The Lies We Tell

by Butler, Brittany

  Tabatha is singing along to music in the car, but I somehow manage to drown the sound out. This is bittersweet. Emotionally, I am over everything, even him. Mentally, I will never be the same. Although I want him to be fulfilled and happy, I can’t help but wonder who was she and are they living a happily ever after right now?

  A small side of me hopes that they are. I don’t want our story to have been in vain. The car slows and Tabatha squeals, bringing me out of my thoughts.

  “You can let us out here,” Tabatha tells the driver.

  Her face is lit with a smile. Surprisingly, she came to terms with Collin and me ending. She was our biggest cheerleader, determined that we could make it work. But eventually, she came to her senses.

  “Are divorce parties a thing? I feel like that’s something we shouldn’t celebrate,” I say as Tabatha slips her coat on when we got out of the Uber.

  “We should celebrate everything, Natalie,” she assures me. That’s one odd thing she shares with Collin. They want to celebrate everything.

  I shrug my shoulders, knowing it was fine. He would never know. My celebration wouldn’t hurt him. It was time to set aside my constant worrying for him. My divorce was final this week, and we were both relieved. I had heard through gossip that Collin had attended classes for his drinking and was seeing a counselor. He was also seeing a girl. As pathetic as that made me look, I am happy for him. He deserves all the good things.

  Fortunately for me, Tabatha had moved back, and we lived in the same building. Unfortunately for me, this meant that I had picked up all of her bad habits. While I’ve gotten better at blocking out the noise from the book world, I haven’t gotten better at acting my age. Tabatha assured me that this is just a phase. While she dragged me out every night, she just wanted to dance. Apparently, she had sworn off alcohol and men. I picked up her slack.

  The bouncer let us in. “I am going to the restroom,” Tab shouted over the music. I nodded and searched the dark area for tables.

  With every step I took, my heels slapped into the marble, matching the beat, as I made my way to an open table. The melody pounded through my veins, heightening my intoxication. This was what I lived for now. I’ve turned into Tabatha’s clone.

  I leaned against the cold wall, propping my right stiletto behind me. The slit in my dress spread, revealing even more of my tanned, tone leg. I didn't spend long hours in a gym for the last few months not to be noticed. Guys noticed, and right now, that’s what I needed. A random guy walked up to me, handing me a drink. I took it, waved politely, and acted like I couldn’t hear him as I walked off.

  Don't get me wrong, I haven’t turned into basic, self- centered, bitch. I still write books, and I am still sensitive. I hit delete on all of my social media pages, and my focus is on the site in front of me. The life of fun people who celebrate every night like it is their last night to be alive. Nobody cares who I am or what I’ve done in here. They just want to have fun, and that’s what I need.

  I picked out a guy I decided was gorgeous from behind and watched him. I did this a lot. I watched how they handled the attention. I grew satisfied if my predictions came right.

  My guy for the night searched the crowd, only stopping when he found me. With a sly grin, he raised his strong, calloused hand, motioning me to come over. My heart stopped.

  Seeing him was always like the first time. His hair was combed to the side tonight. He'd let his beard grow out a little; it was darker and scruffy, lining his square jaw. His eyes were lined by long lashes and sat below thick eyebrows. He was a sight to see.

  Pretending like I was unbothered, I held my clutch to my side and walked to his table.

  "See something you like?" He’s never bothered with small talk, which is something I've grown to care for. Every other guy I’ve talked to since the split wants to get to know me, but he already knows. I am an open book to him.

  "I do. And I see many, many others that like it as well,” I say, sitting beside him. I am enjoying the game he’s playing. No matter how caught off guard I am, I don’t let him know.

  "I don't care about them,” he says.

  "When I am in the same room? How convenient," I say, smirking. I craved the words he said to make me feel as if I were the only one in the room. Other girls came up to him, but he was waiting for me.

