Page 109 of The Wedding Pact
‘Callie … ’ August pleaded, her voice quiet, but Callie refused to look up.
‘What is this?’ Mrs Anderson continued, holding the photo in the air. ‘I thought it was just you two having a bit of fun until this one—’ she jabbed the picture towards Allen ‘—told me it was a picture from your wedding day. Imagine my surprise! I certainly don’t remember an invite to your wedding!’
‘Perhaps they eloped?’ Maud suggested and then backed away from August’s mother’s death stare.
‘Yes, maybe it was a long time ago and they forgot to tell you,’ Allen added. Maud swatted him for his ridiculous suggestion.
Mrs Anderson tutted. ‘They did not elope, they are just flatmates, they didn’t even know each other before they moved in here.’
‘They didn’t,’ Callie said, but it sounded less like a question and more a quiet confirmation, like she’d suspected as much, somehow.
‘Look, August, I know you like playing the actress, but this has clearly gone far enough. Either you’re pretending to be married to him for some reason, or you’ve completely left me in the dark about the relationship you two really have. So come on, who are you lying to. Them? Or me?’
Them. Or her.
There were really only two choices here. Either August and Flynn confessed to the lie, or they dove even deeper into it by starting a whole new lie to her mum. It was a no brainer, of course, and with all the exhaustion August had felt from carrying around this secret for the past six months, she slid her eyes back towards the neighbours and whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’
Flynn found her hand, hanging limply at her side. ‘I’m sorry, too. It was all my fault.’
Maud and Allen left first, heads down, mutterings of ‘let’s leave them to it, dear, we can find out the truth tomorrow.’
Callie’s mum collected up her and her daughter’s belongings, without looking at Flynn or August, and made for the door.
Callie was silent for a moment, hurt in her expression, the weight of the deceit rooting her to the spot. And then she walked past August without another word.
‘Callie? Let me explain.’
‘Not now,’ she said, and closed the door behind her.
August faced her mum, who put the picture down on the shelf again. ‘I don’t know what that was all about,’ she said, eventually. ‘But perhaps one of you can make me a cup of tea and I can lend you an ear. Honestly, August, it’s tall tales like this that make me feel your grandmother is back with us, sometimes.’
Chapter 82
August
The following morning, on Sunday, August lay in bed after a restless night wondering how she’d let the web she’d woven get destroyed, instead of untangling it herself when she had the chance. Because let’s be honest, she’d had a lot of chances. They both had.
Now they all knew, and they all probably hated her and Flynn. But even if they did, even if there was no way she could make up for the lies and deceit, the least she could do was make sure there weren’t any more.
She and Flynn had agreed, yesterday evening, that they would tell Mrs Haverley together, after she confessed to Abe first. She wanted to be the one to do that, alone.
But first she wanted to talk to Callie.
August crept out of her room and listened at Flynn’s door to see if he was awake, but the apartment was silent. So she left him a note. A note, rather than a text, felt like it had just the right blend of personal touch and dramatic flair.
Morning, Flynn,
I’ve decided to go up and talk to Callie about us. I hope you don’t mind that we haven’t done this together but I want to clear the air with her, if I can, as soon as possible. I hope you understand.
So this is it … the truth comes out today.
She hesitated, not sure whether or not to write the next bit. But it felt right, and it felt like the truth, so she went for it.
Whatever happens, Flynn, you’ve been the most amazing first husband a girl could ask for. Thank you. For everything.
Aug xx
August picked up her yoga mat, and left the apartment.
