All the Lies

by Charlotte Byrd

  “Nothing,” she says quickly.

  “No, really. Is this your way of advising me to stay with Alex?”

  “What you do with Alex is up to you,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Yes, I know that. Thank you but I don't need your permission to break up with or marry anyone,” I say sarcastically.

  Despite all of my admiration for her confidence and all of her bravery, it dawns on me that she's just a child. She has never had a serious relationship and she has no idea what it's like to be in one. Maybe that's why it’s so much easier for her to forgive Dad. Maybe that's why it's so much easier for her to think about forgiving Alex.

  After all of this the last thing that I want to do is go back to the party. I spent most of the evening pretending that I'm still getting married and I have no intentions of continuing this farce.

  Instead, I ask her if she wants something real to eat.

  She laughs and we head to the kitchen.

  The caterers and the chef are still there, cleaning up. There’s a large four tier cake sitting in the middle of the marble kitchen island. It makes me nauseous to even look at it, even though I know that it will be delicious.

  I open the refrigerator and grab the first thing I see: a bag of fresh red cherries. Large and plump, they sparkle under the beautiful kitchen chandelier that my mom installed ahead of the party.

  Brooke pulls out a can of whipped cream, but after checking the ingredients, she puts it back and grabs the vegan kind.

  We use the back staircase to head to Brooke’s old room. It looks exactly like it did when she was in high school. There are posters draped in twinkle lights all over the walls.

  There's a large stand-up mirror right across from her bed. It's hard to believe that a girl as young as ten had been sleeping in a king-size bed all of her life when most kids are happy with just a twin.

  I pop a cherry into my mouth. I bite into it carefully to avoid the pit and then savor the explosion of sweetness that colonizes my mouth.

  “These are probably some of the best cherries I've ever had,” Brooke announces.

  I laugh because she says that often. Cherries are her favorite and that's why Mom always keeps them stocked in the fridge, paying more than eight dollars a bag at Whole Foods without even blinking an eye.

  “Did I tell you about my new assignment at work?” I ask.

  14

  Emma

  “I’m going to have to write a story on D. B. Carter,” I say and wait for her reaction.

  It was actually she who first brought it up and suggested that I investigate him. She likes to read a lot of urban fantasy and fantasy romances and D. B. Carter is one of the biggest names out there among the indie authors.

  “You did not!” Brooke squeals. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. I pitched it when I had no other ideas and Corrin thought it was a great one and, of course, took it on. This is all your fault!”

  “No, no, no. This is going to be so fun.” She laughs. “You know that you're going to solve one of the biggest literary mysteries out there.”

  “Are there a lot of literary mysteries?” I ask, tilting my head. “I mean, come on.”

  “Okay, maybe not, but don’t be so negative.”

  “How could I not be? I have to do all of this research on a person who does not want to be found and I have to turn it in by Monday. What do I even do if I find out who he is? It's not like he's going to let me interview him.”

  “Okay, it's probably not a he so you have to stop saying that,” she says, emphasizing the word he dramatically.

  I shrug.

  “Come on,” Brooke says. “I'm serious. Most people who write in that genre are women so there's a strong probability that this writer is a woman.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “She may be more open to talking to you after you find her.”

  “I kinda doubt that.” I let out a deep sigh and roll my eyes. “Most indie authors promote themselves online and on social media. Why not? They want to sell their books. So, if I thought this person is obfuscating and hiding their identity on purpose, that means something. That means even if I go through all the trouble of finding out the truth, then it's all going to be for nothing. They're not going to give me an interview. They won’t want to talk to me.”

  I’m exhausted and spent. The more I think about this, the less certain I am that I’m going to write this story at all.

  “Okay,” Brooke says, sitting on her bed and leaning toward me. “I'm going to help you.”

  “How?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

  “I’ll help you with everything, whatever you need. I’ll help you do research. Besides, it's not like you're going to Laguna Beach to celebrate your engagement. You have three solid days to find something and I'm sure that's more than enough. You should come over and we can work on it together.”

  * * *

  A light knock on the door startles me at first, but it's just Lindsey.

  “Mom said to find you because they're going to be cutting the cake,” Lindsey says.

  I shake my head. I thought that this horrible night would be over but I had completely forgotten about the cake.

  “Listen, it's not going to be a big deal. You just stand there with Alex. He can say a few words and then you cut the cake. That's it.”

  She’s saying this to be nice, but in reality, we both know there's a lot more to this.

  On my way downstairs, Brooke squeezes my hand in solidarity. I glance over at Lindsey who gives me a sympathetic shrug.

  Everyone feels bad for me but everyone also understands why I have to go through with this.

  Everyone except for me.

  Why am I going through with this?

  When we get to the kitchen, I see Alex standing right next to the cake waiting for me like a real groom.

  He walks over and gives me a small hug. Somehow, it’s almost as if nothing that happened today has registered with him at all. As long as we're going through the motions of the engagement party, he seems to think that we are still engaged.

