Secrets and Lies

by Annie Jocoby

  I was a mean pool player myself, but not quite up to her level. So, I had been practicing a bit more. Jake and I went down there when I wasn’t working or seeing Dalilah, and we hung out and took our shots. I was getting better, and, yeah, I wanted to show Dalilah my skills. It was embarrassing how much I wanted to show off for her.

  I texted Dalilah my message about spaghetti and meatballs and pool, and she texted back four words that seemed ominous. “We need to talk.”

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t like that sound of that. For one thing, it didn’t sound like her, at all. She never was that serious, even in her texts. And, once again, there wasn’t any kind of emoticon or other niceties that she usually included in her messages.

  I was vaguely apprehensive, but I had no idea why. I felt my breath catch as I texted her back. “Sure, when and where?”

  “Let me come over,” she texted. “I’ll be there within an hour.”

  “See you then.” My texts were mirroring hers. Short, staccato, all business. I had no idea why Dalilah would be acting so strangely, and it was making me feel really off all of a sudden.

  My mind wouldn’t entertain the possibility that perhaps she was getting cold feet. There was just no way. I mean, she and I never had an off moment between us. Whether we were having sex, watching movies, going out, or just sitting together reading, we were truly comfortable with each other. I couldn’t imagine that Dalilah would want to get cold feet when we really seemed to get each other so well.

  Well, if she is getting cold feet, you’ll deal with it. Give her space, and she’ll come around. After all, she was only 20 years old. Maybe she had a friend who told her that she was some kind of a nut for committing to somebody when she was so young. Maybe we might have to wait a few years. I mean, that would be cool, as long as we still were together. Did I want to wait? Hell, no, I wanted to be married to her yesterday. Would I wait? Yeah, I would. It probably would be prudent to wait anyhow.

  So, yeah. Maybe she just wanted to tell me that she wanted to wait until both of us were going with our careers. Because there was one thing that I knew – Dalilah was going to make it big again. God, that woman was talented. I was astounded by some of her latest works. She wasn’t rusty at all. They always say that former athletes have muscle memory, so that, even when they get all blubbery after they quit playing their sport, they could bounce back and get in shape again a lot quicker than somebody who never played sports.

  From the looks of things, there was such a thing as artistic memory as well. Dalilah was once in the big leagues in the art world. It might have been years ago, but, once she picked up her art again, she went right back to where she was. A superstar. Everybody was going to want her.

  That’s probably all it is. She got her voice back, so it was time to try to make a name for herself again. She probably wanted to wait to get established before we got married.

  That’s all it is, I told myself. That’s all it is.

  Chapter 3

  Dalilah

  Nottingham sent me a limo that would take me to Luke’s. As much as I wanted to just take the bus and subway like I usually did, Nottingham insisted. So, I acquiesced.

  I stared out the window, trying to rehearse what it was that I was going to say. How I was going to say it. One thing I knew, I was going to have play a part. There was no way that I could go over there without getting into some kind of actress mode, because I couldn’t get through it.

  As it was, I had to stop the limo several times so that I could get out and puke. I felt sorry for the people who had to pick up the trash from those cans, because I left them a mess.

  I felt myself shaking all over, and I tried very hard to remember some of the lessons I learned in my various acting courses over the years. My high school offered these courses for people, like myself, who had either tested out of the basic courses or had already completed them. Since I tested out of just about everything, I was able to take fun electives such as acting. I actually got into them. I loved the chance to play somebody else, to really inhabit that person’s skin.

  I even thought briefly about trying to become an actress once I got to New York and still couldn’t get my art muse back. I soon was dissuaded from this, however, when I talked to Scotty’s bestie Jack, who lived just a few houses down from Scotty and Nick.

  “You have to have the passion for it, girly, not just the looks. And, god knows, you do have the looks.”

  “You mean I can’t make it unless it’s something that I really and truly want?”

  He snorted. “Honey, it’s hard to make it even if you do have the passion for it. If you don’t, then forget it. Sorry to disappoint.”

  I knew that, really. Jack had a lot of problems getting even the smallest part until his breakthrough role in The Odd Couple. That play was a smash, and he was on his way. But, before that, it was many, many years of languishing in the chorus, going to auditions and just generally starving until he got his break. And he was passionate about it. It was his only dream in life. It was what he lived and breathed.

  For me, I was a dilettante at best when it came to acting. So, I didn’t pursue it. But I had learned enough in those classes to do a passable acting job.

  So, as I sat there in the limo, I ran through some of my acting exercises in my head. I tried to get my “part” in my head. I was going to play the part of a ruthless bitch who was playing Luke like a cello. I was going to have to come off cold and cruel.

  I was going to be playing the part of Nottingham. As ironic as that was, Nottingham was the first person I thought of when I tried to figure out who my character was going to be modeled upon.

  I was going to get through this. I was going to get through this, and then, after I left him devastated, I was going to go home and cry like I had never cried before.

  The limo made its way to Luke’s apartment. As much as I wanted time to just stand still so that I never had to do what I was about to do, the limo made it there way too soon. I looked down at my hand, which was shaking like a leaf. I willed myself not to puke again. I took a mirror out of my purse, and tried to make my face the way that I wanted it. I wanted my eyes to be cold and lifeless. I needed him to not see how I was really feeling.

