I just wanted to be with him.
And the fact that he could not have cared less hurt like a bitch.
I don’t do what people expect. A tinge of bitterness leaked into my mind and lashed out. What else do you expect from a pathological liar? it taunted.
Even though a small part of me—the part that loved him unconditionally—felt compelled to wage an argument on his behalf, I couldn’t. Watching him stand there like a shell of himself and tell me I wasn’t important enough to change the rules for, I felt like I had witnessed his worst lie yet. The saddest part of it all: I still wasn’t sure whether he was lying to himself or purposely lying to me.
Had I just been a fun challenge to him the entire time?
Were our moments of deep intimacy just a façade to snare me in his web of deceit?
My gut instinct told me that what we’d shared couldn’t have been faked, but I honestly didn’t know anymore. A hidden, insecure part of me feared that Reed had gotten me to do the one thing I’d spent the majority of my columns trying to get my readers to avoid—giving your trust to someone who was unworthy.
Hell, this week’s column had even revolved around it.
Sex Says: Trust actions, not words. If someone deserves your trust, you will see it in everything they do—not the lip service they pay.
Trust is like paper; once it’s crumpled, it can’t go back to the way it was. It’s forever changed—forever imperfect.
Had Reed broken my trust? I honestly didn’t know.
I knew I hadn’t heard from him since I’d walked out of his apartment while he appeared to be in the process of self-destructing.
Or had he just been done with me?
I knew with certainty that I hadn’t had any expectations regarding what our relationship was and what it wasn’t. I hadn’t been clingy or pushy when it came to him or us. I had been content with just letting things evolve naturally because neither Reed nor I were traditional kind of people when it came to relationships. We were both very much on the same page on all things dating and relationships and commitment.
Well, at least, I’d thought we had been.
Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Now, obviously, I was questioning everything when it came to him.
“I think you should put on some more sunscreen, Lola,” Annie said from her prone position on the beach chair beside mine.
The Santa Cruz sun was hot and persistent, damn near blinding anyone without sunglasses with its strong rays, and even though my sister may have been right, I still groaned out loud over her mothering.
“Thanks, Mom,” I retorted. “But I’m good right now. I just put on a fresh coat about an hour ago.”
My gaze moved out toward the ocean where Brian played Frisbee with Henry and my father, and my mother was entertaining Emma and Lucy with her expertise in the art of sand castles.
They were all laughing and smiling and basking in the happiness that was spending time together as a family.
I, on the other hand, felt like curling up into the fetal position and going into a temporary coma. The way things had gone down with Reed had soured my mood, and overwhelming sadness hung heavy over my heart like the San Francisco fog.
This should have been an enjoyable trip. I shouldn’t have had a head full of bad thoughts and a heart that felt like it had been hacked with a cleaver. I should’ve been enjoying time with my family, not withdrawing into a pit of gloom.
It pissed me off, and that anger was probably the sole reason I had been able to get out of bed and make my way to the beach this morning.
Fuck Reed Luca and his clusterfuck of contradiction.
I knew that Reed and I had never declared I love you, but I couldn’t help that I very much did love him. I had one-hundred-percent fallen in love with him, and now, I felt like that would end up biting me in the ass. Several days ago, I might’ve left his apartment to avoid getting clobbered by his indifference, but the stabbing pain in my chest said I had already been clobbered.
“What’s your deal today?” Annie asked and flipped the brim of her ridiculous beach hat up to look over at me.
“Nothing.” I met her eyes and shrugged. A fucking shrug. Jesus. It was like Reed had rubbed off on me, and I was acting like an idiot too.
She pointed an accusing finger in my direction. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
“I am not.”
“Tell me again why Reed didn’t end up coming with us this weekend,” she fired, and like the gunshot at the start of a race, I knew Annie’s annoying inquisition had just begun.
Behind the safety net of my sunglasses, I rolled my eyes. “He had plans.”
“Oh, that’s right, you mentioned that, but you never really said what his plans were.”