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My eyes meet his. “You remember?”
“It had hearts on it,” he says. “Glittery hearts.”
“I used to fantasise about you recognising me one day. But you didn’t.”
“You were a kid,” he says. “I saw a million kids that week.”
“But only one with a sparkly tobacco tin.”
“You had darker hair,” he said.
“I dyed it for you,” I tell him. “Because I saw those pictures of Debbie Harry in your storage room.”
“I gathered as much.”
I take a deep breath. It feels so good to breathe. “This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I was going to be a lawyer, just like you. I was going to go to uni and become the very best, and then I was going to come for a job with you. I thought if we were colleagues… I thought if I could impress you…”
“You planned that all those years ago?”
I nod. “I worked hard for straight-As all the way through the rest of high school, all the way through college, too.”
He squeezes my shoulder and I know then that Sonnie told him.
I feel the tears welling up before I’ve even said another word.
“My parents were out for their anniversary. Dad took Mum out to the place they met, a little Italian place they loved. I was babysitting for Joe. I told them to have a good time. They were really happy, Dad bought Mum orchids, they were her favourite.”
“You don’t have to tell me this,” he says, but I want to. I want him to know everything.
“It was a stupid rich kid who hit them, driving his dad’s car way over the speed limit. The police said he didn’t slow down, didn’t even see them.”
“Did they prosecute?”
I shake my head. “Rich lawyer, not enough evidence. Circumstantial, they said. He had a good college record.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever get up. I didn’t think I could go on living. But I have a little brother, Joseph. He wasn’t even twelve months old.”
“You take care of him?”
I nod. “I quit college and claimed benefits for a while, but I hated it. That isn’t what I want for Joe. My parents worked hard, I want him to see me work hard too. So my friend Dean sleeps on my sofa, he said he’d take care of Joe so I could find a job. I found yours, and I hoped… I hoped maybe… if I could just be close to you…”
“You were close to me,” he hisses. “I bought you peaches and fucking chocolate. I left you fucking notes. A bottle of wine.” He sighs. “I chased you down the fucking street, Lissa. Why the fuck didn’t you stop for me? Why the fuck did you choose to lie instead?”
I prop myself up on an elbow and my heart is racing. “I was your cleaner. I was a nobody. I am a nobody, and you’re… everything.”
“I chased you down the fucking street, Melissa. Jesus Christ.” He’s angry again. His body is so rigid. I want to touch him but I don’t dare.
“I was already in with Claude. I’d already filmed that slutty video. If I’d gone back when you called, if I’d introduced myself before you’d seen it and then you did…”
“I wouldn’t have fucking seen it!” he hisses. “I’d already quit that shit. I was going cold fucking turkey, going fucking insane over a cleaner I’d never fucking met.”
I didn’t know.
How it fucking hurts.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I thought if I could just… be someone… if I could love what you love… maybe you’d love me like I love you.”
“So you lied? Snooped on me, and dug into all my fucking things, and then lied to me? Played me like a fucking fool?”
“I’m not even nineteen. I was a cleaner taking care of her younger brother. I didn’t think you’d even look at me.”
“But I did!” he snaps. “I fucking did!” He rolls away from me and it pains so much to face his back. “This is so fucked up,” he says. “I believed all of it, every fucking thing you said, and it was all just a fucking act.”
“Was,” I tell him. “But it isn’t now. I am that person. I’m everything I pretended to be, I swear.”
He laughs a horrible laugh. “Stop it.”
“I love the things that you love. I love the gemstones and I love Kings and Castles. I loved that gig so much it made me cry, and it was all real.”
“Please stop,” he says.
“And I love Brutus. I love you.”
“You don’t even fucking know me,” he snaps. “And I sure as hell don’t know you.”
“That’s not true,” I whisper. “It was real. Everything I felt was real.” I don’t want to cry again but I can’t stop. “And everything you felt was real, too. I felt it. I felt you. I still do.”
“Just fucking stop,” he snaps, but I can’t.
“I was going to tell you last weekend, right after Dean. But you were so angry when you found out I knew him. I was scared that if I said anything you’d never speak to me again.”
“Good job you averted that fucking crisis.” His sarcasm cuts.
“I fucked up,” I say. “I just wanted to say sorry, that’s why I came here.”
“And you said it.”
I want to beg for forgiveness. I want to fall at his feet and beg him to give me another chance.
But I don’t.
I don’t deserve another chance.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” he says. “I’m sorry you had to give up on college. I’ll make sure you get the money from Claude. I’ll take your bank details and pay it over myself. It can be a new start. Put yourself back through college.” He rolls to face me, but he feels so far away.
“And what about you?”
“I’m leaving,” he says and my heart shatters. “I meant what I said, I’m done with bailing rich cunts out every day of my life. I’m done with my father and his shitty fucking business.”
I wipe the tears from my eyes. “I wish I could come with you.”
“Yeah, well, so do I,” he says, and gets up from the bed. “Maybe in a parallel universe. Maybe somewhere there’s a Melissa who turned around on the street that day.”
“I hope so,” I cry. “I hope that other Melissa is so much happier than I am right now.”
I crawl from the bed and reach for my handbag. I dig inside for his fire opal and offer it over to him. “You should have this back,” I say.
“You don’t want it?”
I have to catch a sob. “I love it,” I say. “But I lied to get it. It doesn’t belong to me.”
“Keep it,” he says.
I feel so defeated when I slip it back into my bag.
He puts his belt back on and fastens himself up. He smooths down his tie in the mirror.
We’re done here, and I wish I’d never started breathing again.
He drops to his knees to gather up the money from the floor. He taps it into a pile on the dresser and leaves it there.
He fastens up his watch and his cufflinks.
“I’ll call you a cab,” he says. “Where do you need to go?”
My stomach is nothing but pain as I give him my address. He calls me a cab and tells me it’ll be ten minutes, and then he lights up another cigarette.
I’m crying quiet tears as I get dressed.
I can’t bring myself to say goodbye, so I don’t. I stand in the middle of that hotel room looking at Alexander Henley for one last time, and he sees me.
He holds out his cigarette packet.
“For old times’ sake?”
I take one and he holds a lighter to the end for me.
It’s a perfectly awful end for us. It makes me smile a sad smile.
“Go to college,” he says as he finishes his.
Please don’t leave, my soul screams, but I don’t say a word.
“Your cab should be here any minute,” he says.
I nod, and then I break. I rush towards him for one last touch, and he’s rigid in my arms but I don’t care. I don’t care that his jaw is gritted tight as I kis
s his cheek.
I don’t care that he doesn’t hold me back.
“It was real,” I whisper. “I was real.”
“Goodbye, Melissa,” he says.
And I go.
I leave his cash on the dresser, and my heart in that room behind me.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
ALEXANDER
SHE LEFT her cash on the dresser. I didn’t notice until too late.
That cunt Claude will have some fucking questions to answer, and I’ll get her all she’s owed.
I feel beaten as I head down to the reception and hand over my key card.
I feel defeated as I call a cab of my own and wait outside.
I wanted answers and I got them, but they don’t make me feel any better.
Neither does her apology.
Hope. Such a fragile thing. Such a ridiculous thing.
I’d enjoyed it while it lasted.
Hope teased me with a glimpse of another life, where I could love someone and they could love me back. A life where I wouldn’t have to be alone.
I hate the thought of starting over without her.
I hate the thought of running away from my shitty life with nobody to run for.
I climb into the back of the cab and give the driver my address.
And then I change my mind.
I give him hers instead.
Melissa Martin knows everything about me, and I still know virtually fuck all about her.
She crawled inside my mind and died there, and I don’t even know her middle name.
