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Standing in the doorway, swaying ever so slightly in a floral purple dress and smelling like raspberry, is Cleo.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lucas
Age 19
I’m an asshole, but at least I have self-awareness. I know I was terrible in high school. At one point, I thought that even if I stopped, there was no point, because I’d already been cruel to him for years and there was no way he’d ever forgive me.
It’s always easier to lean into what people think of you. Even now. He detests me, so I’ll be detestable. Except this time, I actually think I have a good reason.
Yes, I lied. But I did it for him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Now
It’s the first time I’ve seen her in a month, but she looks the same as the last time I saw her on the night of our anniversary: pretty, stylish, tipsy.
Her eyes, shimmering with eyeshadow, widen and her jaw drops open. “Charlie,” she says after a moment.
“Cleo,” I manage. The bathroom sink tap is still flowing, drowning my hand in water, and I turn it off.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Gilly invited me,” I say.
Something flashes across her face, and I narrow my eyes. “Why, did he invite you too?”
“No,” she says. “I didn’t even realise he was here.”
“Hugo too. And Lucas.”
If she has a reaction to Lucas’s name, she hides it well.
The seconds stretch into eternity as we stand there, locked in a gaze, and I want to shout at her, demand why she cheated on me and cut me out of her life without a word. But at the same time, I want to run before she can say anything, because I’m terrified of her answer if I ask her why.
Eventually, she closes the bathroom door behind her and sits down on the closed toilet seat. “I suppose we should talk about —”
“The fact you ghosted me without an explanation?” I interrupt, voice hard. It seems my anger overpowers my fear, at least for now. “Yeah, maybe we should.”
“Listen, Charlie, I didn’t mean to.”
I scoff at that. “You didn’t mean to?”
“No, I…I just mean that…” Her eyes flicker away, the first sign of guilt, and that satisfies me in a sick way.
“What?” I ask.
“It was easier.” Her voice wavers, and she takes a moment to steady herself. “I know I fucked up, and I didn’t know how to face you. I didn’t want you to look at me like you’re looking at me now.”
“How am I looking at you?” I ask.
“Like you’re judging me.”
“Of course, I’m judging you!” I burst out. Anger crackles through my body, and it’s like everything I did to forget about Cleo has gone to waste. I didn’t think I’d be this upset, but looking at her dredges everything back to the surface. “You cheated on me, and you didn’t even have the guts to tell me yourself.”
“Come on, Charlie,” she says. “It would have hardly made things easier on you if I talked to you face to face and said, oh yeah, by the way, I fucked someone else.”
