chapter 19
HALLIE
5 Years Earlier
London
As soon as I say the words, I want to take them back. I’m not sure he’s even heard anything I’ve said, up to that point, but I know the word father caught his attention, because his face fills with rage.
“Chris…I didn’t mean to say…”
“Yes, you did.”
“I just…I’m scared for you. That’s all.”
“Scared for me? That’s a load of bullshit, Hals. You think…you think that I’m like my father, huh? Like this?”
He picks up the glass tumbler from beside the bed and throws it against the wall. The shreds of glass shatter and spill onto the carpet. I shrink back into a corner and cover my face. This is how the world ends.
At least, this is how my world ends.
“Now you’re afraid of me? You’re afraid I’m going to hurt you? Like that guy did? Back when you were in high school?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve heard you talking on the phone. To Ben. I bet there are a lot of things that you shared with Ben. A lot of things.”
There’s a nasty little undertone in his voice and I shake my head.
“That’s unfair.”
“Yeah. A lot of things in life are unfair. The fact that my girlfriend of almost two years, the one who supposedly loves me to the ends of the earth and back again, tells some random guy everything about her life—that’s unfair. Damn it.” He holds the edge of the counter with his hand and I can see the barely concealed rage starting to shake his body. “I’m willing to accept that because you’ve managed to infiltrate every part of me. You’re stuck so far inside my head that it makes me crazy to think about you and Ben, with your hands all over each other. That’s it, right? You’re leaving me because you’ve had your fill and you’re going to run off and be with him now.”
He’s acting like a lunatic. I don’t even know what he’s saying. He takes a step closer to me and takes my chin in his hand. He reeks of whiskey and I can practically see the smoke coming off his jacket, and I don’t want him to touch me. For the first time since I met him, all I can think about is how to get his hands off me.
“You’re scaring me, Chris.”
“If you’re so afraid, why don’t you just leave?”
He places his sticky lips near mine. I push him away.
“Because this isn’t you. The drinking and the late nights and the partying and the movie premieres and taking a Valium every two hours just to get through the day. I know you. The real you…he doesn’t scare me. The fact that the real you might be lost forever…that’s what scares me.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. This is me. And if you don’t like it, then leave.” He lets out a vicious little laugh and moves away from me. “Run away, Hallie. It’s what you’re good at.”
“Have another drink, Chris. It’s what you’re good at.”
“I think I will.”
He walks over to the minibar and takes a small bottle of whiskey and drains it before picking up another, then another.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
It’s another second before I realize that I’ve said the words aloud. I grab my purse and the suitcase that I packed earlier that night, which is sitting neatly in the corner of the suite, and move them closer to the door.
“I think it’s time for me to get my own life. Isn’t that what you said? That I have to find another reason to live outside of you?”
I sound bitter and angry, but I can’t keep either of those things out of my voice, because I think that maybe he was right, that maybe I need to be someone besides Chris Jensen’s hanger-on.
The inevitable tears are starting to bubble in my throat, but I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing them.
He glances down at the bottle and looks back up at me. “Come on. You know I didn’t mean it. I just had one too many drinks, you know, with the movie finishing and going back home and I guess maybe I was a little bit drunker than I thought.”
He laughs nervously, and I see a flicker of the Chris that I fell in love with. He’s taking steps towards me, his face filled with contrition. It weakens my resolve, but I can’t let it, so I take another step towards the door, the suitcase in my hand.
“You did mean it. And I think I did, too.”
“I’m sorry. I love you, Hals.”
He does still love me. I can see it in his eyes and I can feel it in the tender touch of his fingers in my hair. I’m not sure if it’s good enough. I’m not sure if it will ever be good enough.
I have two choices. He still loves me. I still love him. I can stay, and I can try to fix this. I can try to fix him. I can try to fix me.
In an instant, I see our life spread out before me. This scene will play over and over, in another hotel suite in another city, after another night at the club. We’ll keep repeating these words until there’s nothing left but anger and regret.
But there’s another option. I can run away, as he put it. I can leave this hotel room and try to put together some semblance of a life without him.
The bitch of it is that I still love him. I will always be hopelessly, crazy in love with him.
I look deeply into his eyes, which are already starting to haze over with the extra infusion of alcohol. It makes the decision easier, but no less painful.
“Goodbye, Chris. I really hope that you manage to find whatever it is that you’re looking for. Because I’m not it.”
“Hallie, stop. Stop.”
His face crumples and I almost break down right there and then. But I’m already turning away. I can’t let this drag out any longer. I can’t stay here.
“Hals, you still love me. I know you do. You can’t just throw this away. Please. Don’t do this. You know you’re going to regret this in the morning. I’ll even go get those bagels from that place in Notting Hill. We’ll call it apology lox. We’re going back to the States tomorrow and you can go dancing with Sam and everything will be fine.”
I turn back to him and force myself to meet his eyes. I pray that he’s drunk enough to believe the lie that I’m about to tell.
“I don’t love you.”
It costs me more than I can bear to say it.
“What?”
It’s easier to say it this time, because he’s already turned away from me. I don’t have to lie with my face, only my words.
“I don’t love you.”
His body shakes slightly. It would be imperceptible to almost anyone else, but I’ve spent the past two years of my life memorizing every movement of his muscles. He’s hurting, and every impulse that I have is telling me to throw myself into his arms and try to forget that this whole night even happened. There’s a good chance he won’t remember anyway. I’m halfway across the room when he turns back to me, his face contorted into a rueful little grin.
“What a sick little game you’ve been playing, Hallie.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“Save it. I never want to see you again. Don’t call. Don’t write.”
“Chris.”
“Don’t say my name. Because I can promise you that in a few days, I won’t remember yours. I’m planning to forget that you ever existed.”
I pick up my suitcase and force my legs, which have turned into stone, to move.
“Take care of yourself. Please.”
With that, I shut the door between us.
I manage to make it to the elevator before I shatter.