Page 63 of Keep Vegas

“YES. School. Class! Here it is. I didn’t graduate from high school when you did. I was either drunk, stoned, or angry in my youth. I blew it all off. And I don’t have a college degree yet. I don’t have anything you thought of me. I never should have been in Paris. I scammed my way there. Hell, I didn’t even go to class when we were in France. I had a day job so I could at least pick up a beer tab every once in a while. I’m not classy or sophisticated. I don’t have a huge family or home. I hustled shit my whole life and now I’m paying the price. The true price of blowing off everything. I never should have tried to be something I’m not. I fucking lied. I’m still lying. I don’t even live in LA. You deserve better than a fucking bad girl who lied about everything. Now please help me find my phone so I can get out of here and try to salvage the pathetic life I’m trying to build.”

He looks dumbstruck. His beautiful, chiseled face is shattered and hurt. This is all as it should be. It’s the only ending I deserve. And I finally get to see the destroyed face I ran from years ago. I hid from the pain I caused, but I’m in it, and I see it. And it’s so much worse than I thought it could be.

His voice is steady but low, “I thought we were going to have a life together.”

Oh God, how that sounds so simple and perfect. His face will be etched on my soul. The pain is deeper this time. Tears stream down my face, and I see Tony shut his eyes and then pinch away tears of his own.

“You don’t want my life.” I see my phone under the couch. I dive for it. And he tries to stop me.

I yell again to try to get out of here without him. “Don’t. Don’t. I’m a fucking fraud. Nothing about me is what you think.”

“What if I think you’re smart and funny and kind and challenging, adventurous, and loving. Are those things a lie?”

“Don’t be nice to me. Oh, Jesus. YES. All of it is a lie,” I blurt out.

“Ok, now you’re lying. You can’t tell me those things aren’t you.”

Then he looks around at the suite and back to me as I tuck my hair up into a top knot. I gather my things and try to maintain some semblance of grace as I destroy everything I ever wanted.

“Mak, before you go, I need to know. Did you lie to me for my money like the rest of them?” And there it is. He’ll never believe me about anything since I built our relationship on a foundation of cracked Lego.

I reach out to his forearm, and he doesn’t recoil. There’s one truth in my soul. “No. That’s one of the two things I didn’t lie about.”

“And the other?”

I suck in a huge breath and hold my stomach. “The way I feel about you.”

He steps back. “Says the liar.” His voice is steely, and I let the cold wash over me because I deserve it. I’ve finally pushed him far enough away that he sees reality.

I nod. There’s no way to fix this.

“I have to go.”

“So you’ve said.”

I walk out. Neither of us says a word. I hold it together until I jump in a cab. And then I implode. The choice to tell him the truth was always mine, and I played a stupid, selfish game. But even if I had told him I was broke, wild, uneducated, living with my parents, barely employed, and scammed my way to France, I wonder what he would have done. And that wonder will always live as a fucking flesh-eating bacterium on my soul.

I text him one more time as I’m racing for my plane, hoping to God I make it on time.

MAK: Deleting and blocking your number. Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again after this. But I’m sorry, and I do love you.

I want him to be able to think and say anything he wants. But I know anything I say to myself will be worse, so I’ll leave it at this.

MAK: And you should know you and I were never the lie. Just the rest of my life was.

End of Part Two

part three

vive le carrousel à bagages

tony

“FUCK.” I slam another shot. She fucking walked out on me. “A lot.” I’m muttering. She lied a lot and then left.

Law gestures for another one, and I take it directly from the bartender. I shoot it while Law slaps my back.

“Now, are we in a get laid to forget situation or are we regrouping? Also, maybe share what the fuck is happening. And why you’re at a bar in Phoenix in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Just curious, man. Good to see you and all, but what the fuck?”