  He takes my hand and walks me through the double doors into the living room where everyone is waiting. We approach the DJ who has just introduced us as the future Mr. and Mrs. Wetterling and Alex confidently takes the mic.

  This is the part that I hate; speeches.

  I hate giving speeches and I equally hate receiving them. I don't like when people say nice things in my honor. I've always felt like that ever since I was a little kid. It's hard to explain exactly what makes this practice so terrible except that there seems to be some sort of inauthenticity to it.

  I mean, why make speeches about people when you both already know each other and everything about each other?

  When my dad takes the microphone, he starts to tell the crowd all about the kind of girl that I used to be when I was little. He tells about how proud he is of me, but throughout this whole presentation, I feel like it’s a lie.

  If these people really knew me, then there would be no reason for the speech. Since they don't, then what's the point? My dad has always been good at speeches. He's not so good with the one-on-one, but he knows how to woo a crowd and how to make people laugh.

  It's a skill that I lack, but luckily the fact that I'm a woman lets me off the hook for the most part.

  My dad’s speech is followed by Alex's dad’s speech, which is similarly distant yet fun and inviting. His dad has years of experience buttering up investors and proves to be almost as charming as mine.

  The words that our fathers say are powerful and kind and yet they make me feel like such a fraud. I know that they probably don't mean the things that they say, but I believe them anyway and it makes me feel like I'm the one who is lying to all of our guests.

  When Alex's dad stops talking and hangs up the mic, I finally let out a sigh of relief. I take a sip of champagne and raise it a bit higher as a final acknowledgement of this engagement. I’ve had enough and I can’t wait to go home
in my own car.

  But Alex stops me. He clears his throat, raises his glass, and asks for a few minutes of everyone's time.

  “I just want everyone here to know,” he begins, “that I don't deserve this woman who is standing by my side. I never did and I hope that I can go through my life making choices that will finally lead me to her.

  “I have made a lot of mistakes, most of which I will hopefully take to the grave, but she is well aware of them and she has found it in her soul to forgive me. I never expected that and she deserves a lot better than me, but I appreciate it.

  “I just want to tell you in front of all of these people that I love you more than you will ever know. Thank you so much for giving me a second chance, and then a third chance and then a fourth chance.

  “Mainly, I just want to say thank you for forgiving my flaws and my mistakes. Thank you for sticking by me no matter what. I will spend the rest of my days trying to be the husband that you deserve.”

  The room explodes in applause and I freeze unable to move. I don't know what to say or do.

  I just glare at Alex and hate him with all of my might.

  How dare he say this to me?

  How dare he dance around something that is so personal and intimate?

  How dare he tell all these people half a truth and then leave me hanging to answer for the rest?

  I swallow hard and the crowd cheers louder and louder. Then suddenly, they calm down and expect me to say something in return.

  This is my chance.

  This is my opportunity to tell everyone that the wedding is off because my fiancé has cheated on me with his boss.

  I take the microphone and clear my throat. I can count the number of speeches that I have made on one hand and most of those were work requirements and debate class.

  My whole body starts to shake.

  My mouth runs dry.

  I take another sip of my champagne, but the tanginess makes my taste buds dry up.

  “The ball is in your court,” Alex whispers under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

  I look out into the audience.

  My eyes scan over my mom, my dad, Lindsey, and Brooke. My aunts and uncles are here and then somewhere in the middle of the group, I see him.

  It's Liam. He's standing there and there is space all around him. Suddenly everyone else in the room disappears and it’s just him and me.

  He's one of the few people here who know the truth.

  I look at him for guidance, pleading with my eyes.

  What should I do?

  What should I say?

  He gives me a slight nod. It's followed by a smile. Suddenly, my chest tightens as I open my mouth.

  “Thank you all for being here,” I say and the microphone makes a grotesque sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Thank you all for traveling such great distances and taking time out of your day and out of your life to celebrate us.”

  I keep my voice low and the mic a little too far. When I bring it a little bit closer, it echoes again, overwhelming me. “I really appreciate seeing you all and the effort that you put into coming here to celebrate us.”

  I realize that I'm repeating myself, but I need to gather the strength. My eyes focus on Liam again and suddenly I start to feel better.

  He gives me a nod of support and I let out a sigh of relief. It washes over me like a wave, wrapping me in a cocoon of comfort.

  “The thing is that despite how much I wish I could be a part of your family and that we could join our families together, I can’t do that at this point. Alex did something terrible. I just found out earlier today and the wedding is off. We're not engaged and we are not getting married. Please enjoy the party and the cake. My mom and sister have worked really hard to organize everything.”

  15

  Liam

  I watch her walk over to the mic with Alex holding her hand, waiting to see what’s going to happen. The girl that I met out back was broken and disappointed.

  That’s exactly the woman who I see before me in the front of the room. You don't have to be a psychologist to figure out that she's not very comfortable with getting praise or having nice things said about her.

