30. The ACTUAL big reveal
30
THE ACTUAL BIG REVEAL
W ill sucks in a sharp breath when he sees me standing in the corner of the room. I, on the other hand, have stopped breathing altogether. Every single inch of my body is paralyzed in shock. As for the rest of the people in the conference room, no one’s said a word, choosing instead to wait on one of “The Liams” to speak first.
From the corner of my eye, I watch the older man squint at Will with a questioning look in his eyes. Not surprising, since the man I woke up next to this morning has gone as white as a sheet, his unblinking eyes never leaving mine. “Liam? What’s wrong?”
Will blinks once before swallowing, rolling his lips before turning back to… his father? No, he mentioned his father was dead. His grandfather, then? Is that who he is?
Yes. Yes, he’s Liam Stevenson’s grandson. Liam Stevenson has a grandson and I know this because?—
I gasp. The gala. The stupid event at the New York Public Library was for him . No wonder he was freaking out when he saw me. He was afraid I’d find out he’s been lying to me.
He’s been lying to me .
But why? What was the reason behind keeping me in the dark about who he really is? And changing his name? Why would he tell me his name was Will if he goes by Liam?
But, wait… His mother calls him Will, too, so…
Oh, god. Oh god oh god oh god.
My brain spirals as it attempts to catch up with everything. With the lies. With the misinformation. With my own damn stupidity. As soon as I begin to have one realization about what this could mean, as soon as I begin a single thought, another comes crashing over me. The shock rocks me so deep in my core, I wobble on my feet.
Will takes a step toward me, reaches out a hand to catch me even though we’re on different sides of the room. His concern should be heartwarming, but it turns my confusion into anger because?—
The fucking audacity .
He wants to act like he still cares about me? After clearly having lied to me since late January? You don’t treat someone you care about like that.
Oh my god, it’s been months, and I’ve believed every single thing out of this man’s mouth without hesitation or question. And how dumb was that, trusting a stranger off the internet? With my luck, I should’ve known better. I should’ve known the universe was bound to send me yet another person who would ruin my life.
I feel the stinging in my eyes grow stronger, the tightness in my throat so intense I can barely swallow. Because betrayal has never hurt this much. Not when Roger stole all my money and ruined my credit, leaving me out on the street. Not when it was Molly letting me down as a friend, never believing I could achieve anything big in life unless it had to do with failure. Not Lena, for breaking my heart and turning out to be a nightmare instead of the mentor I needed. Not even when it was my own mother who used to leave me to fend for myself on her bad days, or make me have to take care of us both on her worst ones.
No. Will’s betrayal hurts so much more than all of those combined. And maybe it’s because of how deeply I trust him. Trusted him. Until this very moment, the idea of Will pulling this level of deceit was unimaginable. Unthinkable.
Honestly, if future me had traveled back in the past to warn me about this moment in time, I would’ve thought the craziest part about our interaction would not be proof of the existence of time travel, but that she was making these claims.
Will? Lie and deceive in such a gigantic manner?
No.
Except that he did. Except that I am about five seconds away from bursting into tears because I trusted this man with every fiber of my being. With every single one of my thoughts. I let him into every nook and cranny of my heart only for me to realize I have no idea who he is.
I need to leave. I need to leave, to get out of here and find some sort of foothold on reality because—Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on?
Will stands by the conference room door, blocking my only exit out. There’s no question that, in order to get away from him, I’m going to have to go through him, and it will take every ounce of strength in my body to fight him if he asks me not to go. But it’s a necessary evil, since I don’t think I could stand to be here a minute longer.
“I—” I begin to address the room. “Excuse me, I have to…” But I never finish my sentence as I power-walk toward the conference room door and walk out, pushing myself in between Will and his grandfather—the Liams.
Once I clear the door, I start running and don’t stop.
I don’t stop when I hear him call my name.
I don’t stop when I reach the front doors of their offices.
