39. Mary
Chapter 39
Mary
My heart stops.
No.
My fingers tremble as they close around the smooth material. I hold it up to the light.
Holy shit.
It’s the same fucking mask. The one Chris wore that night. The night that’s been seared into my memory, every detail etched into my brain.
It can’t be.
Connor isn’t Chris. He can’t be. We fought about this, argued… I almost lost him because of my obsession with a man who didn’t want me.
And yet, here it is. The dark blue masquerade mask.
Is this some kind of sick joke? Why? Why would the mask be here?
I rummage through the drawer, my heart pounding, and my hand closes around a phone. It’s on, the screen glowing, but locked with a passcode. Fuck.
This can’t be happening. There has to be a logical explanation for why Connor has the same mask Chris wore that night. Maybe it’s a popular style, and they both just happen to have the same one. Yeah, that’s it. Lots of people probably bought that mask for that party. It’s just a coincidence.
And the phone…
No.
No.
He would have told me. He wouldn’t let me pour my heart out about another man, knowing it was him all along. Connor wouldn’t do that to me.
Unless… unless he didn’t want me to know. Maybe he regretted that night, regretted me, and didn’t want to face the truth. Maybe he was too much of a coward to admit that he fucked me and then left me in that hotel room without so much as a goodbye.
No. Stop it. You’re being ridiculous. Connor loves you. He asked you to marry him, for Christ’s sake!
He wouldn’t do that if he were just using you for sex. Period. This is all just some big misunderstanding. There has to be another explanation.
But what if there isn’t? Is everything we have built on a fucking lie ?
My heart clenches painfully at the thought. I can’t breathe. Oh my god. This can’t be happening. Not like this. Not after…
I stumble to my own phone, fingers shaking as I type out a message to Chris’ number.
Mary: hello
I hit send and stare at the other phone. Don’t. Please, please, please d—
The screen lights up with a new message. I tap on it, but it won’t show me the name.
It could be random, right? A coincidence.
I type out another message, my hands trembling so badly I can barely hit the keys.
Mary: test
I press send and wait, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. The phone in my hand vibrates, lighting up with another message.
A desperate laugh bubbles up from my throat, tears blurring my vision. This can’t be real. It can’t be.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I tap on Chris’ number, calling it.
No. Fucking. Way.
Tears stream down my face as I stare at the ringing phone, my own name mocking me. How is this possible? Connor is Chris?
I was right.
All along… I was right.
The similarities, the connection, the way he made me feel…
But why? Why would he lie? Why would he let me think Chris didn’t want me when he was right there the whole time?
I was your first, and I’m going to be your last.
“Blue?”
Connor.
Or should I say, Chris?
I pivot toward him, the phone still clutched in my grasp.
Fear is etched across his features, and it feels alien. He’s always been a fortress, its walls impenetrable, but now they tremble before me. His eyes flick from my face to the phone, to the mask and back again.
He opens his mouth, then closes it. Opens it again. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Then what the fuck does it look like, Connor?” My voice is flat. Dead. As dead as the trust he murdered. “Or is it actually, Chris?”
Connor flinches at the name, but he doesn’t deny it. Can’t deny it.
It was Connor.
Connor is Chris, the man who claimed my body, my heart, and my soul that night and then left without a trace. The man I’ve been searching for, dreaming of, aching for—he’s been right in front of me this whole time.
And he lied about it. He fucking lied.
“Why?”
The single word holds a thousand questions. A thousand accusations. The man I gave my heart to is a lie .
He reaches out, his hand trembling, but I step back.
“How is this possible, Chris? No,… you had no tattoos,” I say.
“I covered them.”
“Your eyes were different, too.”
“Contact lenses.”
“You went through all the trouble just so I wouldn’t recognize you?”
“So you would think I’m Chris, yes.”
“Why?” My voice cracks. “Why did you lie to me?”
His hand reaches out again.
The dam breaks, and my voice rises in volume, a shout that fills the room with its raw anguish. “Why?”
He stops his hand mid-air, a statue frozen by the gravity of my pain. “Blue, please. Let me explain.”
I can’t bear to look at his face, to see the deception in his eyes. The eyes I thought held nothing but truth.
Truth and love, both as false as his name.
“Just tell me the truth,” I say.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“A little late for that.”
“You’re right.” His eyes meet mine, dark and tormented.
“Who are you? Who is real? Chris or Connor?”
“Connor. Chris is someone else.”
“What?”
“Chris is real, but he…”
“He what? ”
“He was going to hurt you. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t…”
I stand still, my body rigid as stone while my heart races with anger. “What do you mean?”