  She stands with her shoulders slumped down cowering behind the man who I'd heard hurt her to her very core.

  After Alex’s father speaks, telling stories about a child who doesn’t seem at all like the kid that I remember, Alex takes the mic. I expect him to say something as flat and insincere as his father, but he doesn't. He uses the time to give her a failed apology.

  Perhaps she had made it clear to him that they will not be getting married and he's just trying to do one last thing to convince her to stay.

  I wonder if it will work.

  Suddenly, the mousy, timid woman who was standing next to her fiancé comes alive. She takes the microphone, clears her throat into it, and tells him to fuck himself.

  Everyone else in the room is shocked, but I tilt my head back and laugh with my whole body.

  Then I clap.

  Finally, Emma has done what is right by her.

  Alex is an asshole. We all know that. The only way he and men like him will start acting the right way is if the women in their lives demand it.

  Instead of covering up for him and being embarrassed over her supposed humiliation, Emma takes the microphone and tells everyone in the room that the wedding is off.

  A few minutes later, I find her at the bar.

  Everyone else is avoiding her, trying to pretend that she’s invisible. The couple next to Emma even have their backs turned, probably hoping that she doesn’t talk to them. It’s not like they’re not curious. But they’d rather just gossip among themselves.

  I don’t have the same problem.

  “To think,” I say, walking up to Emma. “To think that I was going to miss this engagement party. I would have never forgiven myself.”

  I extend my hand and she shakes it, looking at the bottom of her cocktail.

  “You were… Marvelous.” I look down and realize that we are still shaking hands. She pulls hers away and laughs uncomfortably.

  “Listen, I know that was hard but that was the right thing to do.”

  “Yeah,” Emma says, looking around the room. “It certainly doesn’t feel like it. You're the only one here congratulating me.”

  “Doesn't matter,” I say, shaking my head. “They can all go fuck themselves.”

  An older woman standing next to me glares at us and I shrug my shoulders, refusing to apologize.

  “What Alex did was terrible and he deserved to be called out,” I say. “They forced you to have this engagement party.”

  I glance over at her and see her staring at her sisters and her mom near the kitchen.

  “Yeah, it was the right thing to do, but then why do I feel like such an asshole?”

  “Maybe that's how you know it's the right thing to do,” I say.

  We stand here for a few moments and when I get up to walk away, she stops me.

  “Don't leave,” Emma whispers. “I have a feeling that no one's going to talk to me if you do.”

  “Do you want them to?” I ask.

  “No, I don't, but the fact that they don't want to makes it that much more awkward.”

  I give her nod a and stand by her side for a few moments.

  “Hey, smooth move.” A woman who looks a lot like Emma walks up to us. Emma introduces her as her younger sister Brooke and she gives me a cute smile.

  “Want me to simply say that? I thought you were just going to play along.”

  “I get tired of playing along. I didn't want to be like Mom. I don’t want to be covering for my husband in front of my grown children years from now. To not do that, I figured I might as well come out here and tell everyone the whole ugly truth.”

  “Well, I'm really proud of how brave you are,” Brooke says after a pause. “Wasn't she brave?”

  “I've never seen anyone be braver,” I agree.

  Bro
oke and I exchange looks and then look back at Emma who suddenly seems as lost as ever.

  In movies, the camera never follows you to what happens after the main character makes a big speech on stage. There are all these moments of levity and exhilaration, but right after that they are quickly followed by deep valleys of despair.

  That’s exactly what Emma is going through now. I wish I knew her better to put my arm around her and for it to not be weird.

  I'm glad that Brooke does it for me.

  We stand together for a few minutes until Emma sees her dad who waves her over. She glances over at Brooke and begs her to come, but Brooke just shrugs her shoulders and tells her to go talk to him.

  “What do you think your dad is going to say?” I ask.

  “I have no idea. Probably nothing good,” Brooke responds.

  “He would want her to marry him anyway?”

  “No. I meant he won’t say anything good about Alex. I don't think he really wanted her to marry Alex in the first place. Alex has a certain reputation, in case you didn’t know.”

  “I’ve heard a thing or two. I thought that he got over it and maybe found the one who would keep him from straying, but I guess not.”

  “I don't think there is one,” Brooke says, shaking her head. “I think that certain people either cheat or they don't cheat. It has nothing to do with the person they’re with. If Alex were someone with integrity, then he wouldn’t cheat on anyone, regardless of what he thought about her. He would break up with her first if he were interested in someone else.”

  I look at her and her words take me back a little bit. She looks young, a little bit younger than Emma, but she is clearly wise beyond her years.

  Brooke’s also beautiful. Some guys would probably not be able to look past her weight, but it looks to me like it's nothing but an asset to her.

  Brooke carries it well. Standing next to me, her shoulders are spread wide and her bosom is elevated. There's a confidence to her that's quite disarming and attractive.

  I can't help but wonder what she's like on a date.