All About You (Love & Hate series #1)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

Present

  I run my fingers over the edges of the letters and take a deep, steady breath. I don't know if I’m ready to go through with this. I should feel relief that I can finally get rid of that secret, but the truth is I’m petrified.

  Oliver might hate me for this. He might not get why it took me over two years to tell him the truth. He’s making plans for Saturday night and our relationship has grown so much. I know he hasn’t stopped loving me because I feel the same way. He’s planning to tell me all this during dinner. The past is behind us and we’re ready to move on.

  I squeeze the letters tightly and shove them into my bag. Oliver should know the truth by Tuesday.

  There is never a right moment to share your worst nightmare with the love of your life, but I can’t keep this away from him any longer. He has truly forgiven now, and after he reads the letters, he should be able to forget about my cruelty.

  The walk to the post office is short, but before I push the letters into the post box, I stand there wondering yet again if I’m ready for what’s next. My mind starts racing, going through a number of different scenarios, but I don’t want to keep doing this to myself. It’s time to finally put that nightmare behind me. It’s time to be happy, so I push the letters through the tiny space. Now there is no turning back.

  I never imagined I would be doing this. After Oliver left Gargle, I could barley function. I felt like my life was over, and although that monster was dead, I didn’t see the point of being alive. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror because every time, I remembered his wild eyes and that stick. It took me over a year to pull myself together, to have the desire to live again.

  When I arrived in Braxton, I thought the past was behind me and I could just move on. It turns out we never know what kind of surprises life can unfold before us. I never expected to see Oliver again, but there he was, waiting for that moment since I turned my back on him.

  When Saturday night rolls in, I feel like I can finally breathe. The heavy secret that has been around me for years is gone. Christian soon won’t matter. Nothing stands between our happiness.

  “So have you decided what you’re going to wear?” asks Dora, leaning on the frame of my door, watching me carefully.

  “My red dress, the one you like,” I reply, finishing my eye shadow. She grins, knowing how special this dinner is for both of us. Jacob is staying in my apartment with Dora so we have Oliver’s room to ourselves. If anyone would have told me a year ago that I would be this excited about sex with Oliver Morgan, I don’t think I’d have believed it.

  “So this is it? The end of the probation period for both of you?”

  “Yeah, next… well, there won’t be many secrets between us,” I say, knowing I have to mention Christian at some point during dinner. Oliver should know I sent him letters.

  “I’m assuming you’re going to tell him about Christian?”

  Dora can read me so well.

  “Yes, I think it’s time. I don’t need to pretend anymore. We’re together and even Christian won’t tear us apart.”

  “It’s nice to see you happy for a change.”

  “Yeah, it’s odd. I’m always the one that keeps encouraging you.”

  Dora laughs and then tells me not to hold anything back and to enjoy the evening. I finish my makeup, put on my dress, and look at myself in the mirror. Tonight it’s all about us, and that comfortable joy settles back in my stomach.

  “You look hot!” announces Dora when I emerge from my room. Oliver is already in the living room. When his eyes rest on my body, I flush. He drinks me in for several more moments and all of a sudden, the desire builds up.

  “Stunning, she looks stunning,” says Oliver after the moment that feels like eternity.

  “Did you make a reservation or are we playing lucky today?”

  He frowns. “Yeah, of course I made a reservation, Indi,” he adds, opening the door for me. I giggle as he sits next to me.

  The restaurant Oliver has chosen is small but set in that quirky, old-school style. Besides, Dora told me earlier that Flamenco was one of the best and most expensive restaurants in Braxton.

  “Table for two, reserved for Morgan,” says Oliver to a very tall blond woman. It’s nearly eight o’clock and this place looks packed, mainly with couples.

  “Of course. Let me show you,” says the waitress.

  Our table is perfect, right by the window. Oliver thought about everything. Once we’re sitting and the waiter takes our drink order, I can finally look at him without any uncertainties.

  “You made an effort, so thank you. I wasn’t expecting this to be so special.” I chuckle. His blue eyes focus on me, and something flickers in them, but before I try to guess what he’s thinking, it’s long gone.

