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He stands suddenly, then laughs. But it’s not a happy, carefree sound. It’s strained, confused.
“You’re joking, right?” he says.
I don’t respond.
He shakes his head, incredulous. “The Louisa Cunningham?”
This time I give a single nod.
But Ward still can’t seem to accept it. “Why the hell are you here? Working as Haymore’s assistant?”
“It’s hard to explain.” My nakedness feels like more of an issue now, and I cross my arms across my chest. Not that it hides much.
“Who knows?” he asks. “Haymore?”
“No, of course not. No one knows. No one here, at least. Except you. And that reporter. That’s what he was using to threaten me.”
“So you… what?” he says. “Decided to come back here on a whim? Decided to play spy or something?”
“I’m not spying,” I say. “It’s not like I can just run off and report everything I’ve seen here and have some mighty influential power sweep in and fix things. No one cares what my opinion is on the changes they’ve made here. And even if they did, there’s nothing I or anyone I know can do about it.”
“I don’t get it,” he says. He’s truly agitated. Far more upset than I expected him to be at this stage. Deep down inside of me, I thought he might actually understand.
“I needed closure,” I say. “But I couldn’t just waltz over here and give myself the grand tour. Even if they let me have a look around, which I doubt, you know they would’ve been watching me. ‘Oh, how’s poor little Lou dealing with her family’s downfall?’ I needed to figure some things out, and I needed to do it on my own. Without every news outlet breathing down my neck.” I’m starting to sound a little deranged, but I don’t care. I’m exhausted. My body feels like it could give out at any minute. And Ward’s looking at me in a way that breaks my heart.
“Look,” I say desperately. “I know you don’t think very highly of my family. Or anyone with money. But—”
“Is that what you think I’m upset about? The money?”
I tighten my arms across my chest. “I seem to remember some heated conversations in which you made your opinion on rich people very clear. Well, I don’t have money anymore. And I probably won’t for a long time.” My mind is reeling. In spite of my fear, I thought he’d get it. I thought he might see where I was coming from.
He shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear anything I just said to you? It’s not the money. It’s the attitude that the whole world revolves around you. The idea that you can get away with whatever you want, at anyone’s expense, because of your name or the bills in your pocket. Did you ever once stop to think about the people who you were lying to?”
And there it is—the pain. In his eyes. In every rigid line of his body. This isn’t some fairy tale where the lowly cowherd reveals himself as a prince and carries his true love off to his castle to live happily ever after. This is the real world.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I say. “Or anyone. I know I lied about my name, but I promise, everything else I said to you was true. Every joke. Every opinion. All of it.”
“All of it? You didn’t tell me half of it.”
“You kept things from me, too,” I whisper. “You hid the truth about your family.”
“Yeah, I didn’t give you my life story. But I never lied about my name.”
“It’s just a name.”
“It’s more than just a name, and you know it,” he says. “But even if it were, you’re okay with the fact that I’ve been calling you by some made-up name when we were fucking?”
Fucking. I flinch at the word.
“No, it’s not okay. I hated it. But I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“It’s simple. You should have just opened your mouth and told me.”
It’s not simple. I don’t care what he says. I can’t believe I thought he might understand this. I guess I’m an idiot on top of being a selfish, lying bitch.
I can feel the panic coming on. Feel it snaking up my arms and legs. I’m breathing too fast. I need to get out of here. I turn around and go for my clothes, snatching them up piece by piece.
Behind me, Ward lets out a breath. “Come on, Addi—Louisa.” The name sounds strange coming from him.
“Come on, let’s what?” I hear myself say. It doesn’t sound like me. “Go over the ways in which I’m a terrible person? Don’t worry. I get it.” I pull my tank top over my head. “Forgive me for trying to open up to you.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what? Annoyed with myself for thinking you might understand? Screw it. I guess we’re more different than I thought. But don’t worry. You won’t have to deal with me anymore.” Even as I say it, I curse myself for turning this around on him. I deserve it. I brought this upon myself.
“Don’t make this my fault. I’m not the one who lied.” He seems to have realized that I’m not going to sit back down, so he’s started reaching for his own clothes.
I throw up my hands. “I get it. I’m a terrible, selfish person. I lied about my name to protect myself and I didn’t think about how that might make you feel. I’m used to doing whatever the heck I want to, and that makes me no different than Carolson and anyone else who’s screwed you over.” There are tears running down my cheeks, but I can’t stop them. My heart is in my throat, trying to squeeze out my breath, but somehow I can’t shut up. “I’m a bitch. A horrible, self-centered bitch. I lie. I use people. And I’m used to getting away with it.”
I’m fully dressed now, and I turn and storm to the door. Ward calls to me, but I’m already on the stairs. Running.
It’s easy to run. It hurts, at the end of the day, but it’s easy. And it’s kind of a pattern for me.
I hate this place. I hate the people here. I hate the spa and the crafts cottages and those stupid cherubs that are everywhere. They seem to mock me as I run past, laughing at me and pointing with their chubby fists. How did I ever delude myself into thinking that coming back here would be good for me? That it would help me find peace? It was self-torture, plain and simple. A way to pay my penance for the things I’ve done.
But it’s over. I’m finished with it all. There’s no hope for me.