  Because what I was really feeling was beyond devastated. Beyond depressed. Beyond hopeless.

  I had to do this, and I had to do it right. I had to do it so that he could move on. I had to make him think that he was wrong about me, dead wrong, so that he could get over me. Rip off that band-aid so that he could start to heal.

  Taking a deep breath, I made the dreaded walk up his stairwell. I got to his apartment and knocked on his door.

  This was going to be the longest night of my entire life.

  Chapter 4

  Luke opened the door. I almost melted right then and there. Inside, I was screaming for help. My inner self wanted so badly just to fall into his arms and rip off his clothes and make love with him all night long. Just feel our naked bodies entwined with one another. I was so in love with that guy...I never thought it was possible to feel that strongly for another human being. I never thought that another person could get me on so many levels.

  I wondered if I could pull it off. Even if I managed to somehow give the performance of mine or anybody’s life, Luke probably would still see through it. He saw my very soul, I was convinced of that.

  Still, I had to try.

  As cold as I possibly could, I said “hello, Luke. Please have a seat. I need to tell you a few things.”

  He crinkled up his brows and looked at me quizzically. “You okay, Dalilah?” My heart broke as I looked at his face. He was still so trusting, so open. He definitely wasn’t even entertaining the idea that I might be about to break his heart.

  That wasn’t even on his radar.

  “I’m fine,” I said curtly. “Please sit down.”

  He looked at me like he didn’t quite know what to do. He kind of had his usual crooked grin on his face, the crooked grin that
always made me swoon. He narrowed his eyes, and smiled. “You playing some kind of game, Dalilah? If so, you haven’t let me in on it. But, I get it. I’m supposed to pretend that you’re somebody else. Maybe some lady who got lost in the rain and now you’re here, all lost and alone. Well, I’ll play along. I kind of like role-playing, to be honest with you.”

  I took a deep breath. Come on, Dalilah, you have to pull this off. You have to break his heart completely. You can’t back down. His career depends on this. His very future depends on this.

  “No, Luke. No games. I need to talk to you.”

  He cocked his head, and, still looking confused, he sat down on the couch. He patted the cushion next to him, his expression confused, yet still hopeful.

  I just shook my head. “No, I’m okay right here.”

  He blinked his eyes at me, and, finally, his expression was starting to look concerned. “I don’t understand. What’s going on, Dalilah?”

  “I’m very sorry, Luke. I can’t be with you anymore.”

  Now he was really starting to look like he was about to either panic or go into shock. “I’m sorry? I don’t follow. What are you talking about? Dalilah? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m sorry. I carried this all too far. The truth is, I never really wanted to be with you. I think that maybe you knew that about me. That I really need to be with somebody wealthy. My parents brought me up with a certain standard, and my husband is going to have to keep me in those standards.”

  Now he was really looking confused. He shook his head manically and stood up. “What? What do you mean that you carried this too far? What, was this all a game to you all along?”

  “Yes, Luke. It was all a game. That’s what I do. Play games. Mind-fucking games. I’m quite good at it, too. But, it went too far. I knew that it went too far when you asked me to marry you. I never wanted it to go that far. And now it’s over. Sorry.”

  Now he was getting agitated. “Oh my fucking god. I can’t even believe this. I meant nothing to you? Really? This was all an act?” He looked like he couldn’t quite comprehend what I was saying to him. “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it. I mean, you’re just going to fuck with somebody like that? What kind of a monster are you?”

  “I can’t help it. I have antisocial personality disorder. You do know that is, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I fucking know what that is. It means that you don’t have empathy or real feelings. You don’t have a fucking conscience. I know all about that. Goddamn it, why does this bullshit keep happening to me?”

  For just one second, I almost broke character. I wondered what he meant by that.

  Now he was pacing. “Serena. One of my sisters. She has that. Broke my parents’ heart so many fucking times. Stole from all of us. Lied to us all. Didn’t even fucking go to my mom’s funeral. What a fucking waste. Goddamn it, Dalilah, you’re good. You’re good. I thought that I would know a psychopath when I saw it because I grew up around that. Lived that all my life. You got in under my radar, and that really pisses me off.”

  My heart broke when he referenced his mom’s funeral. I never even got a chance to find out what happened there. He was still raw about it, whatever it was. That was one of the things that I was wanting to do – help him come to terms with that. He was so kind and optimistic, yet I could always sense a certain level of sadness in him, and I knew that it was related to his mom.

  Come on, Dalilah, you can’t back down now. You’re almost home free. I nodded my head a little. “Well, Luke, I don’t really care about any of that. I’m a mercenary, really. I go where the money is, and it certainly isn’t here.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Well, that was below the belt, and if you were a human being, you would know that. But, you’re not.” He shook his head. “How did I not know? God, how could I be so fucking stupid?” He sat down, and put his head in his hands.

  I fought down the urge to go to him. To put my hand on his shoulder and comfort him and tell him everything. Tell him the whole sordid and sorry story and let the chips fall where they may, as my dad would say.

