Page 78 of The Pursuit of Happiness

I hurry to put it back on and zip it up just as he opens the door and steps out in nothing but a towel. I hate how I’m still attracted to him. I hate how I can still admire someone who lied to me and played with me for months. I hate that I trusted him and believed him when he said he wasn’t involved in the tape.

When his eyes land on me and my disheveled state, the smile on his face falls. His eyes roam from my face, to my dress, andfinally to my hand that holds the phone so tightly. His eyes narrow on the phone, “What is that?” He asks.

I try to fight the tears back. I won’t let him have my tears. He’s already taken so much. “You tell me,” I command, betrayal in my voice.

He walks closer and I hold a hand out for him to stop. He looks hurt and so confused and I don’t buy any of it. “Aria, what’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” I ask, hatred in my voice.

He shakes his head in complete feigned confusion, “Like you hate me.”

He plays the dutiful boyfriend part so well that I have to remind myself it’s all based on lies. Every single kiss, every touch, every smile, all of it was a lie. Our relationship was a lie and he used me. He never loved me. All he cared about was ruining me and my career and for what? Is this about the Muse Award? I feel so violated, I want to shrivel inside myself and die.

I laugh through my pain, “Hate you? I fucking despise you.”

He flinches, “What? Why are you saying that?”

I raise the phone higher and he catches sight of the blue metallic gleam when it meets the light. Realization makes its way across his face and I watch as he realizes I found his phone. That he’s been caught. “Where did you find that?”

I seethe, “I found it in the nightstand. The one you stocked up for me. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find it?”

He shakes his head, a confused look in his eyes, “Woah woah, wait. You thinkIput it there?”

I’m practically screaming, “Who else would’ve put it there, Slater?”

He tries to take a step closer but I snap, “Do not fucking come near me! Do not touch me!”

I watch as he seems to crumble, “You think it’s mine?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“It isn’t mine, Aria,” he looks sincere but I don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth. He’s lost my trust completely.

I scoff, “You expect me to believe a word that comes out of your mouth after I just discovered that all of this was a lie?”

He snaps, “None of this was a lie.”

I bellow, “Don’t you dare try to keep this charade up.” I feel the tears rising. I need to get out of here before they fall.

I try to charge around him but he grabs my arms. “I wouldneverdo this to you. I didn’t put the phone there and I most certainly didn’t have it. I’ve never seen that phone before just now.”

I shake my head and push him off me, “Stop lying to me.” My voice cracks and a treacherous tear falls. I want to wipe it away but he’s already seen it. I take a deep breath as they all start to stream down my cheeks, “I am such a fool for ever believing you actually loved me.”

He reaches for me but I step around him, “No! Aria, no! You have to listen to me! Please!”

I ignore him and continue rushing out of his room. I hurry down the stairs and he’s hot on my heels. I grab my heels and don’t even bother to put them on, too desperate to get out. I open the front door to leave but he slams it shut with one palm from behind me and turns me, pressing my back against the door as his arms cage me in with his body. “I never once lied to you, Aria. Not once,” his eyes look red rimmed and glassy as if he’s about to cry himself.

I angle my face away from his, unable to look at him. “Just tell me one thing and please for once just tell me the truth. Was it about the Muse Award the whole time?”

He slams his fist against the door, “Goddammit, Aria! You aren’t listening to me. None of this has been a lie and I most certainly don’t give a single fuck about that award.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head as more tearsstream down my cheeks. Why can’t he just tell me the truth? Why not just grant me this slight pity?

I turn and reach for the door knob, trying to open it, but he won’t let me. He keeps his hand pressed against the door. “Please. Just let me go,” I beg through tears, facing the wall.

He hesitates for a few moments before he removes his hand. “I’m begging you to listen to me,” he pleads, a weight to his voice.

I open the door and take a step out, not wanting to hear what he has to say. I can’t trust a word that comes from his mouth. I will never look at him the same again.

---