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Mary

I’m staring at the screen, the words blurring before my eyes. Connor’s message pulses like a neon sign in my tangled thoughts.

Connor: I’m here.

I don’t know if I can do this.

My finger hovers over the reply button, trembling.

Meeting Chris, the man who turned my world upside down through mere text messages and phone calls. Chris... the man whose very name had once made my heart flutter with girlish infatuation. But not the man who, as it turns out, fucked and then left me the next morning.

That man I’ve spent countless nights dreaming about, wondering why he left me without a goodbye. No, sorry. Just a pathetic note.

C, as in Connor, not Chris.

Connor. The name tastes bitter on my tongue now, tainted by his lies. How could he do this to me? Pretend to be someone else? And then reappear in my life, seduce me, make me fall for him... only for me to find out it was him all along?

I want to hate him. I should hate him.

But even now, with anger coursing through my veins and betrayal squeezing my heart, I can’t.

I fucking can’t, and I hate myself for it.

The memory of his touch, his kiss, the way he made me feel alive, cherished, and wanted. That I’m enough. The way his eyes see through my defenses and into my deepest desires. I hate myself for still wanting him, for craving his presence like a drug.

Damn him.

Damn me for still wanting him, despite everything.

Looking into Connor’s eyes when I told him I needed to meet Chris was awful. His eyes, usually so piercing and confident, dimmed with something akin to resignation and defeat. The way his shoulders slumped, it seemed he knew this moment was inevitable. He knew I could never fully be his until I confronted Chris.

A part of me ached at his hurt, my resolve wavering for the briefest moment before I steeled myself.

I don’t know what to believe anymore. Is Chris the man I fell in love with, or is he a monster in disguise? Is Connor telling the truth, or is he just trying to keep me for himself?

Trying to steady my nerves, I take a deep breath.

So, I have to know the truth. I need to do this for myself. For the girl who fell in love with a stranger in a mask, the girl who’s been chasing a fantasy for far too long. I have to do this. I need answers and closure.

My hands tremble as I type out a response.

Mary: I’ll be right down.

I grab my purse and suitcase, my movements automatic and robotic. “Well, I guess this is it.” I aim for nonchalance even as my voice wavers slightly.

Gemma engulfs me in a tight embrace. “Are you sure you want to go through with this alone? Lil and I could come with you, keep you company.”

They have their own plans. Elijah wants to whisk Gemma away to the beach, and Lil will be off to a spa weekend. I know they would cancel the second I said I needed them there, but maybe it’s better if it’s just Connor and me. And at least they should have a good time, especially Lil.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Connor will be there.” He is the last person I should want by my side, but what’s weird is that I feel safe knowing he’ll be by my side.

“Have you forgiven him?” Lil asks.

I’ve been wrestling with that question for what feels like years and still don’t know the answer. When I arrived at the office and saw the cameras pointed at me or my energy drinks and coffee magically transforming into water while I was at a meeting, I was relieved.

It’s so stupid that I was relieved that my stalker was still there. But he hid away, watching me from afar, so I did the only thing I could think of to get him out of there, taking me away from his view. If that hadn’t done the trick, I would have taken some poor guy on a date again. I wonder how that would have turned out.

“I don’t know.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “But he’s trying to make things right. That has to count for something.”

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