  No, Dalilah. No. If you do that, Luke’s future is done. Done. Do this, Dalilah. Do it.

  So, while he sat there on the couch, his head in his hands, I simply turned around and walked out the door.

  I fled down the steps and into the waiting limousine, where I collapsed into a torrent of tears.

  When I got home, I took off my clothes and got into bed and cried all night long.

  Chapter 5

  Luke

  Two Weeks Later

  My door was knocking. I had no idea who was on the other side, nor did I care. I didn’t care about much, actually, even my show, which was coming up in a week and a half. Not that I even had to do anything, because Nottingham was taking care of all of that, but he did want me to make a guest appearance during opening night. It was optional, of course, but he told me that if the patrons and public could meet the artist, my paintings were more likely to sell.

  Fuck that. It took all my energy just to go to work, and I was like a zombie there. The rest of the time, I pretty much just slept. Wasn’t eating too much, either. That, too, took too much energy. And my workouts were definitely suffering as well.

  As for the guys? I didn’t answer their calls. No way did I want to act all cheerful and like nothing was wrong, when everything was clearly wrong.

  I hated that I fell so hard for a con artist like that fucking Dalilah. A con artist. How stupid was I? Goddammit, and she was so fucking good, too. She played the part so masterfully, there was just no way that I could have ever seen that she was actually a sociopath who apparently got her rocks off on seducing guys and making them fall madly in love with her, and then pulling the rug out in the most unceremonious and cold way possible. Cold. Cruel. That’s what she was. She wasn’t who I thought she was at all.

  She was Ted Bundy. Charming on the outside, but her façade was just a shell that hid her cold, cruel heart. No, sorry, that wasn’t even a good description. Because she, by definition, didn’t have a heart. And, yeah, Ted Bundy was probably going a bit too far, because Dalilah wasn’t a serial killer, to my knowledge. But, then again, anything was possible.

  Dalilah wasn’t Ted Bundy, really. She was more like Serena. I had two sisters, one who was the Bridezilla, and she was pretty cool most of the time. Two brothers, Mark and Chris, who were twins and just a little older than me. Both were pretty chill.

  And then there was Serena. She was eight years older than me, and she was the most manipulative woman alive. From the start, she would lie to me to get me to do what she wanted. Started with promises that she didn’t keep – like she would give me five bucks if I would let her cheat in our card games. Went on to blackmail, as she told me that she would tell awful lies to the girl I was crushing on if I didn’t give her my allowance. And that was just the kid’s stuff.

  Everything out of Serena’s mouth was a lie, and we all figured that out pretty early on. She would crash the car, and then blame her boyfriend, who wasn’t even driving. She had no problem implicating him, though, even though the forensics of the crash proved that she was the one who drove the car. She got a high powered job at a law firm by pretty much sleeping with everyone in the office, married or no. Serena was married, but had multiple affairs, yet would fly into an absolute rage if her husband even looked at another woman.

  Just like Dalilah, Serena was charismatic and beautiful. People let her get away with everything, because nobody could ever imagine that such a woman would be so devious and cunning and heartless. She was able to cheat people ruthlessly, and she used this ability constantly.

  And when my mom died, Serena couldn’t be bothered to make it to the funeral. She wasn’t talking to my mom, anyhow, because my mother had called her out on her bullshit more than once. Serena stole $5000 from my mom by getting access to my mom’s bank account, and refused to pay it back. $5000 doesn’t seem like a lot, but, for my mother, it was more than she could f
inancially afford. My mom saved all that she could from her part-time job working at the local Wal-Mart, so $5000 to her was a lot of money. And it was in her personal account, as my pop pretty much let my mom spend her Wal-Mart income on anything that she wanted, and my mom loved that sense of independence.

  Mom pressed charges against Serena, a move that the rest of the family cheered. It was about time Serena had to pay for the crap that she put us through. And that was that. Serena refused to talk to mom after that, even though she was still a minor and living under the same roof as mom and pop. And she has never, to this day, addressed mom’s death whenever we were subjected to seeing her. She acted like none of it even happened. The rest of us were devastated beyond belief, in shock and in worse pain than anybody should ever have to bear. Not Serena. She was busy getting her nails done while we were watching my mom being lowered into the ground.

  “I can’t go to the funeral,” she said, “not with these nail chips. You guys have fun.” And she bounced out the door, and didn’t come home until the next day. She apparently ran into some guy she knew and couldn’t make it back. My pop was so devastated by what happened that he didn’t even challenge her.

  In fact, my pop was a devastated shell of a man, period, even now. A light went out when my mom was murdered, and he was never the same. Never the same.

  The same light went out in me when Dalilah showed her true colors. I shouldn’t even compare my devastation to my pop’s, though – mom and pop were married 20 years, and had five kids with one another. I had known Dalilah for only a matter of months.

  Yet, I felt that I had known her forever.

  Turns out, I didn’t know her at all. Period. That thought made my insides churn.

  The door kept knocking, and I didn’t make a move to answer it. Finally, the door got kicked in, and Jake and Henry, two of my best buddies, were bursting into the apartment.