May
I wake, feeling like garbage.
My phone screen is lit like I’ve got a message. Which is odd. No one has messaged or called me since I’d blocked him.
The text makes my heart sink right to my toes. It’s Katie.
Sara! I’m coming home. Visit meeee! <3
No, no, no, no… this can’t be happening.
I sit back down on the bed, feeling lightheaded and sick at heart. This is the end. It’s all over now. There’ll be no hiding who I am anymore.
Kate won’t be okay with this like Babs was. She’ll ask me what the fuck I’m doing, and she’ll be pissed I’m messing around with Clint.
Fuck.
I stare at the message until my eyes begin to blur. A knock at my door startles me and I look up. “Come in,” I say, totally focused on this new fire I need to douse.
The door opens and Clint stands in my doorway, totally imposing with his arms crossed and a defiant refusal to look at me.
“I’ve got some family coming into town,” he says, matter-of-factly, and I nod, wondering what this has to do with me. I expected today to be awkward, but he’s distant and aloof. Which is fine with me. That’s less messy. After the sudden break I’d had last night with the weight of all the lies and secrets stressing me out, I’m not surprised he’s avoiding me like the plague. Hell, I’d avoid me. I probably look totally unhinged.
Maybe I am.
Still, Clint is quiet as if I should be saying something.
“Are you asking me to keep up the lie?” I ask, feeling weary. This would be funny if I weren’t so very tired of all of it. I want to just come clean now, I want to unburden my soul to everyone and to hell with them and their judgments. I ran away once. I lived through Dillon. I can live through anything.
“Who are you running from?” he asks, and I shake my head. I’m only barely able to think of his name now. In the weeks that have followed, every day that has passed is another victory. He has no hold over me. I’m even to a point now where he doesn’t dominate my every waking moment.
I didn’t jerk awake this morning feeling like he was coming home drunk and angry again.
And I’m not about to open up about him, or let him rule my life whether in my head or outside of it. So I switch back to the conversation at hand.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“What would you like to do?” he asks, and I struggle with the very real fear coursing through me.
But it’s time to come clean. About some things, at least. “I can’t fake it. Katie won’t be fooled.”
His whole posture changes from aloof to intense. It’s a subtle shift, but the whole mood of the room changes.
“How did you know…?” he asks, studying me carefully.
“Oh, come on, Clint. Do you really not remember?” I ask, standing up to him. He looks me up and down, and again I see that flash, that look in his eyes like he’s trying to place me. “You feel like you’ve known me forever because you have,” I say and he falters back a step.
There’s confusion in his handsome face, and I feel bad for him. “Babs remembered me. But she promised not to out me, and she still believes we’re really together, but Katie will be pissed when she finds out.”
“What…?” I know he’s struggling.
And I’m tired of the lie. “Maybe if you called me Sara?” I ask, wondering if that’ll jog his memory.
And there it is, the flash of recognition in his eyes as he suddenly sees me for who I am; the little sister’s friend who used to follow him around like a puppy dog. I was so damn in love with him forever ago. He’s the reason I came back to Texas. Because after Dillon kicked the shit out of me last time, I’d ran straight to Clint.
Because I know him. Because I trust him. Because it’s not the first time he’s saved me. But it’s not love I see in his eyes now. It’s not trust or joy that I’m here.
No, he’s furious.
“May is my middle name,” I say, needing to defend myself. I know it looks bad, but it’s not as evil as his expression seems to be making it out to be. I didn’t set out to just deceive him. I wanted to protect myself. I thought he’d recognize me. But I wasn’t sure I was safe. Dillon promised he’d always follow me, and that he’d find me. That I’d never escape him.
I’m sure it was all just to scare me. He wanted to use threats to keep me under his thumb. And it worked for a long time. But now, on the outside and a hell of a lot less scared, I see his bullshit for what it was; propaganda to keep me tied to him and terrified.
But now, with Clint eyeing me like I’m a lair, like I’m something he’d tracked in on his shoe, I feel my heart sink in my chest.
“Please don’t hate me,” I whisper, feeling so broken as he stands in the doorway of the room he’d so kindly given me when I needed it most. I knew it would come to this, but I’d wanted to live the lie a little longer.
I wanted to feel loved for just a little while longer.
I’m just a liar, a user, a human piece of garbage, just like Dillon had told me so many times before. He was right about everything. Maybe I would be better off dead. Maybe I am just a waste of oxygen.