Pretty Little Lies

by Jennifer Miller

  The second picture is of Luke. Set in a black frame, Luke is looking back at me and is wearing a cap and gown, holding a diploma in his hands. His smile is so wide, his dimple is showing. My stomach clenches at the image. I should have been standing next to him. Seeing him standing there alone makes me sad. Things could have and should have been different. Did he think of me then? Had he wondered if I was having a graduation of my own around the same time? The thoughts are upsetting, and I feel a bit of panic set in. Why am I here? I should leave. I’m not ready to be here. I don’t want to deal with these emotions.

  Moving my eyes to the last picture, I gasp and pick up the heavy silver frame. Holding it in my hand in disbelief, I stare at the picture of Luke and I in caps and gowns at our high school graduation. My hair is even longer than it is now, and I’m smiling a big smile, but not at the person taking the picture. No. I’m smiling up at Luke. I remember that day and know I have nothing but pure love shining in my eyes as I look at him. Luke is looking at the camera. He has a big smile on his face too and his eyes are shining, displaying his joy. The look on our faces makes me ache and wish we could go back to that day. I long to once again feel the happiness I see reflected in my eyes. I’m tired of every emotion I feel lately being laced with pain and loss. We look so young – our lives just getting ready to begin.

  After I left Luke, I boxed up all of my pictures with the two of us together and have never really thought of them again. I think my parents have them stored somewhere, because they wouldn’t have thrown them out. I left them at my old house because I couldn’t bear to burn them or throw them away. This picture feels like it was a lifetime ago.

  I hear the floor creak behind me and I turn around, facing Luke. Looking at him with what I’m sure is pure disbelief on my face I whisper, “You still have this?”

  Looking in my eyes, he replies, “I still have them all.”

  “But why? Why would you have this up on your mantle?”

  “When I ran into you again at Maggiano’s restaurant - when you didn’t even know I was there – I became even more determined to find you. I knew you were here, I actually saw you, and my desire to talk to you and to be able to look into your eyes again, to explain…was overwhelming. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, let alone that you would walk into my club one day. The next day I went to my parents’ house. My old room is almost exactly like it was when I lived there, it’s actually a little embarrassing to tell you the truth. I went to the top of my closet and pulled down the box I had stored there that held all of our pictures and gifts you had given me…just remembering. I came across that photo and I couldn’t stop staring at it. I started to feel hope. I brought it here and placed it on the mantle as a reminder to me not to give up. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but when I look at that picture, and remember us, it comforts me and reminds me to be understanding and patient because in the end, it will be worth it. You’re worth it, angel.”

  I shake my head in disbelief, “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. You asked, and I just wanted to tell you the truth,” he grins, “No lies.”

  “I still have the ring you gave me,” I whisper to him, as though I’m revealing a deep dark secret.

  That grin of his becomes magnificent and his dimple winks at me. I feel my heart leap in my chest and a feeling of warmth travels from the top of my head all the way down to my toes, completely enveloping me. I tingle in my chest, my belly and between my legs at his beauty. “You do?” he asks, surprised.

  “Yes.” My voice sounds gravelly from my emotions, “I was looking for a pair of earrings a while back and came across it. I could never bring myself to get rid of it. I’ve kept it in a box with my other jewelry all these years.”

  “I’m going to get you to wear that ring again someday.” I look at the ground in response not, sure how to respond. “Here’s your water, love.”

  I can feel my resolve start to melt a little at his endearment. There is a warm feeling in my heart that isn’t going away. “Thank you.”

  “Why don’t we sit down?” He gestures to his couch and the two of us take a seat and I twist the cap of my water off and take a few swallows. I didn’t realize how thirsty I am. Luke places his hand on my knee, “Tell me about Deacon.”

  I take a deep breath and look him in the eye, “I’m not sure I even know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning. I want to know it all. From the day you met him.”

  I nod my head and take a deep breath.

  begin to think back to four years ago when Deacon and I met. “Sometimes I wish I’d never gone to the party where I met him. My roommate, Abigail, had begged me to go to a party off campus with her. She told me how much fun it would be and teased me for all my studying and told me I deserved a break. She was right, it felt like I had been studying non-stop the moment I arrived in Boston. Never taking a break or having fun.” I look right at Luke, “I was determined to do everything I could to just throw myself into my schooling. I wanted to forget. I wanted to forget you. I wanted to try to forget my broken heart and move on the only way I knew how.”

  Luke squeezes his eyes closed for a moment at my words, but then opens them and nods his head at me to continue. I feel awful, I’m not trying to hurt him, but I’m not going to hold back either. If he wants to know, then he will be told everything.

  I laugh a little at the memory of my roommate, “I remember Abigail whining and hopping from one foot to the other, waiting for me to agree with her. How could I say no?” I shrug. “I agreed and told her I would go with her, but if the party got too rowdy and out of control, then I wanted her to promise me we would leave. That kind of thing wasn’t my scene. Not yet anyway.”

  Luke’s eyes widen at my words because that doesn’t sound like the girl he once knew. He’s quiet, though, and just listens to me, looking at me intently.