  "I was just sittin' here thinking about you," he says, leaning in. “I was wondering when I might run into you.”

  "Is that so?" I ask with a laugh.

  "I couldn't find a reason why we shouldn't get back together. I came here to ask you out," he says. His eyes are watching me intently.

  "We're having this discussion in a club? I can't think of anything more romantic," I say, trying to keep my composure.

  I grabbed a pack of cigarettes, packing them. I pulled one out, slipped it between my lips and lit it. I wasn't a smoker. I only smoked when I drank, which unfortunately for my liver and lungs, was starting to turn into every day. His nose scrunched up when I lit it up, but he didn’t question my new vice.

  “You know you never liked romance," he says, teasing me.

  “I am the maker of all things romance,” I say, looking around the club. I took a hit of the filthy stick, trying to play it cool with him.

  “Would you prefer me to take you out for a nice dinner? Write a sweet letter? You tell me,” he said, grinning. He knew I didn’t need that kind of thing anymore. He was just taunting me.

  "You're serious?" I asked, and he nodded. "Fuck it."

  He is persuasive as he is charming. I throw my half-smoked cigarette in the tray and walk toward the exit. I sent Tab a quick text, explaining that I was leaving early. She would understand; I am confident she orchestrated this setup.

  “Where are you running off to now?” He asked, catching up to me.

  “Back to my place. Are you coming, or not?”

  He threw a wicked grin my way, and I knew he was hooked. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew I was, too.

  I want to start out with typical, "this isn’t you, it's me" statement because it is true. You’re amazing; you’re everything a girl needs, and one day, you will find that girl. But that day isn’t today. You’re smart, serious, sensible, and you don’t deserve someone who is throwing away her education to write books and live whatever way she chooses to live.

  You will find a girl, but she isn’t me. You may think I am selfish; you probably hate me, and that’s probably for the best. I want you to move on and be fulfilled. Nobody knows where I am or how to reach me. Please don’t bother my friends and family.

  Natalie

  I could recite the note out loud a thousand times. I can’t stop reading it. As nice as she sounds, I know her reasons are more in-depth than this. We fight too much, I remind her of her dad, and we are only twenty- two.

  My friends were right. We were too young to get married, and now I’ve scared her off. I fold the note back into the perfect square I found it in. I feel the ring in my pocket, holding on to it. She will be back.

  “What do you want to do about the reservations?” Ashlynn asks me, looking around the venue.

  “Leave it. Just in case.”

  “Are you sure? I am really not trying to be rude, but you guys could get a partial refund if we canceled it tonight…’ I look up at Ashlynn. Her red hair is piled on top off her head, and her stress is taking a toll on her appearance today. She nervously bites her thumbnail, waiting for my response.

  “I don’t care about the money. She will be back,” I say. She nods and leaves me to be alone. Everyone is going out by now. I sit, staring at the decorations that the coordinator arranged this morning. If Natalie comes back, we will just pretend this didn’t happen and go along with it. Everyone gets cold feet before their wedding. It is normal.

  I walk to my truck quietly, blocking out everything in my head. If she doesn’t show up tomorrow, I’ll deal with it then. She still has twenty hours to show up.

  When I get back to the apartment, I know that sh
e hasn’t been here. I put a piece of paper under the door, knowing she would have picked it up if she came back. She hates things on the floor.

  I check my phone, finding nothing. When I first read the note, I went to Ashlynn and her mom, but nobody knows where she is. Or no one will tell me. I drove all over town frantically searching.

  Ashlynn forced me to drink wine at what would have been the rehearsal. That’s the only reason I am so calm. I look at my watch; Seventeen hours. I close my eyes and hope sleep finds me.

  When I peel my eyes open, I am still in my recliner. Marcus is on my couch. He hands me a drink, and I already know what this means.

  “I didn’t want to wake you unless she came back,” he said.

  I take a sip. The whiskey hits me like a ton of bricks. It is not something I am used to drinking when I first wake up.

