by Lily Zante
Chapter 33
He knew she’d been lying the first time. It had started off as a feeling that something was wrong. But his fears had only been confirmed when he’d gone to the toilet and his nostrils smarted at the subtly disguised stench of vomit. Yet she’d walked out and made a joke about something, as though there wasn’t anything wrong at all.
And then he remembered, it wasn’t the first time he’d smelled that stench.
Once for their anniversary, he’d surprised her with a stay at a hotel complete with dinner. But he remembered now how she’d picked at her food. She was never a great eater, so it hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary then—only now, with the passing of time and the analysis of things that it brought, was he able to piece it all together and see what he’d been so blind to before. After the meal they’d gone back to the room and messed around and watched a film on TV. But he’d woken up to hear her vomiting in the bathroom. She told him after that she thought she’d eaten something that didn’t agree with her.
It wasn’t until much later that he understood what she did. She consumed food and then threw it up…the feeling of food in her stomach created an ongoing battle with her mind.
It was only now, knowing what he knew about her, about the illness, that he finally understood how much of a torture that gift of a weekend away must have been for her.
For Bree a romantic meal and a weekend away with him was the worst possible present he could have given her. She’d had nowhere to hide.
The more closely he observed her, the more he realized there was a pattern. A couple of times he’d called her out on it. They would arrange to meet, he’d call to remind her and she’d cancel. She’d make any excuse: that she was busy going to the gym, or a friend needed her urgently, or her mother was unwell, or she had a headache and he wouldn’t see her until a couple of days later. Then she’d be fine again. Sometimes she looked a little tired, but there was nothing overly suspicious for him to get worried about. Or think twice about.
Looking back on it all now, he hated himself for not seeing something that stared him right in the face. He hadn’t been the only one to be duped so easily. Her parents had been as well.
But sometimes he thought he saw a hint of accusation in their eyes. Or maybe he imagined it?
How could you have a relationship and not know?
Towards the end, things had cooled down between them. She’d started not getting completely undressed when they’d have sex. She was beautiful, but she’d always hated the way she looked. Worried her thighs were too chubby, her calves not svelte enough, her arms puffy. The way girls did. She was skinny, too thin, he often thought, with a tall and gangly model build. She’d hidden it so well. Until towards the end.
Now Melissa was doing the same but in a different way. Lying to him, hiding things from him. Trying to make him think that things were not as they seemed. Hoping he wouldn’t find out.
She’d been so different the other night when they’d kissed for hours. He’d come home with the idea that things were moving forward, all ready to make plans for the next time he saw her. They hadn’t talked about plans that night. Contentment had come from losing himself in her, in having her lips on his, her arms around his neck, her eyes so close to his that he could see his reflection in them. The closeness he had only dreamed of had become a glorious, redemptive reality.
Having previously abandoned the idea of finding someone, he had once more started to believe he could reclaim love once more. But now, he realized, he was in a crock so full of shit and lies, it had served only to put him back even more.
He was going to lay low as far as finding love went.
Moving into the apartment had been a double blessing. If he hadn’t moved in, he would never have known. He’d have been duped into thinking he’d found the right girl for him.
How long would she have strung him along?
This morning he’d walked straight past the coffee shop, not even stopping to peer inside to see if she was there. He couldn’t deal with seeing her again. He didn’t want to see her. If there was one thing he was thankful for, it was that they hadn’t swapped numbers. At least he’d been spared the humiliation of being lied to.
Where he would have a problem would be the next time she visited Matt. Noah didn’t want to be around to see that.
Chapter 34
Melissa walked in from the cold, clutching another cup of coffee in her hands. She’d been visiting the coffee shop each day since last week with no sign of Noah at all. It was clear to her that he was avoiding her.
He wasn’t even giving her the chance to explain.
Anxiety mauled her, and the only comfort she had was the warmth of the coffee she held in her hands. She put down her cup and turned around, slowly unbuttoning her coat.
She felt strange being at work before Nadine. Ever since Mr. Zimmerman had announced plans for Nadine to relocate to Europe, she’d been arriving at work well after nine o’clock, it was so uncharacteristically unlike her boss.
Unraveling the scarf from around her neck, Melissa’s thoughts were preoccupied with Noah. She needed to contact him again. It was easier to count the moments she didn’t think of him, for they hardly existed. Focusing on the bad stuff that had happened between the two of them helped her to forget the episode between her and Matt. Sometimes, unexpectedly, an image of her on Matt’s bed would flash into her head and she’d feel as though she was there again, powerless, frozen and weak. She’d shiver, and shake, and hate herself for what she’d let him do to her.
And when she wanted to punish herself more, she’d think back to New Year’s Eve and the party and the room in which she and Noah had spent those wonderful few hours—when she’d felt safe and as if she belonged.
It killed her to know she might not get that ever again. That he would probably move on and find that same bliss with someone else.
But as the days passed, and time lent more objectivity to her troubled mind, she knew she couldn’t let him go thinking the worst about her without at least getting a chance to explain her side of it.
