Page 117 of Sparking Sara

He reaches out for me but I pull away. “Come on, Sara. I know you have feelings for me.”

“Feelings that were based on a lie,” I say. “How could you do that to me? I was hurt. I was comatose. I lost so much in that accident. How could you sit there and pretend we were in love when you knew I despised you for what you’d done?” I think about what we were about to do tonight. “You were going to let me sleep with you tonight. What kind of monster would do that?”

“I’m not a monster, Sara. It may have started off as revenge, but then I saw how much you changed. You weren’t the same person you were before the accident. I found myself liking the person you had become, and more, I liked myself when I was with you. And the hatred I felt for you soon turned into something else.” He stands up and crosses the room, reaching for me once again. “I’m in love with you, Sara. Can’t you see that? We’re good together.”

I slap his hand away. “Don’t touch me. Everything you feel is based on a lie.”

“Does it matter how we got here?” he asks. “You were going to sleep with me, Sara. In your world, you only met me a few months ago. You have feelings for me. You might even love me.”

“Love you?” I yell. “Oliver, do you know how many times I had to talk myself into letting you kiss me? Letting you touch me? I kept telling myself I was being ridiculous. That you were my fiancé and I needed to give it a chance. But deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. I should have listened to my gut. I should have followed my instincts when every time you touched me, I thought about—”

Suddenly, I remember who’s listening to this entire conversation.

“You thought about what?” Oliver asks. “You thought abouthim? Denver? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? He’s been feeding you lies. I knew that motherfucker wanted you from the start.”

“Denver has been nothing but gracious and helpful. He’s encouraged me to be with you.”

Oliver laughs. “I’ll bet my right arm he’s the one who told you about the phone. Is that what you were doing down in the bathroom? Was he reading you our texts? And you believe him?”

“Heshowedthem to me, Oliver. Of course I believe him. He has no reason to lie to me.”

“The hell he doesn’t. He wants to fuck you, Sara.”

Visions of our forbidden kisses flash through my mind. “He’s with Nora.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

I nod. “Right. Because in your world, it’s okay to cheat.”

“In your world, too, luv.”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” I say through gritted teeth. I walk to the closet and get out my suitcase, opening it on the bed. Then I pull an entire drawer from the dresser and dump out my clothes. “I don’t live in that world anymore.”

“You’re going back there for him?” he asks. “He’s no better than me, you know. Are you really willing to be his slut while he’s with another woman?” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Sara. Please stay. Give it another chance. No more lies, I promise.”

“I’m not going to be anyone’s slut. Least of all yours.” I rip my clothes off the hangers in the closet and throw them into my suitcase. Then I slip on my shoes, grab my purse, and head for the door, pulling my suitcase behind me. Before I walk out, I look back at him. He looks like a broken man. His eyes are filled with tears, making me wonder if what he said is true. Did he really fall in love with me? I almost feel sorry for him.Almost.

“If you try to contact me again, I’ll call the police and tell them everything. I’m quite sure you’ve broken some laws by deceiving me, not to mention the ones you broke with the paintings. I’ll have your stuff sent to yourrealapartment. You’ll have nothing to do with me, professionally or otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Sara …”

“Is that clear, Oliver?”

He backs up and sits on the bed, nodding over and over.

“I’m so sorry, Sara.”

Those are the last words I hear him say as I walk out of the room and race down the stairs. I don’t bother saying anything to his parents. What is there to say? They were just another part of his lies. And despite the fact that Oliver is a conniving bastard, his parents couldn’t have been nicer to me. I don’t want to hurt them. I’m sure he’ll do what he does best and make up more lies to explain my departure.

I walk to the corner and hail a taxi. Then I sit in the back seat and cry. Not only have I lost the past three years, but now, the past three months. I’m not even sure who I am anymore.

I hear a muffled voice and remember the call. I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Denver—I’m sorry, I forgot you were there.”

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What can I do?”

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