Her eyes widen in surprise. “I see.”
“I’m so sorry. Othello is not my boyfriend.”
Seconds go by. Collette is mute. Processing everything that just happened. Digesting my lie. The disappointment in her eyes is worse than anger. I feel nauseous.
The silence stretches between us, growing heavier with every passing second.
“So, you let me believe something that wasn’t true?”
I can’t even bring myself to look her in the eye.
“I”m sorry, Collette.”
A phone vibrates. Hers. And she answers, but not before giving me one last look.
A look I can’t quite read.
Anger.
Hurt.
Disgust.
Maybe all three.
39
bright side
MARLEY
So many emotionsare colliding inside of me right now. Embarrassment topping them all.
They settle heavy on my shoulders, and I simply sit with them alone on the sand.
How did I get here?
Days ago, I was an overworked editor who boarded a plane with fun things planned and the resolve not to let anything disrupt my vacation. Now I’m sitting here wondering if I’ve jeopardized the biggest opportunity of my career because of a lie.
I can’t get the look on Collette’s face out of my mind. She trusted me and believed in me enough to hand over an opportunity without hesitation. This chance would have givenModmore recognition. Put us on a level far greater than the one we’re currently on. She could have called any major publication she wanted. Instead, she chose us.
Me.
I can’t help but cringe at the thought. How I could fuck this up is beyond me.
I marinate in every bad decision I’ve made thus far, replaying them one after another. I blame myself. I blame Othello. But this is not his fault. It was all on me. I should have just told the truth. Would the outcome be different had I told her sooner?
“Ugh!”
Damn it.
I drop my head in my hands.
In situations like this, I need my best friend. So I FaceTime Lo. She answers, wearing a bathrobe and a silk scarf wrapped around her hair.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, immediately noticing my gloomy expression.
“Don’t hate me.”