“I found out Chris planned to drug you at that party to take photos of you while you’re… and then using that to blackmail your father. They’ve done it before. You were just a target with more money. I couldn’t let that happen, so I took care of it. Taking his place… It wasn’t about the thrill. It was about keeping you safe.” He swallows hard, the guilt etched into every line of his face.
“Safe? You took his place. You lied. To me.” The words hang between us, sharp and accusing. “Taking my virginity is what you call keeping me safe?”
“I know it was wrong. I’m sorry. But after that night… after being close to you, pretending to be him, I couldn’t keep away anymore.” He reaches for me again, but I jerk away.
I can’t—won’t—let him close this distance. Not now.
“I never should have lied to you. I was just scared. Scared you’d never give me a chance if you knew the truth. Over time, the more we were together, the harder it became to hide who I really was. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t lose you. I was weak and selfish, and I’m so sorry for betraying your trust,” he says.
“How can I ever trust you again?”
“I love you, Mary.” Connor closes the distance between us and cups my face in his hands. I’m too stunned to break away. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you in college. After that night, I couldn’t stay away. I had to be a part of your life, the real me this time.”
I search for any glimmer of deception in his eyes, any sign that this revelation is just another layer of lies. But how would I even know if he lies? I couldn’t see it before, so why should I see it now?
How could he do this to me? How could he look me in the eye, day after day, and pretend to be someone else? He pretended that we were meeting for the first time, that we didn’t share a history, a connection so profound it left me raw and reeling.
“Everything we were. Everything I felt…” My own voice sounds foreign to me, hollowed out by the emptiness inside. “It was based on a lie, Connor. A lie you crafted.”
“I know. And I’ll regret it every day. But I swear, every moment since has been real. Everything I said to you after we met in person was real. My feelings for you are real. I wanted to confess everything tonight. I swear.”
“Real?” A mirthless laugh escapes me. “How can I believe anything is real when it started with you watching me, stalking me, then deceiving and, worst of all, leaving.”
The silence stretches taut between us, a barrier neither of us can break.
“Was I just another game for you, Connor? Another problem to fix?”
“No, never that. You were… you are more than I ever expected to find. ”
“You made me believe I was crazy thinking you’re Chris. I felt so bad.” I wrench myself out of his hold, stumbling back.
I trusted him. I opened up to him, let him into my life, my heart. And all the while, he knew. He knew what we had shared, what he meant to me. And he said nothing.
Anger surges through me, mingling with the pain until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. I want to scream, to rage, to make him hurt the way he’s hurt me. But beneath the fury, there’s a part of me that just wants to understand.
I look at him, really look at him.
I thought I knew him so well. But now, it’s like I’m seeing a stranger. The man I loved, the man I thought I knew… he never existed. He was just a mask, a facade hiding the truth.
And the truth is, I don’t know who Connor Milton really is. I don’t know if I ever did.
“Mary, I—”
“Stay away from me.”
His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Please.”
His words should melt my heart, but all I feel is a sharp sting right through my heart. “I can’t do this. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
Just like that morning, my body moves on its own as I gather my belongings and dress myself.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Didn’t you?” I step into my skirt, pulling it up mechanically, before striding to the front door. My hand closes around the doorknob, and I pause .
“I was protecting you.” His words strike a chord in my chest, awakening a faint glimmer of hope I try so hard to smother.
I stare at his anguished profile, wanting nothing more than to believe him.
But I can’t. Not yet.
“I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”
“Can you?” He levels me with a hard look. “Because you seem to keep falling for the wrong men.”
Stung, I open my mouth, but no words come out.
He’s not wrong.
I fall too easily and see only the good in people instead of the truth.
“You’re right, and you’re just one of them,” I say.
“Fuck, no. I didn’t mean that as an attack. I just want you to see yourself clearly. To know you deserve so much more.”
“And you think you can give me that?”
“I want to, yes.” Connor takes my hand. His rough, calloused fingers wrap around mine, and warmth blossoms in my chest.
I glare at him, acutely aware of his proximity and hating how much it affects me. “You tricked me. That entire thing was under false pretenses.”
“Was it?” His gaze drops to my mouth. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the time.”
“I thought you were someone else!”
“And yet you still ended up in my arms.” His lips curve into a smirk. “Funny how that worked out, isn’t it?”
“I hate you.”
He catches my wrists, holding them still against his chest. “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Tears slip down my cheeks. “Stay the hell away from me, Connor.” I wrench the door handle and flee.
Away from Chris.
Away from Connor.