity as I take a slow, controlled step away from him. “I won’t.”

His breath hitches the second he takes in my attempts to create some distance. “Where are you going?” he snaps. “Did I say you could leave?!”

I clear my throat to not appear nearly as afraid of him as I am right now, and reluctantly, against my better judgment, I walk back towards him and place a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I was just going to get you another drink,” I try to explain. “I’ll come back.” I do my absolute best to make this lie as believable as possible, even kissing along his stubbled cheek in agony as I mumble these final two words. “I promise.”

Simon watches me carefully as I peel away for a second time, gazing into my eyes for a heightened sense of reassurance.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him once more with a subtle nod of my head. “Alright, babe? I’ll be back.”

“Fine,” he eventually hums. “Just… don’t be long, okay? You hear me, Chelsie? Don’t be long.”

I manage to force out an agreeable nod as I slowly back away and turn around, yet the very second I do, the pent-up emotion creeps its way back onto my face.

I have to choke it down. There’s no other choice. I still have over 150 yards to get through before I’m completely out of sight, and no one can see me.

I reach for the door handle of the greenhouse, momentarily peering back over my shoulder in an attempt to reassure myself that Simon’s stayed put.

He has, and when I close the door faintly behind me, I catch myself exhaling a sigh of relief before, all at once, I begin pulsing my way through the crowded bodies of the garden, brushing past them one by one, all the while meticulously trying to hide my face.

I’m nearly out of sight, using a wall to steady my frame as I approach the front of my family home when, unexpectedly, I collide with another.

No.

“Chelsie?” The voice inflates in question, prompting my heart rate to intensify. “What are you doing out here without a jacket on?” they ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

The voice of concern is immediately identifiable as none other than my older sister Ruby, who desperately rubs along my arms in an attempt to warm me.

“It’s okay, Ruby.” I shy away, keeping my eyes and face locked towards the ground. “I… I was just going to go inside and get one.” I attempt to side-step around her, but before I can, her voice demands that I halt in place.

“Chelsie,” she speaks. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

I don’t have to look her in the eyes to know the sheer level of concern that’s reflected in them. Ruby has always been the closest person to me. In fact, she’s the only person I’m relieved to have run into out of everyone here. Why? Because I know she won’t go run off and tell our Mum and Dad that something is up. She’ll do exactly what she’s trying to do right now, understand what’s going on, and try her best to help me without involving other parties.

“Hey, look at me.” She places a delicate hand underneath my chin and guides it upwards, and before I can resist the motion, she tilts my head up and draws my eyes in.

“Chels…” A gasp radiates through her voice as her eyes fill with shock, and her thumb grazes along my swollen cheek.

I wince in response, yet all I can think about is, “How the hell am I going to be able to talk myself out of this mess?” I’ve become the most compulsive liar over the past few months in an attempt to cover Simon’s tracks.

I hate it.

“Who did this to you? ” Her voice turns frantic, yet her brows crease in concern. “Who did this, huh?”

“No one.” I gulp, attempting to shake my head in denial. “It was no one. I just… fell and banged my cheek off of?—”

A door slamming shut in the distance is enough to cut me off mid-lie, prompting my eyes to dart backward where not only do I see Simon escape the greenhouse, but I watch the way he’s scanning the crowd for me in agitation. I cower inwards, desperate at this point to get out of here.

“It was him.” Ruby follows my gaze, mutually staring over at Simon as he parades his way back towards the party without a care in the world. His posture is tall, his face is relaxed, and his knuckles are completely out of sight as he tucks his hand into either pocket, all the while, my cardigan is nowhere to be seen.

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