Page 23 of Fake To Forever

The photographers flinch at her words, but they don't retreat. Instead, they become more frenzied, angling their cameras for a better shot through the slightly ajar door.

I grab Haven’s arm, steering her back down the hallway and away from the relentless scrutiny of the prying eyes.

“Let's talk in here,” I say, gesturing to an unoccupied classroom.

Once inside, I close the door behind us and turn around to face her. There’s a bewildered look on her face as she wraps her arms around herself protectively, distancing herself from me.

“Chris,” she says, and though there’s fear in her voice, there’s also a strength that surprises and impresses me. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I…” My confession sticks in my throat again as I struggle to find the right words. I don’t want to hurt Haven, or worse, lose her trust completely. But it seems like I don’t have a choice now.

Taking a deep breath, I look at her squarely in the eyes and say with brutal honesty, “My real name is Christian Tallow. I’m… I'm not exactly who you think I am."

Her eyes widen in surprise as she processes this information. “Tallow? As in Tallow Oil?”

“Yes,” I admit with a slight nod.

She takes a step back from me as if she's been physically struck by my admission.

“Why didn't you tell me?” She looks hurt and disappointed. “Was this some kind of joke to you?”

“No!” The word leaves my lips more forcefully than I intend it to. “It was never a joke, Haven.”

“Then why lie about who you are?” Her voice trembles with emotion; anger, betrayal… it kills me to see it.

“I didn’t want my past or my money changing how people saw me,” I say quietly. “I just wanted to be a normal person again.”

She seems to contemplate my words, her brown eyes studying mine intently. I know she’s trying to come to terms with this new information, and I can only hope that she'll find it in her heart to forgive me.

The silence between us is palpable. Overwhelmed by the situation, Haven takes a seat at one of the miniature desks meant for the children and buries her face into her hands. I watch her, torn between wanting to comfort her and giving her space.

Right then, we hear a knock on the door, followed by Maggie's voice, “Chris… Haven… the police are here.”

“Let them deal with the photographers. We need a moment,” I call out, not taking my eyes off Haven.

“Alright, just letting you know,” Maggie responds, her voice sounding worried and uncertain before fading away.

Silence stretches between us again, a discomforting quiet that's only broken by the faint murmur of voices outside the door and the occasional camera flash that seeps in from the semi-closed blinds.

Haven finally lifts her head from her hands, her eyes rimmed red but determined.

“You’re right,” she says quietly. “You didn’t have to tell me. It’s your life, not mine.”

Her words sting like a slap to my face. It isn't what I expect nor what I hope for. I want her to yell at me so we can argue it out, not this form of harsh acceptance that creates an insurmountable wall between us.

“I…” The words don't come easily to me now. Haven watches me patiently, her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive stance.

I clear my throat and try again, “What I mean is… yes,” I take an uneasy breath, gathering my thoughts before finally speaking, “It's my life. But, Haven,” I feel a desperate plea building up inside me, “I didn’t intend to deceive you. It’s just… it’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it’s complicated,” she grumbles. “Still… you could have told me. You should have told me, especially since we…”

Since we kissed. She doesn’t say it, but I know that’s what she’s thinking. She thought we’d crossed a line when I was just Chris, a blue-collar single dad who worked for the oil rig. Now, I’m Christian Tallow, and as much as I hate it, I know that might change everything between us.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” she says, shaking her head. “I need to get back to the kids… my aide is probably freaking out and I don’t want the kids getting scared with all this commotion.”

“Haven, I’m sorry…”

She turns to walk away and pauses briefly at the door to look over at me from her shoulder. “We’ll talk later… Christian.”

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