Page 58 of Constantine: Britain's Story: Part 2
This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I know I have to do it. If I don’t do this now, I know I’ll lose the nerve, and never follow through. I’m sorry that this is coming at you with no warning, but it is something I’ve been thinking about for awhile now.
I should start from the beginning. I’ve lied to you. I promised I wouldn’t lie to you, so I’m going to tell you all the truths now. No matter how ugly they seem, I have to get it out there. Then you can decide how you want to move forward.
First, I was the one who forced Matt to break up with you. I thought you knew this, which is why I haven’t said anything about it. I only just found out yesterday, when I called Matt to tell him about us. That’s when he told me you didn’t know the full story. I had resolved to tell you when I got home, but you were in the bathroom crying. And you’d just found out this awful thing about your family’s past, and I didn’t want to add to your pain.
I should have told you the moment I knew that you didn’t know, and I’m sorry. Truly. The reasons I asked Matt to do it are numerous, and I’ll get to them, but in order to do that, I have to go back to the start. Our start.
I lied to you the first time I met you, too. You asked me if I believed in fate, and I said no. When we first met, I couldn’t even see you for the first couple of minutes, but I didn’t have to. I felt you, and I just had this feeling come over me that you were special. To me. I wanted to get to know you, I wanted to soak up every minute with you in that dingy bathroom. And honestly, I didn’t believe in fate, until I met you.
I was standing outside that bathroom when I got what most people would think was terrible news. My girlfriend of five years was dumping me. She’d been cheating on me. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t hurt, I was just annoyed, then indifferent. Then you, you hit me in the head with that door, and from the moment I heard your voice, I felt something. You made me feel something in that minute that five years with my ex never even touched.
It only got better when I opened my eyes. You were so beautiful that day. I’ll never forget your sun-kissed cheeks and the way you gave me this little half smile. You had the sweetest demeanor and you were so tender about the way you cared for me. You could have asked me for anything right then and I would have given it to you.
I had a moment where I thought, “Is this fate?” Nancy sent me that message just as you opened that door. What are the chances? It felt like one part of my life died and another began in that fraction of a second. Nancy and I had argued the day before and I told her, fairy tales aren’t real, fate’s not real. This is just life.
I don’t know why, but I had to know if you believed in fate. It was a dumb thing to ask, but for some reason I had toknow. And guess what you told me? You didn’t believe in fate. Believing in fate would mean believing in fairy tales, and you didn’t believe in those. I couldn’t help but smile. It was like you took the words right out of my mouth. If ever fate existed, it was in that moment, in that bathroom. And I saw you, like the answer to a wish I didn’t even know I made.
But then you asked if I believed in fate, and I lied to you. I said no. Ten minutes earlier, and that answer would have been the truth. But after you, I’d always thought it was fate, meeting you that day. I walked out of that bathroom determined. I was going to find you, but when I did, none of it made sense.
You were Georgia’s daughter, you were with Matt, and you were 18. I felt like the biggest idiot. I couldn’t date you. I was so much older, you were too young. I didn’t think you looked 18. You definitely looked younger than me, but not 18. It was like getting punched in the stomach. I resigned myself that whatever I felt for you then was misplaced. Maybe the breakup had been harder on me than I realized and that’s all it was.
In the back of my mind, though, I always harbored these feelings for you. I denied them because I wasn’t that old guy trying to date someone 14 years younger than me, but they were still there. You’ve always been there. Which brings me back to why I convinced Matt to break up with you.
The company was under water at the time. We’d made a couple bad investments, and it was on me to come up with the next thing, so I did. I put all my passion into a project I believed in. It ended up being Broken Ridge, but back when I met you, it was still just an idea. When I was finally able to pull it all together, the entire project hinged on one person, and that was Julie Scala. She had brokered this deal with her father for the land, for us. It was an amazing deal; one I knew I’d never see again in this lifetime.
She had one demand in order to finalize it: She needed me to get Matt to break up with you. I was a bit confused by her demand at first, but, if I’m being honest, I didn’t fight her on it. I didn’t want you to be with Matt either. You couldn’t be mine, but I didn’t want you to be his. It seemed like a special kind of torture to have to watch you get married to him someday, have his kids someday, and so I agreed to Julie’s stipulation.
When she asked me to do it, she told me it was because you were Constantine’s daughter. I don’t know that I believed this, but it helped me justify to myself that I was doing the right thing in telling Matt he needed to end it with you. I didn’t know Matt would do it the way he did. I thought he would explain it to you, how I had asked him (forced him) to do this. But, he didn’t.
A couple months after that, I found out from Georgia that you’d moved away. I thought that was the best outcome for everyone involved, honestly. But I was wrong. Again.
I had no idea that you moved because of Matt, that you never got over him. I thought you moved on, and were probably happy to escape the valley. I didn’t know, Britain. I’m so sorry. I really didn’t know until I overheard you talking to Damian today.
You’ve given me the happiest days of my life, Britain. I’m absolutely convinced that if it doesn’t work between us, it won’t work out for me with anyone. You are it for me. You are everything, my everything.
But what if I’m not it for you? What if I never was?
You spent 17 years never being able to get over Matt. Our six weeks is nothing compared to that. It would be one thing if you never got over him, but Matt was happy and settled in his life. But he’s not. He never got over you either. He’s still waiting for you.
There’s a very large part of me that wants to say, I don’t care. I’d rather have you, even if you have one foot out thedoor, than not have you at all. But what kind of life is that? What example are we setting for the girls by doing that? I want you, Britain, but only if you want me the same way. Without reservation, without caveats, without ghosts from our past looming over our relationship.
You deserve to be so fucking happy, Britain. I can’t take that from you. I’d rather be miserable, but know you’re happy, truly happy. I won’t be the one to take that from you again.
I’m going to give you the space to figure it out. I’ve let Matt know that you and I are no longer together. Whatever happens next is up to you, and him. I’m removing myself from the equation. I’m turning off my phone and I’m going to go work in Sonoma for the next 4 months. That’s all I can give. If you need longer than that, I’ll know you can’t decide and that’s a decision in itself. I can’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, wondering if you wish I was the other guy. And I can’t wait longer than 4 months. I want to give you the time you need, but I also need to know how to proceed with my life.
We don’t have to have a confrontation about it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. If you’d rather be with Matt, just don’t be at our house in Spearhead on October 7th. If you’re not there, I’ll know. I’ll pack up the house and move to Sonoma permanently. I will completely disappear from your life.
I still can’t believe you showed up at Broken Ridge, that you rented my house. You’ll always be a part of me, Britain. Even if you don’t choose me, you’ll always be the best part of me. I probably won’t ever stop loving you, but if you want to be with Matt, cut me loose so I at least have a chance at trying to stop.
If you decide earlier, you know where to find me.
I love you, Britain,
Liam
The tears stream down my face, a drop rolling down my nose and falling onto the paper in front of me. I blot at it, trying toprevent it from making the ink bleed, then set the letter aside and drop my face into my hands.I love him so much. So fucking much.
Fuck, Liam. I quickly change out of my leggings and tee, opting for a nap dress and sliding on sandals. A brief look in the full-length mirror doesn’t do much for my confidence. I’m not wearing any makeup, and my hair is still wet, but I don’t care. I’m moving at full speed right now.