  “I want everything to be perfect this evening,” he says, reaching for my hand.

  “It will be. This is kind of a new beginning for us.” I laugh.

  “You’re right. I never thought it would come to this, especially after the funeral.” He sighs.

  I want to say I thought that too, because he had closed himself down on me and I couldn’t reach him.

  The waiter comes back and I pick my food. Everything looks so expensive, but tonight I’m not worrying, as it’s all too perfect to be true.

  We talk through dinner, enjoying each other’s company. My mind spins out of control when Oliver keeps to his usual topics, like he wants to instantly avoid any awkward moments between us.

  An hour passes and with the second glass of wine, I begin to feel even more relaxed and so happy. Oliver is slightly flushed, but he hardly touched any alcohol. His blue eyes scan the space. The alcohol gives me some encouragement to keep talking.

  “It’s an evening of closure, Oliver, so I guess we can’t avoid talking about the past,” I say, taking a more serious tone.

  Oliver sits up, folding his arms together, like he’s been waiting for this, for me to approach the subject we both wanted to avoid.

  “I wasn’t planning to bring this up. I know you probably couldn’t quite deal with Christian’s death. You felt guilty that we talked about us behind his back,” he states with a slight tension in his voice, studying me carefully.

  My thoughts trail back to that evening, but I dismiss the bad memories. It’s clear that Oliver is trying to explain my behaviour, bring some reasoning to what I put him through.

  “It wasn’t just that,” I tell him, my voice shaking a little. “Do you remember the party, that night when we were both supposed to talk to him?”

  Oliver’s eyes are difficult to read now, dark. He takes a sip of his wine.

  “You don’t even have to ask. I remember everything, although I didn’t make it. After the funeral, I wanted to talk to you, to explain—” He pauses like he’s afraid to say more. We both know I didn’t let him explain back then why he didn’t show up.

  “It’s all right. I get it. I was too caught up with myself, and I shut down.”

  “Yeah, and I kept watching you. I was trying to talk to you, but you kept pushing me away. I kept telling myself I could wait until you came around.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you already forgave me for what I did to you back in high school,” I say with desperation in my voice. “Something happened at that party… I mean, something happened between Christian and me. I didn’t see it coming.”

  His face goes pale, but he doesn’t interrupt. Instead, he encourages me to continue.

  “You will get my letters soon. Then you’ll get it. I don’t want to ruin this evening. You have forgiven me, and that’s the most important, right?”

  Long silence stretches between us and he looks like he wants to ask me about the letters, but he doesn’t.

  “My mother is fond of you. She always has been. She said something that stuck with me,” he says unexpectedly, looking away, but his expression doesn’t change.

  “Let me guess… We look good together?”

  He shakes
his head. “No, she said you and Christian were different, but he was possessive. He didn’t want to let go of you.”

  “What has that to do with us?”

  “Then she said you couldn’t let go of him because of the night at the party, but you slowly are. Now it’s my turn. She said it’s my responsibility to make you happy.”

  I laugh, feeling slightly overwhelmed with the news. The tiny voice in my head tells me I should carry on talking, reveal that Christian never made me happy. It was always Oliver. I have to tell him about the rape and Christian’s abuse. Instead, I say something completely different.

  “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Since the moment I saw you at school with Christian. My love never faded. I hoped that one day you would understand what I did and you would forgive me,” I say, feeling peaceful and lost in those blue eyes. I finally let go of my demons. “I don’t care about what you did when I first came to Braxton. You were angry and I get it. It was the same for me after the funeral.”

  Oliver looks at me. He is hiding his emotions like he used to when I put him through the months of abuse. He leans towards me, his eyes shimmering in the dim light, and takes my palms. The silence stretches between us for a minute, and I wait for him to say he loves me too. There is nothing else that can keep us apart.

  “I love you too,” he says, smiling. Then he grabs his glass of wine and drinks straight through, never cutting eye contact. My heart falters in my chest. “India, oh, India, don’t you think this is a bit absurd?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, laughing.