She had to track him down. The idea that he thought she might have two-timed him—that she’d had something with Matt and had intended to start something with him—crucified her.
“Hey, Mel. How’s it going?” The sound of Matt’s voice jerked her out of her daydreaming. She spun around, her insides lurching. “What do you want?” The scarf lay stretched out between her hands.
“Nothing. Just came by to see how you were.” He stood in front of her, holding a batch of CDs in one hand. She’d not seen him since that day and as grateful as she’d been not to have run into him so far, she wasn’t prepared to deal with him— especially now, the way he stood, in her space, on her floor.
Her body tensed, but the last thing she wanted was for him to think he had dominion over her. “I couldn’t be better,” she told him, and held his gaze with a look of defiance even though deep down her insides had turned to liquid.
“Yeah?” He cocked his head and eyed her easily and with no qualms about the way he’d behaved.
“Are you here for Nadine?” She glanced at the CDs he held.
“No.”
So why don’t you just get the hell lost?
She walked away from him and put her scarf and coat away in the closet, taking her time. Sitting back down at her desk meant she’d only end up being closer to him. “You don’t have to be scared of me, Mel.”
Quit calling me Mel.
She unfolded her arms and slowly walked towards him, stopping when she reached her chair. She gripped the top of the backrest, choosing to remain standing. “I’m not scared of you.”
He leaned over her desk and placed his knuckles on the table. “You don’t have to say it. It’s written all over you.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
He straightened up and glanced at his CDs and then at her, and had the audacity to smile.
The creep.
The more he stayed
, the more he repulsed her. How could she ever have gotten it so wrong? “I don’t know what I ever saw in you,” she bit back, harnessing strength from somewhere. “You’re sick. You might want to seek professional help.”
His neck muscles corded. “Thanks for the lasting memories.” He held up the CDs as a trophy before he sauntered away from her desk. There was something uneasy, something she hated more than usual about his last remark, about that too-confident smirk of his and the way he’d casually mentioned the CDs.
She gripped the chair tighter. Had he…could he…have filmed her that last time?
No.
No.
No.
Not possible.
He was calling her bluff. Wasn’t he?
And yet the idea that he had refused to fade. If he said something, the chances were he’d already done it.
She closed her eyes to center herself, to gather her thoughts and to put herself back together again. Her hands started to sweat and her chest tightened, but she pushed past the rising panic and stilled herself just enough to sense it: not indignation, not anger, but something else. Something that soared, and raged, and roared, until the pounding of her heart drummed louder and the racing of her pulse grew faster, and they rose, in symphony together, to a triumphant high, one deafening crescendo before exploding and breaking free.
The release of guilt now turned to hatred.
She knew where he lived, and she knew at once what it was she had to do.
Chapter 35
“This is insane. You’re not thinking straight.” Was Heather’s opinion when she’d first suggested her crazy idea. But her friend had followed her anyway.
The idea, piercing her consciousness like an almighty arrow, had slowly and stealthily taken form in her suspicious mind.
Now that she was here she’d have to carry it through. The notion that Matt had more incriminating evidence on her had been her turning point.
She couldn’t sit back and let the matter rest. The more she thought about that shithead, the more the anger slowly rose inside her until it turned into a scorching fireball that propelled her into action.
He had already ruined her chances with Noah, and she wasn’t about to let him think he had something else to hold over her. And she couldn’t rest until she had at least checked out her suspicions. If she found something, she would have to destroy it. But first she needed to gain access to his room. And to do it while he wasn’t around.
She marched on ahead, putting her hand into the front of her coat pocket to feel for the memory stick. This time she’d get all the evidence and trash it from his computers, assuming her theory—fuelled by his threat—proved itself right.
Half galloping to keep up with her, Heather muttered at her side. “You want to go back into his apartment and do what exactly?” She’d told Heather her plan along the way, knowing that Heather would come along because she was curious and because she was a good friend and that’s what friends did.
Even if Melissa was only willing to supply half the story.
Heather still knew nothing of what had gone on that last day between Melissa and Matt. Nor did she know that Noah lived at the same place as Matt.
“It doesn’t make sense why you’re going back to his place. Can’t you call him and meet somewhere neutral?” Heather demanded.
But Melissa concentrated her gaze on the apartment across the road and looked at her watch. It would be time soon.
She was taking a huge risk doing this. While she knew about Matt’s timing—that he’d be out jogging soon because he was so anally OCD about his routines—she couldn’t vouch for the others. It was the encounter with Noah that she dreaded and hoped her luck wasn’t so down that she’d run into him this time around. Breaking into Matt’s room seemed somehow easier than running into Noah.
What would she do if she saw him?
Now, as she hid in the bushes across the road from his apartment with Heather constantly asking questions, she started to doubt the wisdom of her plan. She hadn’t thought about it much when she’d left work and met Heather at her work place. She knew his half an hour run would give her enough time to go into his room and take what was hers and destroy it all. She’d be gone by the time—if and when—his friends told Matt that she’d been here sniffing around.