I run like a madwoman to the elevators and wait impatiently, praying that for once in my life—once in my entire fucking life—luck will be on my side.
I hold my breath and only release when the elevator dings and the doors begin to open. I practically jump into the elevator and frantically punch the lobby button. But despite my best efforts, Will still manages to jump in right before the doors close.
* * *
“Bridge,” he says, devastation clear on his face. “Bridge, I’m so fucking sor?—”
“ Do not ,” I cut him off, my voice breaking as tears begin to stream down my face. “Do not even try to apologize,” I hiss. “You’ve been lying to me for months . And for what? Some sort of fucked up corporate espionage thing? Just so you could get information and have the upper hand in negotiations? I mean, Jesus, all that talk about corporate greed this morning was just talk, then. I guess I never expected it from the guy I fell in love with.” I shock myself—and Will—for revealing that last piece of information in such a careless manner. But his betrayal has finally cracked me open and there was no way to keep it in anymore. “Guess that guy doesn’t exist, though.”
Will rears back, eyes widening. “What? No! No way, that’s not what happened. Not at all. We were—we fucking are —real. Realer than anything I’ve ever had in my life. I was not using you.”
“Really? Because it kind of looks like you were. On several occasions we went into detail on pricing, did we not? Even though we agreed to try to keep work talk to a minimum. Yet you still used me to get whatever scraps of information you could.”
“That’s ridiculous! I absolutely did not.”
“Throughout the entire development of this season’s collection, we’ve been getting pushback from your company’s finance team. They’ve been making my team’s life impossible. And guess what? You are the literal head of that department. You were making my work harder than it had to be.”
“It was my job, Bridge. It was my job to make sure we got the highest margins, and it’s not like I wanted to make your work life miserable. These weren’t my decisions. They were—” He groans. “None of that matters. None of the work shit matters. What matters to me is that you know that this is real. That my feelings are real. And I’m still me. It’s still us. Give me time to explain. I was?—”
But just as he begins to spew whatever excuse he could muster up at the drop of a hat, the elevator dings and the doors open. Immediately, I sprint out, my heels clicking and clacking on the marble floors. Will is on my tail, calling out my name, begging me to stop. But I’m so close. I’m so, so close to the revolving doors, to the streets of New York, to catching the first subway outta here. Except my shoes weren’t made for running and I’m an absolute klutz, so I wipe out in front of everyone, falling face and wrist first on the ground.
Of course, because why would the universe let me get away with at least a single shred of dignity? Why wouldn’t it give me the chance to leave with my head held high after the chaos I just witnessed happen before my eyes?
For what feels like the hundredth time in an hour, I ask myself, “Where is the silver lining in all of this?”
The tears are hot as they stream down my face, no end in sight. I’ve finally hit my limit, I think. So I surrender and sit on the floor, cradling my left wrist to my chest with my right hand. I never lie, it’s true, but I tell myself that most of these tears stem from the pain shooting up and down my wrist and hand, and not because my heart feels like it’s been torn to shreds and my mind has been put through a blender.
My eyes are closed as I softly sob in the middle of this cold lobby, but I sense Will’s warmth and scent—so familiar to me now—as he sits beside me on the marble floor.
“Does it hurt?” His voice is honey and sweetness, and I want to seek comfort in it.
But I don’t trust it or him—or even myself, for that matter. After all, I’m the one who keeps getting myself into these situations with the wrong people.
It’s clear that I’m the problem, here.
“Yes,” I whisper back. “Yes, you hurt me.”
His breath hitches. “I—I meant the wrist. But… Yeah. I know.” I can hear the pain in his voice, and I resent it. He doesn’t get to feel pained over hurting me.
Finally, I gather enough strength to open my eyes and look up at him. Through my tears, his face is blurry, but I can still see how deep his regret goes as he looks back at me.
“You lied to me,” I whisper.
“I didn’t. I just didn’t clarify a few things.”
I scoff at the audacity, but he at least has the decency to look miserable as he says it.