  “I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but this whole love thing is a bit silly. I don’t actually love you. I invited you here tonight to break up with you.”

  I stare at him blankly and burst out laughing. Oliver likes joking. He can’t possibly believe he can prank me like this.

  “Come on, stop it. I know I deserve it, but—”

  Then something else, or rather someone else, catches my eye. The guy a few tables away from us holds a mobile phone. He looks like he’s taking my picture. I move my eyes to his face and then I recognise him. It’s Oliver’s teammate, the same one he shoved against the wall after our cinema date.

  I turn to look at Oliver, who isn’t smiling anymore, and all of a sudden it hits me. He is perfectly serious. He has been planning this dinner for a long time. I gave him my soul and tonight I was planning to give him my body, and now he just threw my love for him back in my face.

  Oliver’s eyes narrow and I feel someone next to me. It’s that guy, his mate, still holding a mobile phone. He is recording my misery.

  “Smile, you’re on video.”

  I look back at Oliver, who seems to be annoyed and shocked seeing his mate in front of me.

  “Oliver, this is not you. I thought—”

  “What? That I couldn’t get away with this? No, India, it’s not that simple.”

  I stare blankly, feeling like I’m being swept away by the terror of a storm.

  “You couldn’t have thought I could actually go out with you. And I’m going to share another little secret with you. I’ve just won another bet. Getting you to like me again. It worked, didn’t it?”

  I get up and push away the guy with the mobile phone, swallowing back my tears.

  Grief, shock, and terror break over me, and suddenly I think I’m going to faint.

  I don’t care that people stare at me in the restaurant, because at this moment, Oliver is dead to me. Dizziness heats me like warm, sticky air in the summer, and I hurry away and storm out of the restaurant.

  Oliver has just proven to me that he was never planning to forgive me. He was playing with me all this time. I feel like he ripped my heart out of my chest and tossed it across the ground. Then I remember the video.

  His mate was recording our whole conversation. I hurry to a taxi, feeling empty. That hollow feeling stays in my chest; grief slowly consumes me.

  Then I remember Russell’s words: “You will thank me for this one day.”

  God, did he know all this time what Oliver was doing? Maybe he only suspected it. What about Dora and Jacob?

  Then another wall hits me.

  “The letters,” I whisper to myself. Oliver will get my letters.

  I jump into the taxi and tell the driver to just drive. I can’t hold my tears any longer. He broke me, leading me to believe our love was real.

  No one could be that cruel, but now he showed me that he never got over the pain and humiliation I caused.

  As I stare out the window, the pain doesn’t go away. It increases with every heartbeat, with every breath I take.

  I expect this video to be online soon. Then people will share it, and I probably can never show my face in Braxton again.

  I should have never listened to my instincts. I remember his words now. I was in control once, but now he got the payback.

  Now I understand that my past and Oliver are over. My secret doesn’t matter anymore because Oliver destroyed our love. We had that one chance, but he ruined it.

  I’m on my own. My heart doesn’t belong to me, and it’s time to bury Oliver away because I never, ever want to look at him again.

  “All about me” (Love & Hate series #2) is now available

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  Other books by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  Beautiful Pain (Contemporary romance)

  When the Clock Strikes (Paranormal Personnel Saga #0.5)

  £6.19 per Witching hour (Paranormal Personnel Saga #1)

  Past the Witching hour (Paranormal Personnel Saga #2)

  Half Past the Witching Hour (Paranormal Personnel Saga #3)

  Quarter to the Witching Hour (Paranormal Personnel Saga #4)

  The Whispers of the Sprite (The Whispers Series #1) (Currently free)

  The Dark Night Whispers (The Whispers Series #2)

  Her Secret Whispers (The Whispers Series #3)

  My Last Whispers (The Whispers Series #4)

  The Whispers Series, book 1,2,3

  All about you ( Love & Hate Series #1)

  All about me (Love & Hate Series #2)

  Illicit Canvas