The Lies That Define Us Part 30

"Is Ari coming?" I heard Remy, Liam's mom, ask.

"No," Liam replied. His tone was biting, like he was on edge.

"Oh," she replied. "Is she still sick."

"Yeah," he replied, "she's really sick."

Clutching my pillow, I began to cry some more, and I really did feel sick-if your heart can be sick, that is.

Eventually, they all left and the room was silent.

I'd never felt more alone than I did right then.

I eventually turned the TV on and found the channel broadcasting the compet.i.tion. Not much of what they said made sense to me, but I hoped I'd get a glimpse of Liam.

At that moment the camera was panned in on the commentators where they sat beneath a tent, and I couldn't see anything else.

I stayed riveted to the screen, though, waiting.

When the camera finally panned to the beach, I saw Liam in his wetsuit paddling out. My heart lurched and tears filled my eyes.

Yesterday morning had been one of, if not the best, moments of my life and then I'd had to go and ruin it.

He'd never forgive me.

I knew that.

To him, I was no better than Kennedy.

But with Blaise out there, it's what I'd had to do to keep him safe.

His life was more important than our happiness. He'd probably never know that, but I would, and it made all the difference.

I sat back in the bed, fluffing the pillows and getting comfortable.

The commentators went over the stats of each surfer, and even though I had no idea what the numbers meant, pride filled my chest when Liam's face appeared on the screen.

When they'd finished giving the stats on the surfers, the camera panned back out on the ocean and the five guys bobbing in the water.

I clutched a pillow to my chest, and a tear leaked from the corner of my eye when the camera zoomed in on the profile of Liam's face.

He looked so angry and hurt, but there was a determination set in his jaw and I hoped that meant he was focused on the waves ahead of him. I'd never forgive myself if he was so lost in his thoughts about us that it threw him from the compet.i.tion. I knew how important surfing was to him.

The first heat ended thirty minutes later, knocking out two of the guys and leaving Liam, Wyatt Perry, and Sam Hanson.

The next heat would determine the final two, and I crossed my fingers that Liam was in it. I wanted, more than anything, to see him succeed.

I sat, riveted to the screen, cheering on every time Liam caught a wave. In my opinion, he had more style than the other two guys. It looked like they were just riding the waves, but Liam was living it.

When the second heat ended, I waited with bated breath for the results.

Wyatt Perry's name was called out first and then the next few seconds felt like the longest of my life.

But then, it was Liam's name they called out, and I lost it. I screamed so loud that someone in a neighboring room probably thought I was being murdered. I pumped my fists in the air and shouted, "Go, Liam!" even though he wasn't there to hear me.

I hoped, somehow, that he knew I was cheering for him.

The next heat was the longest thirty minutes of my life, and when Liam wiped out on his last wave I cried out in frustration. Wyatt had wiped out once too, though, so it still put them on even ground. Besides, to me, it looked like Liam had done more complicated tricks. But I didn't know much, or anything at all, about surfing, so Liam's fate was in the judges' hands.

I sat at the edge of the bed, holding my breath while I waited for the results.

I didn't think I'd ever been more nervous.

"Liam," I begged. "Please say Liam's name."

The camera panned to the two men, both standing in their wetsuits, surfboards clasped under their arms, and wet hair hanging in their eyes.

"Liam," I pleaded again. "Say Liam's name."

I closed my eyes then, unable to look at his nervous face one more second.

Just as I closed my eyes, I heard, "First place... Wyatt Perry!"

"f.u.c.k," I cried, my eyes flying open.

On the screen Liam nodded forlornly and then did that weird guy handshake with Wyatt. At least he was being a good sport and not throwing a tantrum-not like I'd expected that or anything.

The camera lingered on the guys for a few more seconds and then panned back to the commentators.

"Well, there you have it, folks. Wyatt Perry is still the reigning champion. We'll be speaking to both surfers after this break."

The screen cut to a commercial, and I immediately turned the TV off. I'd seen what I wanted, and now I couldn't bear to watch any more.

I busied myself by taking a shower and packing my bags for our morning flight back home.

Hours pa.s.sed, and it was after midnight when the door to the hotel room finally opened.

From what I could hear, it was only one person and not the whole group of them.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and cracked the door open.

I found Liam standing in the small kitchen, pulling a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

"You did good," I whispered.

