Chapter 42
VICTOR
“It’s too nice of a view at sunset,” Josie whispers.
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
We’re walking by the ocean. The sun is coming down. The only sounds to hear are the crashing waves and the seagulls in the air. Behind us is the old city and the old docks. Above us are the cliffs.
It’s just us two here.
We’ve walked in relative silence - a comfortable silence – all the way here from the hotel. I want to give Josie the space she needs. Whatever she was crying about wasn’t good, but I don’t know how the hell I can support her.
I’m just a man who has never dealt with a crying girl before. A stupid loaf of a man.
“It feels fake,” she explains. “The sunset. It doesn’t feel real.”
“It’s happening right there,” I tell her, pointing out to the setting sun. “Literally in front of our eyes.”
Josie shrugs.
“Ignore me,” she says. “I don’t know what I’m saying. My head is a mess right now.”
“That’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to have everything figured out.”
“Everything has just been a struggle,” she whispers. “For months and months and months. I feel like I’m pushing against a wall that will not budge in the slightest.”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s called life. That’s what we have to do every single day. That same fucking wall.”
“I’m sure you’ve never felt like that,” Josie remarks.
“Yes, I have,” I say.
“Come on, don’t lie. You’re a Penmayne. You haven’t felt that kind of struggle.”
“So I don’t have feelings?”
“No, you’re not allowed to,” Josie rebuffs. “You are literally one of the best-looking people on Earth, Victor. You have an overstuffed bank account. You’re on the front page of every magazine. You have millions of girls lusting after you...”
I laugh, cutting her off.
“I am still human, Josie.”
“But you’re not supposed to feel the stresses and anxieties everyone else feels.”
“I’m still just a man who gets out of bed every day,” I explain. “I’m not an emotionless robot. I have stress and anxiety like everyone else on this planet.”
The girl sighs.
“I find it hard that it’s all fake,” she murmurs quietly.
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
I don’t know what she’s talking about... the sunset still?
“The relationship,” she explains. “Us. What we’re doing. I find it so hard. Don’t you?”
I pause and reflect on what she’s saying.
That’s what she’s worried about?
To be honest, things don’t feel too fake to me.
“No. I don’t,” I reply. “I don’t find it hard.”
“Okay.”
We stop to watch the last moments of the day’s sun before it disappears. But I’m not looking at the sunset.
I’m looking at Josie.
She’s so beautiful. And gorgeous. And full of a rich inner life.
And I realize I’ve lied to her. I do find the fakeness hard.
The more time I spend with her, the harder it is.
And, even though I’ll never tell her, it is terrifying.