  “I don’t even know if she heard me ask her to make that promise because the second I agreed to go with her, she started squealing and tearing through our closets, picking out clothes she deemed worthy of getting us ‘some hot action’. I decided if I was going to go, I was going to do it up right and I threw myself into getting ready. More than anything, I just wanted to fit in.”

  I think back, remembering every detail of that night, even applying my makeup. Heavy eyes in lavender that made my green eyes pop, just enough blush to make my cheeks look flush and a nude lip completed the look. I flat ironed my hair stick straight and parted it in the middle. It curled at the ends nicely and I put way too much hair spray in it so it would keep its sleek look. I wore a short, sleeveless, studded black mini dress. The front of the dress had gold studs that went in a vertical line down the front on either side, another row which curved around the neckline, and two rows of studs that crisscrossed over the top of my breasts, meeting the vertical rows on each side, emphasizing my hourglass shape. My dress was short, but I knew it was downright modest compared to what other girls would be wearing. I had a gold cuff around my wrist, gold hoops in my ears, and high black stilettos on my feet. I was going to regret them later, I knew, but at the time, I didn’t care.

  Abigail looked great too, in a bright red mini that had short sleeves and dipped so low in the front that if her boobs were any bigger, it would’ve been indecent. Somehow, she completely pulled it off, the whole look came together with nude stilettos, simple diamond studs in her ears and natural makeup.

  Snapping myself out of those memories, I continue. “When we finally arrived at the party, which took a little bit of time because everyone takes the T everywhere, we could feel the vibration from the music outside the house. People were milling around the front yard, and the house was lit up like a Christmas tree. I remember being surprised that they weren’t worried about angry neighbors or policemen coming and making them turn the music down.”

  “We were giggling in anticipation as we entered the house and I admit, I was excited. It was my first college part
y and I just wanted to start having some fun. I was so tired of feeling sorry for myself, so tired of missing you, and feeling like nothing was making the thought of you disappear.” Luke nods in understanding, pain filling his eyes, but he still doesn’t speak. “The music was so loud when we walked in that I had to practically scream at Abigail just to be heard. Drinks were immediately thrust into our hands, and people right and left were greeting Abigail. It was blaringly obvious, to me at least, just how secluded I had kept myself because I didn’t know anyone.”

  “Abigail pulled me onto the dance floor and I was all too eager. I started dancing and quickly lost myself to the music. A few beers, and a couple hours later I was feeling pretty damn relaxed and more comfortable with myself. I didn’t even feel concerned that I had no clue where Abigail had gone off to. The last time I had seen her, she was practically getting molested on the dance floor by some frat boy, and I assumed she was making the most of that situation. Feeling warm, I decided to make my way outside to get some air. I strolled toward the back of the house, weaving in and out of bodies, and finally stepped outside.”

  I don’t even see Luke in front of me anymore. I’m looking through him and I can see the party playing out before me, like a movie. I even see myself breathe in deeply and take a moment to look up at the sky. The moon was huge in the sky that night and the stars seemed to shine extra bright. I thought they were beautiful.

  “I was standing there, just enjoying the feel of the cool air on my skin and the view, drinking a beer when some drunken idiot stumbled into me from behind so hard, he almost knocked me over and caused me to spill my beer. I said, ‘Excuse you, asshole’ to him and the guy turned to look at me. He looked incredibly mean. I could see anger in his eyes, his face was pinched, hands fisted and his eyes roamed over my body. When he finished getting his fill, he looked me in the eyes and sneered. He said, ‘Hey baby, if you were words on a page, you’d be what they call fine print.’”

  Luke’s lips lift slightly at the ridiculous come on and I smile a little in return. “My mouth dropped open in surprise because I couldn’t believe how lame this guy was and then…and then I just started laughing. I was laughing at him so hard I could barely breathe. He didn’t like my laughing at him much. I don’t know if he really thought that line would work for him, or what. He reached for me and tried to grab me in anger but before he could, a guy stepped in front of me, his back facing me and told Mr. Lame Pick Up Line Guy that he had had enough to drink and to walk away from me or he would make him.”

  “Mr. Lame Pick Up Guy – whom I found out was named Steve - walked away, and the guy that had been my hero turned to face me.”

  I stop talking for a second and take a drink of my water, remembering seeing Deacon for the first time. My breath had caught, and I thought his blue eyes were pretty. He was tall, with blond hair and a tan that seemed out of place in Boston. He had been wearing jeans, a white t-shirt which was tight over his lean chest, and he held my attention.

  Before I can continue, there is a knock on Luke’s door. Luke and I both startle at the sound. He was so caught up in my story, and me in my thoughts, that the knock sounded louder than it actually was. “That would be our dinner. I’ll be right back.” He heads to the door, I hear it open, his voice murmuring as he talks to the delivery person and then the door closes again. Luke reappears, carrying our food. “Let’s move to the bar or dining room table.”

  “The bar works. Can I get the plates?”

  “No plates needed, angel, let’s just be casual and eat out of the cartons. Okay with you?”

  “Low-key, I like it. What did you get?”