He turned around and lifted the bottle of water to his lips. He took a sip and wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. All the while his icy-blue eyes glared at me like I was worse than the sc.u.m on the bottom of his shoe.

s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the cap back on the bottle of water he headed to his room, slamming the door closed behind him.

His message was final.

Clear.

He was done with me, and he'd closed me out of his life.

Liam and me? We were no more.

Liam.

After what had to be the awkward-est f.u.c.king plane and car ride ever, we finally arrived back at my house.

I hadn't spoken one word to Ari the whole way home.

The only thing she'd said to me was, "I'm sorry."

I didn't believe her.

Her actions were stupid, and it p.i.s.sed me off. After what she told me, she was shutting me out? All I wanted to do was help her. Protect her. Love her. Save her. And she wouldn't let me do anything.

I mean, the girl was f.u.c.king kidnapped and this guy must've been a complete psycho, so you'd think she'd want my help. But instead, she wanted to end things.

And if that's what she wanted, that's what she was going to get.

I parked my Jeep in the garage and hopped out. I grabbed my bags from the back and left her to get hers. An a.s.shole move? Yes. But the worst was yet to come.

I headed inside, and Ari trailed behind me. When we reached the foyer she gasped in surprise when she saw all of her bags neatly packed and waiting by the front door.

"Liam?" Her voice was soft and full of hurt. It f.u.c.king pained me, but I had to do what I had to do. She wanted to end it, and I needed a clean break.

I started up the stairs but stopped on the third stair and turned around to face her. I towered above her from my perch; she looked so incredibly small standing beside her bags.

"I've already arranged for you to stay with Rebecca. She'll be here to pick you up any minute."

She inhaled a shaky breath. I watched the tears pool in her eyes. "So that's it then? You're kicking me out?"

I shook my head roughly, snorting. "Don't try to make this out to be my fault. I'm not the bad guy here. This is you, all you."

She wrapped her arms around her body like she was trying to hold herself together.

I wished she knew that I was dying inside.

I'd thought I'd known what it was like to be hurt when Kennedy cheated on me and my best friend betrayed me, but standing there, staring at Ari and the tears threatening to escape her lids, was a thousand times worse. It was like someone had shoved a knife in my chest and twisted it.

"You knew this would have to happen," I told her, surprised by how steady my voice sounded even though I was breaking on the inside.

She nodded and sniffled. "Yeah, I was going to leave anyway."

I didn't know what to say then. I'll miss you, was too personal. Stay safe, sounded too ominous. And, I love you. I will always love you, was the truth, but I couldn't say it.

Clearing my throat, I stole one last glance at her standing in the foyer. I took in her long legs accentuated by the pair of white shorts she wore, her smooth stomach exposed in her pink, lace-looking top, and her dark hair hanging wild around her shoulders.

Lastly, I looked into her eyes, and I saw the same turmoil in hers that I felt on the inside. My eyes, though, only reflected anger back at her. I was good at concealing my emotions-too good, sometimes.

Without saying goodbye, I turned and walked the rest of the way upstairs, leaving behind the last part of my heart in her hands.

Hours later, when I emerged from my room, she was gone.

Of course she was, but it still stung.

I hadn't realized how much I missed hearing her move through the house, or seeing her flip-flops lying on the floor-the little things.

I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and collapsed on the couch. I didn't turn the TV on or any music. I couldn't bear to hear any of it. Besides, no noise could drown out the raucous in my head.

Before Ari, I was by myself most of the time. It never bothered me. Right then, though, it was the worst f.u.c.king feeling in the world.

She'd forever changed me, and there was no going back.

I'd wished she was there.

But it was too late.

It had to be done.

Before I knew it, a whole week had pa.s.sed.

A whole f.u.c.king week without Ari.

It was the worst seven days of my life, and to know that I'd probably never see her again killed me.

I knew it was my own fault-both of ours-but I couldn't do anything to change it. She'd made her decision, and I had made mine.

I paddled out on the water, and not even of the prospect of excellent waves could cheer me up.

"Dude," Ollie groaned, "you need to go talk to her. Talia says she's as miserable and mopey as you."

"You don't know what happened," I growled at him.

He rolled his eyes and tied his long hair back in a bun so it was out of his way. "Yeah, because neither one of you idiots will tell anyone why. If you're both going to be so stupid, you might as well be miserable."