Chapter Thirty

H ours later, I wake with a slight hangover, my head thumping as I realize the rumble of my cell phone on my nightstand is what woke me. The silver lining is that I can't remember a single dream I had in the last few hours. It's when I see the name flashing on the screen that my celebration is cut short.

"Hey."

"You were sleeping? You promised you would call when you got there."

"I'm so sorry."

"You should be." Guilt nags at me when I hear the plea in his voice, "Cecelia, please come home."

"Collin, I can't. I'm sorry. But I can't." I lift from my bed, disoriented, and decide I'm far too sober for this conversation.

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't. I won't deceive either of us anymore." Grabbing the bottle and my tumbler, I take the stairs two at a time, opting for a little hair of the dog over ice. I have no issue with rock bottom. I'm comfortable here. On the rocks might be the safest place for me for the moment, much safer than walking around lying recklessly to those I love.

But the reality I've thrust myself into is hell on Earth. It was so much easier to lie.

"Tell me why this is happening," he urges me gently. "Just come home so I can try to understand. You just left."

"I gave you an explanation." I press my tumbler into the fridge door, adding some ice and pour a generous helping of whiskey. "Collin, I won't ever come home."

"I don't believe you. This is some . . . mental break, some . . . episode."

"You're not wrong, but it's not a case of cold feet. I wish it were."

"You aren't thinking clearly. What we had was real. No one is that good of an actress."

"I wasn't acting. I was...masking. I wanted it to work. A lot of the time, I believed it was." I take a healthy sip of the whiskey and glance at the clock as it flips just past midnight, bringing an end to my first day in purgatory.

"So what if you were promiscuous when you were young. I'm no saint. I don't give a damn if you slept with half that town."

"Are you wondering if I was faithful?" I swallow, as a guilty tear sneaks out of me.

"You told me you were."

"And you believe me?"

"Yes."

"But you won't for long. You'll wonder if I was honest about that too, and then you'll resent me for it."

"I won't. If you'd just come home—"

"Stop. This is beneath you, Collin. I do love you. I always will. I'm so grateful to have been loved by you."

"So, you just decide it's over and I'm supposed to accept it? Are you purposefully trying to destroy me?"

"I know how cruel this seems, but I want you to know the truth of what I've been battling for years. The guilt I constantly feel, knowing what I'm doing is wrong. Please trust me when I say next to Christy, you're the closest person in the world to me. But you don't know me fully, and if you want honesty, neither does she."

"Jesus, Cecelia, I don't understand," his voice cracks and I feel it, the sharp stab of pain that I'm causing, again I fill up my tumbler. The reality of losing him is taking a toll.

"Collin, I've come to realize I'm broken that way. I lived too much. I experienced too much when I was too young. It was intense, and it made me...think differently, crave life differently. That's the most I can explain it. I'm capable of monogamy. I've been faithful to you physically. It's just..."

"You think I wouldn't understand. You don't want to tell me what you want because you don't think I can give it to you?"

"I know you wouldn't want to know this side of me. And I don't want you to see it. That's not who you fell for."

"Stop telling me what I know about you!"

His anger is warranted, and so I let him have it. I put this train in motion and I need to see it through. He gives me a minute of silence before he speaks up.

"So, are you with them now?"

"No." I hate that's his conclusion. "Not at all. That's not what this is. I'm not sure I'll see him."

"Him? Just one? I'm so confused."

"I was upset last night, and maybe I explained myself horribly." I wince, knowing no amount of whiskey will ever help this confession. "I told you when I was younger, I was in a polyamorous relationship for a few short months."

"Yes."

"But my feelings ran deep, Collin, really deep for both men, and after it ended, I fell in love with another, and he's the one who I haven't let go of. But full disclosure, I still have lingering feelings for them all."

"Is this..." I can physically feel the gap splintering further between us, "is this what your dreams are about?"

"Yes."

"Jesus, Cecelia."

"It was one year, one year of my life, but it changed me. And I haven't been able to fully move on since because of how that time with them altered me and how it ended. And that's the reason I've never been able to give you what you need, what you fully deserve."

"I'm no less guilty of having lingering affection, feelings for the women in my past. I've had moments, here and there. It's all part of it."