  “What time is it?”

  “Five- thirty,” he says uncomfortably.

  She really didn’t show. I chug the drink, slamming it down on the table beside me. I rub my hand down my face, frustrated. Marcus clears his throat, and I pull myself together.

  We shouldn’t have fought. She left right after we got into over something so stupid. I wanted her to find a job that would benefit her in the long run, she wanted to write. I should’ve let her follow her dream.

  She’s following her fucking dream now.

  I can’t shake the feeling that she will be back. This isn’t a permanent thing. She just needs to prove herself.

  I regret saying anything. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have told her what she should do. She would never do that to me. When we’re alone, we’re fine, and then we get around all of our dumb- ass friends and family that ask questions and tell us what we need to do. I should’ve taken up for her. Instead, I was just as bad as them. In the end, I was the one to fuck it up.

  I need a timeline for this. I need to know when she will be back. It’ll take everything I have to stay away from her mom’s house and not hassle everyone to tell me where she is. I can apologize to her. I’ll let her know I support her no matter what. She will forgive me. She has to.

  “Everything is taken care of?” I ask, trying to ignore the panic running through my body.

  “Yeah the coordinator told the guest it was postponed, and Ashlynn got you guys a half refund, so that’s awesome.”

  “Yeah, that’s good,” I say, distantly.

  “You can get the hell out of here for a while,” he says.

  “I’ll do that,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “If Ashlynn or anyone hears from her, let me know.”

  Sighing, he stands. “Will do…You know I love Natalie but forget her. She doesn’t care if she left you like this, man.”

  “She had her reasons,” I say through gritted teeth. I don’t need anyone telling me anything about her. The first person that bad mouths her to me are getting their ass kicked.

  “Come on, let's grab a bite to eat,” he says, ignoring my attempt to defend Natalie.

  “I am not hungry. Call if you hear anything,” I say, staring at the wall in front of me. Our smiling faces are mocking me. Did she know she was going to leave in that picture? I contain my anger until Marcus leaves.

  “You sure you don’t need anything?”

  “I need to be alone,” I say.

  “Later,” he says, patting me on the shoulder as he passes. “Call someone if you need us.”

  I count his steps until he opens the door and closes it, leaving me alone. 15 steps; 10 full seconds wasted of a meltdown. Something about seeing her picture on every wall and table pushes me over the edge.

  I get up when I know Marcus is out of hearing range. I pull every fucking picture of her off the wall and take them off the table. Looking around, I see she’s in more than just pictures. She’s in decorations, the fucking couch, she is in everything.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I throw a picture across the room, it shatters when it hits the wall. My neighbor bangs on the wall, and it snaps me out of my anger.

  I can’t be here anymore.

  Frantically, I grab all the decorations, pillows, and anything I see that reminds me of her and put it by the door. I grab my phone and call Ashlynn.

  “Hello?” She answers on the first ring. Ashlynn. Natalie’s best friend. She has to know where she is. I almost lose it.

  “I can’t be here anymore…find me a place.” She’s the only one I can call for help. Everyone else will pity me or be weird about it. Ashlynn will arrange anything, no questions asked.

  “Not a problem. Natalie said she wants all of the money to go toward you. You could actually use it for a down payment.”

  “You talked to her?”

  “She didn’t tell me where she is, Jack.”

  “Is she okay?” I ask, frantically. I want to jump in my truck and drive until I find her.

  “She is…she’s just confused. Forget about her for now. Let’s focus on you,” she says. She knows something. She at least knows how to contact her.

  “I need something now…”

  “Marcus and I will get you a hotel set up…there’s a house I want you to look at though,” she says, trying to sell me on the idea of buying. She’s going to make one hell of a salesman.

  “Fine. Whatever will get me the hell out of here,” I say.

  “I’ll be there in twenty. I’ll handle it,” she says before hanging up.

