Page 195 of The Liar's Reckoning

Or whatever.

Graham

If you want a tour, just ask.

Me

I’d love a tour.

Graham

Then I’d be happy to get off in Philly.

It doesn’t hurt to pretend. Not anyone but us, anyway. It might be stupid, but I think the worst is over. It’s hard to imagine anything hurting me more than he already has. Does it pick the scab to be with him? Of course. But there will be a time in the near future where the possibility of seeing him will cease to exist. I look forward to it. But while I’m still living in this timeline, I don’t see the harm in giving my body what it wants most.

One final fling for the road. A vacation from mourning the loss of him. Vacations end, and this will too, but it could be fun while it lasts.

I book a train to Philly, and he sends me the address of a hotel.

60

GRAHAM

Explaining the stop in Philadelphia to my two-man security detail requires some lying on my part. I eventually settle on a last minute meeting with an unnamed congressperson. If I were able to think clearly, I might have been able to come up with a name, but the only one in my head isSilas, Silas, Silas.

At any rate, they buy it. I’ve been dodging them with ease lately. They never even knew I left my Upper West Side apartment yesterday. I left my real phone in my bedroom and taken a cheap “burner” phone with me to Silas’s place.

This, though, I wasn’t expecting. Not after the way we left things. I can’t presume to know what goes on in my ex’s head anymore, but he keeps surprising me. Initiating a booty call was not on my bingo card of things Silas mighteverdo, much less twenty-four hours after I told him my family was responsible for everything shitty that happened to him in the last year.

It feels too good to be true—like no way would he let me off this easy. Plus, I’m not sure I want off this hook. If more suffering is in store, so be it. I’m forever at his mercy, provided I can get out from beneath my father’s thumb from time to time.

It shouldn’t be hard tonight. I book three rooms at the hotel, ensuring Luke and Derrick are on another floor. They’ll have the night to do whatever they do when they’re not following me around, and I’ll be neatly tucked into my room, with my phone, free to let in whoever turns up. Since I won’t be leaving, they won’t have a thing to worry about. Tomorrow morning, I’ll tell them the meeting got rescheduled, and I’ll be back on the train by noon or so.

The call from my father comes like clockwork. “Who are you meeting with?”

“She’s local,” I tell him. “You probably wouldn’t have heard of her. Tough primary.”

“What does she want with you?”

“Endorsement.”

“What’s her name? I want to look her up.”

“Hey, Dad—you’re cutting out. Let me call you after I check into the hotel.” And have time to do a little research.

I click into my location app to see Silas’s dot approaching Pennsylvania. I stare at it a long moment, having some trouble believing this is happening. But unless he tossed his phone on a train in some elaborate prank to put me in my place, I have to trust what I’m seeing.

On the drive to the hotel, I manage to find a local Republican woman running in a primary for the state house. She’s fairly extreme, but I send her an email wishing her well and letting her know to reach out if I can do anything to help. Then I send my father her name.

He gives me a thumbs up in approval, and I don’t know what to make of that. If he really thinks I’d support someone whose banner pledge is to return marriage to men and women, then I’ve done a great job at making him believe I’ve turned into a monk.

I admit, the idea of becoming a monk has crossed my mind as a viable next step. I’ve even, in my darker hours, researched monasteries. I’m not cut out for the priesthood—I could neverminister to a room full of true believers, but I could lock up my cock, keep my mouth shut, and learn how to garden, or whatever monks do.

I’ve spent all day out of chastity, and it’s been torture, making me remember why I caged myself in the first place. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve sprung an erection—like my dick is making up for lost time. The one I have now has been painfully persistent since the train pulled into the station. I’m dying to get into my room.

The check-in process goes smoothly, and Luke sees me to my floor. Once I thank him, and am safely alone behind a closed door, I text Silas.

Me

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