"It's more than that, Collin. The unreasonable part of me still exists in a time I can't erase or can never go back to. Because no matter how hard I try to forget it, it won't let me." I take another sip, and then another, terrified of admitting more of the truth. "I've been hiding things from you."

"Like what?"

I grapple with the words and know the impact they'll have.

"I deserve the truth," he demands.

"You do." I close my eyes and bring the glass to my lips, taking a long drink and bracing myself. "Sometimes, after we have sex, I fantasize about them while you're in the shower."

Over the line, I hear a pained breath leave him, and know I've just butchered his pride.

"Do you masturbate thinking about them after fucking me?!"

I confirm with my silence. It's cruel, but necessary, though I'm not about to drill it into his head. I have to get through to him. I don't want to draw this out. And I don't want to give him hope where there is none.

"Bloody hell, Cecelia, you thought about them while we were in our bed?!"

Him . But I don't correct him. I want his anger. I deserve it. Because my admission isn't fabricated. It's the absolute truth.

The more I reveal to him, put words to years of thinking it, the more I realize I'm doing the right thing. I was about to marry into my own lie.

"Collin, my sexual depravity aside, I can't love you the way you deserve."

"Whatever you think you lack, it's in your head. You make me happy."

"And at times you made me happy too, you know you did, but I can't marry you. I've been lying in different degrees since we met. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Collin. I already miss you. I'm already regretting this, but this is the truth, and I'm so tired of fighting it."

"I'm not a fucking prude, Cecelia. I'll give you any fantasy you want."

"It's not just about sex, Collin. My heart was never in the right place, just..."

I palm my face, my lips shaking, my voice anguished as I ruin a relationship with a man who's done nothing short of worship me.

"I'm still in love with the memory of another man and have been since I was twenty. It's clear now, I'll never stop wanting him, and I've failed at every attempt to hate him. I had hoped so much to move on—and with you—I tried, I tried so hard, but I failed. I failed us both."

"And you don't know if you'll see him? What future can you have with a memory?"

"One that's not deceptive to you . One that doesn't hurt you . I don't care about my happiness anymore so much, but I refuse to ruin yours. I've been selfish enough in my thinking. Find a woman who would move heaven and earth to be good to you. Find her, and one day, maybe you can forgive me. One day, maybe you'll say you'll try to forgive me."

"You've ruined my life."

"No, walking down that aisle and being emotionally unfaithful would have ruined your life."

"You're not giving me a chance to fight!"

"Because I'm certain, Collin, I'm certain. Please hear me. It's over."

As expected, he hangs up, and I hang my head, setting my tears free. My fate is sealed. There's no back, and there's no forward. I've been physically monogamous for years, just not emotionally faithful to the men I've dated. In one way or another, they all failed in silent comparison. I'm still strung out on the highs of my past because I never closed the door, fully let myself grieve, which left me in a constant state of limbo.

At this point, I would rather be alone than a liar.

I came back to declare war on my memories, to draw my lines, and I'm already disgusted with just how relieved I am by reclaiming, owning my dark side.

Maybe my scales are harder to see than Roman's were, but we've got far more in common than I initially thought. I'm more than capable of being the villain.

Villain.

I guess it takes one to love and loathe one.

And I've become a convincing one at that.

And in Collin's story, I will be.

Furious with the easy comparison, I scroll through my phone and press send. He answers on the second ring.

"You know, you're about four years too late for a booty call."

"Hey, Ryan, sorry, I know it's late."

"What's going on? Neither you nor Collin have been answering my calls. And thanks to you both for not bothering to show up for work today, it was a shitshow. I had to push meetings."

"I'm sorry, something came up. I'll explain later."

A brief silence.

"Should I be worried?"

"Ryan, I need your help."

"Name it."

"How soon can you get here?"

"Where is here?"

"I'm in Triple Falls."

"You're finally going to sell?"

"His business, his house. I want nothing more to do with him. It's past time."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Is the last offer still on the table from a few months ago?"

"I'll check. If so, I'll rearrange some meetings. I can be there by noon tomorrow."

"See you then."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

"I'm on my way."

"Thanks, Ryan."

Tossing the phone on the counter, I pour another two fingers in the tumbler.

"To you, Sir." I lift my glass before tossing back my dinner.