“Lie of omission, then.”
Gently, he takes my injured wrist in his hands and examines it. “It’s swelling up, Bridge. We need to go to a doctor. Or at the very least we need to ice this immediately.”
I pull it back, wincing in pain. “ I need to ice it immediately. Back home. In my apartment. Alone.”
“Bridget, please. Just let me take care of you. We can go to my place—it’s just around the corner—and we can talk. Baby, we can talk and I can explain everything and you can yell at me and call me an ass—because I am. I know I am. But please, come home with me and let me explain everything while I take care of you and?—”
“Stop. Just… Stop. Will—or is it Liam?—I really don’t want to hear it right now. Just let me go home. Let me have this.” The exhaustion and heartbreak must be clear on my face because Will’s eyes grow glassy, his brows pinching as if in pain.
After a moment, he nods. “Okay. Okay, Bridge.”
“Okay.”
Will presses his lips together, as if searching for the perfect words to make this better, but we both know there aren’t any. At least not now. Maybe not even ever.
“Can I at least take you? Make sure you get home okay?”
“It’s fine,” I tell him when he tries to help me to my feet. “I’ll take the train, and it will all be fine.”
“What? No. You can’t take the subway like this.”
I snort. “Well, I’m certainly not going to take a cab. It’s almost four o’clock—the start of rush hour—so there’s no way I’m going to be able to find one now. And if you’re worried about the fact that I look like a tear-streaked lunatic, no one on the subway is going to be shocked by a woman crying in their car. This is New York. It’ll be like any other Tuesday afternoon on the F train.”
“I—” He hesitates, struggling to speak. “I actually have a car service. Which we could take. To your apartment, if you’d like.”
I gawk at him. “ Car service ? Just how rich are you?”
“I’m not rich.” He groans, looking away in embarrassment. “The car service comes with the role of CFO. Which is new. Or was new, since I put in my notice today. My grandfather wanted me to use it during business hours so people think I’m hot shit or something. But I only use it for trips to and from work.”
“Nepobaby.” I scoff again and he flinches. “Is it a limo?”
“It isn’t a limo,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “But it does come with certain… amenities. One of which is a fully stocked minibar and ice for drinks. Which means if we take my car, we’ll be able to ice your wrist on our way to your place so we can talk.”
“ I’ll be able to. I’ll be able to ice my wrist. Without you.”
“Bridge—”
“You can’t seriously believe that things are going to go back to normal after what just happened, can you?”
“Obviously not. But I would love to have the chance to explain myself. I was going to tell you after it was all over.”
“I still don’t know what it is!” My voice echoes in the lobby. Suddenly, I realize there are one too many people staring at us and I really don’t feel like being someone’s slow motion car crash they can’t look away from. “I’m not even sure I understand what’s going on. All I know is that you aren’t you, and you’ve been lying to me about pieces of who you are for some reason.”
“So let me explain. You don’t want me in your apartment? I totally get it. But let me take you home, ice your wrist while we talk on the way back to your place. Give me the car ride home to tell you everything.”
It’s his use of the word home that gets me. I hate myself a little for folding so quickly, but it’s true. Since having him in my life, since our relationship took that next step, my apartment—my shitty, six floor walk-up, bug infested, miniature apartment, where nothing ever works—has quickly turned into a home .
I swallow once and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to process the different layers of pain my body is made up of. My wrist is definitely sprained at the very least. But my heart? That’s for sure broken.
In all honesty, I don’t want to spend a second more with Will than I have to. The embarrassment cuts too deep. But I know I’ll drive myself crazy with questions that will be left unanswered if I don’t give him a chance to explain himself. Sure, there’s a chance they’ll all be lies, but I’ll at least have something to go off of. And right now, I need that.
I take a deep breath to steel myself because I know that this car ride will be agonizing in more ways than one. Still, it needs to happen.
“Get the car. I’m only giving you the ride back to my place to tell me everything.”