Black Ties and White Lies(105)



“Thank you,” I answer, trying not to let my words come out too harsh. I’m so angry at him for lying to me, for keeping so many secrets. But he’s also become my best friend, my safe place, and I miss him. I miss talking to him, cuddling with him, doing the most mundane things with him, and I hate him for spinning lies to get us to this point in the first place.

“There’s also a few different pastries in the bag. I got you all of your favorites. And if none of these sound good then I can have Ezra stop and grab you something else before taking me to the airport.”

I pause opening the bag, looking up at him in confusion. “You’re leaving?”

He scratches his chin, pinning me with his indigo stare. “Yeah. A last minute thing came up. I’m having to fly to San Jose for three days. I didn’t figure you’d want to make the trip.”

“I’m your assistant. You pay me to go to these things with you.” I turn to step back into the room, but he grabs me, turning me to face him.

He manages to still keep space between us as he looks down at me unsure. “I’m not talking to my assistant right now,” he begins.

“I am your assistant,” I correct, looking down to the spot he’s touching me.

He waits until I look back up at him to speak. “Then you’re fired. Because right now I’m talking to the woman I love, not the one who works for me.”

My heart flip-flops dramatically in my chest. Why does it seem like he always says all the right things to make me melt into a puddle at his feet? It’s like he knows exactly what to say to remind me that I love him. I just don’t know if that’s all part of his act or if it’s genuine. My head is all sorts of fucked up after last night. I don’t know who—or what—to believe. And it’s left me reeling ever since.

“Margo,” he pleads, gently running his fingertip over my cheek. “Please, just listen to me for a moment, okay?”

I nod, having to swallow back emotion. All of a sudden, I can feel tears pricking at my eyes and there’s a lump in my throat. It’s the tone of his voice. It matches mine—filled with sadness and remorse. It has me seconds away from telling him I believe him, or at least I don’t care if it was fake to start with. As long as it’s real now, that’s all I need. I hold myself back from saying any of that because the truth of it is, I need to be confident it’s real now before I promise him anything. And I’m just not there yet. It’s why I couldn’t continue to wear his grandmother’s ring. It doesn’t feel right to wear something with so much sentiment when things between us has gone so wrong.

“I’m going to go on this trip. Alone. I know you need space to think through everything I told you last night, and I want to give you that.”

“This is your house, Beck,” I interject. “I can go somewhere else for space. You don’t have to leave because of me.”

“I hope you think of this as our home, because that’s what it is to me. Well truthfully, I think of you as my home. I meant every word I told you last night, Margo. If you think long and hard about it all, I think you’ll know I didn’t utter a single lie last night. But I need to go on this trip. I hope—I fucking pray—that you’ll be waiting for me when I get back. And that you’ll be ready to put that ring on your finger—where it belongs for the rest of our lives.”

“I’m not going anywhere for now,” I say softly. My voice sounds weak but I can’t seem to care. Even if everything he told me was a lie to begin with, the look in his eyes right now isn’t one I believe is fake. The hurt and longing isn’t something someone could pretend. “I just have to wrap my head around everything you said. I just don’t get—”

“Take the time you need, baby. I’m going to give you three days. But please, when I get back, be mine again. Be confident in how I feel about you—in what we’ve created.” He wraps me in his arms, pulling me into his chest. I breathe in his smell, while it seems like he does the same with his face pressed to my hair. Surely his words are true. This feels too right for it all to be based off some personal vendetta he has against his brother. “I know I’ve lied to you, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. But it still brought us together. I won’t forgive myself for it, but I can’t regret it either. I’ll never regret anything that brought you to me.”

Tears stream down my cheeks all over again. I wrap my arms around him, awkwardly trying to bring him closer while still holding my coffee and food. “It’s just a lot to think about. Everything about us is a lie.”

He jerks his body away from mine, bringing our foreheads close together. “Nothing about us is a lie,” he demands, a commanding tone to his voice. He presses his palm to my heart. “You know deep in here that nothing we feel is a lie.” He then taps my temple. “We just have to get this to realize that, too.”

I look down at the ground sadly. If I look into his eyes any longer, I’ll beg him to stay. As much as I want that to happen, he’s right. We need a little bit of space. I don’t want to rush into anything. I need to feel confident in Beck’s version of the story instead of Carter’s before anything else happens.

“Okay,” I say into his chest. I let my arms fall to my sides as I break the contact, needing to put space between us before I cling to him and never let go.

Kat Singleton's Books