Page 58 of The Lies Always Told

Gus turns around as soon as he’s on the porch. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes, but I don’t have the brain capacity right now to deal with his feelings when I’m trying so hard to keep mine in check. I will lose it, and I will spiral if he doesn’t get out of my sight quickly. I deserve to deal with my broken heart in peace. I deserve to cry and wallow in peace. And he deserves to go straight to hell.

“I really didn’t want this to go this way,” he says. There’s something in his tone, the way his eyes look genuinely sad, the way his lips quiver, I would believe him, except actions speak louder than words, and he truly doesn’t want me. At least, not the way I want him. Not the way I need him.

“Goodbye.” I slam the door and run to the bedroom, where I lock myself in the closet, slamming my back on the door and sliding down to the floor. I put my head between my knees and cry. And cry. And cry.

The seconds turn into minutes, and those minutes turn into agonizing hours of repeating the past few months on a loop. The laughs, the good memories, the intimate moments. Eventually, someone knocks on the door, and when I leave the closet, I find night has fallen. The moon shines brightly over the cabin and barely illuminates a path to the front door. I look through the peephole. What the hell?

I open the door to find Martin, Gus’ driver, standing on the porch with the same serious face he always has.

“Martin? What are you doing here?”

“Good evening, Miss Nellie. Mr. Augusto sent me to take you back home. He asked me to tell you to check your phone, even if it is the last thing you do today. His words are notmine, so I apologize.” I roll my eyes. I’m sure I look stupid, but I don’t have it in me to care.

“Come on in,” I say as I walk back to the room and look for my phone. It’s charging. He must have done that when I fell asleep. A slew of missed phone calls await me, some from Cara, one from my mom, and a few from Bee, with dozens of text messages from all of them combined.

And one message from Gus.

DLS: I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe it, but I mean it. Please let Martin take you home, even if it’s the last thing you take from me. Please.

No matter how angry and sad I am right now, I know I need to listen to him. I have no way of getting home. Martin must have left Jacksonville as soon as I kicked Gus out for him to have made it here by now. I grab the small bag I brought and a pair of socks from the drawer of clothes I keep here. I’m taking one of the pillows with me too, because I don’t want to do anything but sleep, and what better place to do it than in the backseat of a vehicle taking me back to reality? A reality in which my heart is shattered, and I have to pretend on Monday that I’m whole enough to work with broken-hearted pre-teens.

“Let’s go, Martin. I’m ready to go home.”

We leave, and with every single step I take, I feel like I’m leaving a version of myself behind that I never even knew I could be. The version of me who believes in love and good things. The version of me who believes I’m enough. With me, I take the version of me I was before, a hollow person looking to have a good time when possible, afraid of relenting control and feeling too much.

PART 3

THE CRASH

There was no warning, no time to prepare.

Too cold, too harsh

Too much, too fast.

I got lost in the undertow,

crying and screaming, out of control.

I heard my heart break like thunder,

and that was the moment I knew.

There was no escaping it.

The wave was already here.

And I was going down with it.

EIGHTEEN

FUCK OFF, BUDDY

SEPTEMBER

So Long,London by Taylor Swift

Nellie

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