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“Maybe he’s just confused why I stood him up?”
“You didn’t stand?—”
“Well, yeah, but he might think?—”
“He read my texts, Ellie,” she says quietly. “I explained exactly what happened.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“No, that’s… That doesn’t make sense.”
“Check your social media.”
My pulse thuds as I open Facebook on my phone.
Holy shit.
Blocked. It’s the same on Instagram and Twitter.
My hand trembles as I call Alistair’s number and bring my phone to my ear. It goes right to voicemail.
Oh my God.
“I…” I look wildly at my sister. “I don’t understand?—”
“Eloise.”
She smiles sadly at me as she takes my phone away and then holds my hand in hers.
“You don’t need me to say the obvious, do you?”
“I…”
“He got what he wanted, Ellie,” she says quietly.
“N-no,” I say, shaking my head, thinking back to that night. It wasn’t just my body I shared with him, it was so much more. And he shared things about himself—his vague memories of his biological parents. The accident that sent him to the Black family. He said he told me things he’d never told anyone before.
There is no way all of that was just to get laid.
Right?
Oh God…
“You didn’t want Alistair, Ellie. Not really. You wanted what you thought he could give you. But I promise you, if you’d stayed with him?” She shakes her head. “Trust me. I’ve known guys like him. He would have slowly dimmed your light. He would have cut you off from your friends, and from me. From your own sister!” She squeezes my hand. “You want my advice?”
I nod in a daze.
“Forget that asshole. Forget all about him. You’re better off without him in your life.” She smiles and squeezes my hand. “We both are.”
I manage to hold it together until she leaves to get a cup of coffee. Then it all comes crashing down in a smoking pile of tears, blood, and pain.
Present:
When it comes out, it’s like when a dam gives way and the floodgates rip off their hinges.
He tells me the full, awful story about what he saw when he came to my room that night. And when those pieces drop into place, and I realize who he saw that night, it’s like getting shot in the heart.
Camille.