  “I got you your favorite, beef and broccoli.” Luke stops and looks at me, “Well at least that used to be your favorite. Shit, I just ordered and I didn’t even ask you.”

  “It’s okay, you did good. I still love beef and broccoli, that’s perfect.” I couldn’t mean it more, my stomach actually growled as soon as he said beef and broccoli. “And did you get yourself chicken fried rice or has that changed for you?”

  He grins, “You got it. I love that you still remember.” I smile, pleased that I still remembered as well.

  He hands me my carton of food and chopsticks. I open it, rip the chopsticks apart, and take a bite, “Mmmm… so good.”

  I feel Luke’s eyes on me; when I look up, he’s staring at my mouth. I involuntarily lick them in response. I clear my throat and he shakes his head, looks away, then takes a bite of his rice. “So continue. The last thing you said was that the hero guy turned around to look at you.”

  “Yes, you’re right. He turned to face me and told me he had seen Steve starting to harass me and thought he would give me a hand. I thanked him but told him I could have handled it fine on my own.” Luke smiles a bit at this.

  “He said to me, ‘I’m sure you could have, princess, but I thought I’d rescue you because your feet look tired since you’ve been running through my mind all day.’ He gave me that one liner with a straight look on his face until he couldn’t hold it in any longer and then he broke out in a huge grin that made me smile at him in return and start laughing. I held out my hand and introduced myself; he told me his name was Deacon.”

  I take another bite of my food and as I chew, my eyes move to Luke’s face. I see his lips are in a grim line reminding me that this is hard for him to hear, but part of me doesn’t care. It didn’t have to be this way, he is responsible for that. He looks at me, encouragement on his face and sadness still lingering in his eyes and I realize that Luke knows that too. I don’t need to place blame on him anymore because he already carries it on his own.

  “That party ended up being the first of many. Deacon and I started dating and hanging out almost constantly after that. I drank heavily, experimented a lot, and deep down I convinced myself he was everything I could ever want and I was sure I was madly in love with him.” I can hear Luke’s teeth grind at that statement, but I ignore it. I take another bite of my food and after I swallow, I continue.

  “I realize now all the lies I told myself. He was allowed to hang out with his friends whenever he wanted, but the second he couldn’t get ahold of me, he would flip out. I lost most of my friends because of him, but it was okay because I told myself Deacon was just being over-protective and he just didn’t want to share me. It was okay that Deacon could wear his tight jeans and shirts and then dictate to me what I was allowed to wear and what I was not allowed to wear because that just meant he was possessive and didn’t want anyone seeing what was his. It was okay that he drank a little too much because he was just having fun. It was okay that he proposed to me in Vegas while he was drunk and wanted to take me immediately to seal the deal because that just meant he wanted me so desperately. It was okay if he would squeeze me a little too tight and leave bruises because that just meant he was passionate.”

  Luke throws down his food on the table and stands, up knocking his chair over. His eyes are furious, his hands are balled into fists, and his posture is tense. He is gritting his teeth so hard I can hear them grinding together. “He hit you?” he spits.

  “No. He never struck me. He would grab me a lot, hard, when he was angry, and sometimes his grip would leave bruises.”

  “That isn’t any better, Olivia. That is not okay. Not ever. Tell me you know that. Tell me you got out right away and that you didn’t endure that over and over.”

  I smile a soft smile at Luke, trying to calm him down, “Sit down, Luke.”

  It takes him a minute, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then picks his chair up off the floor, sits back down, and starts cleaning up the rice that fell out of his container when he threw it on the table. “I didn’t leave right away, no. But I did eventually and that is what matters.”

  Luke closes his eyes briefly again and rubs his temples, “The way he spoke to you on the phone, does he always talk to you like that? What was the last straw that made you finally get out? What changed?”

  I sigh. I’m embarrasse
d. I know this isn’t a reflection on me, but that doesn’t mean it is easy to confess or that it didn’t take me a while to reach that conclusion through time and therapy. “He would speak to me like that when he got angry. He would start out in a pleading and nice tone, but if I wouldn’t comply – and comply quickly- his tone changed. As far as the last straw…well…” I tense up and close my eyes. I feel Luke place his hand on mine and squeeze.

  “You’re scaring me, Livvie,” he whispers. “Please tell me he didn’t hurt you.”

  I look up into his eyes and take a deep breath, “I started having a feeling he was cheating on me. He would have crazy excuses for being home late and he wouldn’t always answer when I’d call. Sometimes he would cancel our plans at the last minute and tell me he had to work late or that everyone at work decided to go to dinner and he couldn’t get out of it. One time I called his office when he was supposed to be working late, but there was no answer. Of course he had a reason for that too, though I don’t remember what it was now. What really made the light bulb finally go on for me though was when he accused me of cheating on him. A few times, he would confront me and want to know if I was seeing someone else for one ridiculous reason or another. I never did cheat on him, but somewhere inside, I knew he was asking and acting paranoid because he was projecting his own guilt onto me. I didn’t know for sure, I had no proof. Until the day I came home early and found him screwing another woman in our bed,” Luke squeezes my hand so hard it hurts, “that was almost a year ago now.”

  “What did you do?”