  I put everything in a pile, excluding the big furniture. It is all I am taking with me. I’ll tell Ashlynn to take the rest. I set on the recliner, staring at the blank screen, waiting for anyone to show up; especially Natalie.

  One week later, I am signing documents for my new home. It doesn’t feel right doing this alone, but as far as anyone else knows, I am thrilled. Natalie’s mom texts me as I am leaving the office.

  Natalie bought a condo in Dallas.

  Me: Does she want me to know?

  She didn’t tell me not to tell you. But Jack, Dallas is a big city. You’ll never find her. She will be back eventually, but you shouldn’t put your life on hold.

  Me: Thank you.

  I feel like I am back at square one. I have to erase her from my life, so I can get over her and move on.

  One year later, I found out her book was optioned by a major movie production company. Two years later, it was made into a movie. I read all her books and watched the movie. I always wondered if she thought about me when she wrote.

  The next year, I found out she was getting married. My Natalie infatuation died after that. She wasn’t mine to look after anymore. She was just the one that got away.

  “What part of list my house don’t you understand, Ash?”

  She rubbed her temples frustrated with me. Her red hair fell beyond her should, bouncing each time she moved. She was a good agent, but not when she was your friend who thought you were making the wrong choice.

  “Jack,” she says, her voice is dripping with sarcasm. “She left you at the altar, and she’s recently divorced…given her track record, do you think you should drop your life to run after her? Do you think that’s a good idea, really?”

  “She was your best friend. Don’t give me that shit.”

  “Was, Jack. She doesn’t even talk to us anymore…she just happened to run into you. I just don’t think this is a good idea. I don’t want to see you like that again,” she says. She looks past me like she’s watching something. She shivers and returns her sight to me.

  “This isn’t about Natalie. I just want to get the hell out of here. Dallas is a big town,” I say. I watch her face go from angry to indifferent in a split second.

  “Fine,” she says, throwing her hands up. “If I don’t do it, someone else will, right?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Precisely.”

  “You know who to call if she fucks you up again.”

  I wince, not believing she would say that. She’s not the type of person to cuss or get mad at anyone, but she never forgave Natalie completely for what she did
to all of us.

  I know Natalie better than all of them. I know not to take her personally. I love her, but I know I have to leave her wild. You can’t expect to change someone when you fall in love; you don’t fall in love with who you want them to be after all.

  “Do you need me to line anything up in Dallas for you?” She asks, trying to calm herself down.

  “Nope. I’ve taken care of everything. I have a job lined up and found an apartment nearby.”

  “What do you want me to tell Marcus?”

  “I’ll be back to visit, Ash.”

  That seems to satisfy her. She rises from her desk and gives me a hug. I know this isn’t easy for her to watch me do this, but she knows I have to for myself.

  After leaving her office, I start my truck, looking around at the suitcase full of clothes and the few belongings I am bringing with me. I am leaving everything behind and starting over in a new city. There’s no room for my past in my future. Well, aside from one thing, but she’s my past, future, and present combined.

  I am finally going after her. It took years, but I am holding onto my word. When she left me, I always thought I would go after her. I wanted to, but I gave her a chance she deserved. It wasn’t by chance that I ran into her and we were drawn to each other again after all of these years.

  The drive is short, and it doesn’t take long to find my apartment. I toss my suitcase down on the floor when I walk inside. It is small and furnished. I couldn’t ask for more. I pull out my phone looking for her number.

  Me: I am here

  Her divorce is final next week. I’ll text you when I know she will be ready to see you.

  To kill time, I pull out her newest book and begin reading. This is the only way I can find out how she really feels. “From A Distance” by Natalie Conner; I flip to the back of the book, curious.

  Ophelia Hayes’s life is defined by her past.

  The mistakes, memories, and lies that have haunted her mind are catching up to her.

  With divorce on the horizon,

  Ophelia must decide if haunting past is worth a second chance.