It was daring, it was insane, it was everything Heather had said it was, but Melissa had never been so hell-bent on her desire to ensure the little shit didn’t get away with it. She hadn’t allowed herself to be degraded just so that he could film her and then blackmail her further down the line.
If he didn’t come out tonight, she’d have to try tomorrow night. And the night after that. She peered from behind the bushes, completely ignoring Heather’s futile attempts at reason.
“Will you listen to me!” Her friend poked her in the arm to grab her attention. “This is stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this with you. Why can’t you go knock on his door and sort it out?”
“Because he’s got something that belongs to me.”
“Why don’t you ask for it back?”
“He doesn’t know I know he’s got it.”
“What?” Heather shrieked. “That doesn’t even make sense. What are we talking about here? Military intelligence?”
“It’s…stuff,” was all that Melissa would say.
“You’re breaking and entering,” Heather hissed.
Melissa turned to her friend calmly. “I’m not going to break in,” she explained. “Someone will let me in and if nobody’s in today, we’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“We’re staking out your weirdo-ex all week? Do you think I don’t have better things to do with my time?”
Melissa shrank back against the bushes and pushed Heather back too. Thankfully the fast falling darkness now also provided a double blanket of protection for them.
“Shhh.” Melissa peered over the road when she saw him come out. She glanced at her watch, just on time. Around seven thirty on a Thursday. And Mondays and Tuesdays. The guy was OCD to a fault.
The thrill of exhilaration buzzed as the adrenaline burst through her. Gung-ho madness took hold. The meek and ordinarily obedient Melissa suddenly had a new lease of life doing something so extraordinarily out of her usual realm of existence that it was like watching her alter ego on the big screen.
“Stay put,” she ordered Heather and got ready to make her way. Her insides felt as though they’d almost clambered up her throat. She tried to steady her rapid breathing. Heather opened her mouth to object but stopped, as if the sudden gravity of the situation had hit her.
“Keep a look out in that direction in case he comes back early.” Melissa pointed to her right, towards the street, knowing his jogging route well by now. “He’ll come from that way. The minute you see him, you call me but that’s only in an emergency, if he comes back early. I’ll be back well before he shows up.” She took a hold of Heather’s shoulders. “Stay alert—no getting distracted by your cell.”
Heather looked as though she was going to throw up. “You don’t have to do this, Melissa. Whatever it is he has of yours, shouldn’t you just ask for it back?” It was a late, last minute plea by Heather to drum sense into her. “Or tell the police?” Heather looked panicked. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
“I’ll be fine. Try not to be so scared.” Melissa tried to reassure her. She couldn’t believe it herself that she was doing this anymore than Heather was. But Heather wasn’t the one with a sordid recording of hers lying around for Matt to hold against her as a threat. “I have to do this. I’ve got no choice.” What would she tell anyone? Who would she tell? Nadine? The head of IT? The police? It wasn’t serious enough for her to go that route. And yet it wasn’t something she wanted anyone to ever find out about. Especially not her parents or anyone at work.
Heather looked weak, as if she’d bolt at any second if she had a chance.
Melissa squeezed her friend’s shoulder as if trying to gain some c
onviction herself. “It’ll all be over before you know it.”
And with that Melissa hurried across the road and disappeared through the main door to his apartment block. Soon she was in his hallway, heading toward the apartment door. The urge to turn around and go home was strong, but she forced herself to move forward. It was now or never.
When the door opened, her heart stopped. Until the other guy, whose name she couldn’t remember, came out. “Hi.” He smiled and rushed past her, leaving the door for her, not thinking anything of it.
Pure, miraculous luck.
She breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good. Filled with boundless energy, she scurried into the apartment and, seeing that the coast was clear, she tiptoed to his room.
The only sound to be heard was the beating of her heart.
Melissa felt a sense of dread as she stepped once more into the tawdry room where he’d used her. Solid as steel, she blocked the images of that last day from her mind and focused on the laptop which lay on his desk, as expected, facing the bed. She stole upon it, and moved the mouse. Then nearly fainted when it asked for a password. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. She’d barely caught the last few letters the other day.
Ah.
It was worth a try. She typed MELISSA.
And got in.
She glanced at her watch quickly. Ten minutes had shunted by. She wanted to be out of here in another ten, to avoid the risk of bumping into him.
Frantically, she searched through the file folders, her legs restless, her heart going ninety. She worked her way through the directories and looked through the most recently used files and folders.
There were a lot of images here. She couldn’t help but look through them. And her breath hitched in her throat. Images of other girls stared back at her. Girls like her, past girlfriends perhaps? Their poses were similar, and they were in similar stages of undress, posing provocatively. Some were worse, but unlike her, many of these girls seemed to be smiling. She moved on fast, pointing and clicking the mouse with frenzied madness, even as she rushed through some photos that almost bordered on pornographic.
