Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
MAGGIE
The low winter sun filters in through my windows. The glorious slice of gold only lasts for the briefest of time in the city, with the way the buildings across the street blot it out for most of the day.
The two weeks since I visited my father have been the most serene I’ve ever had. Even with the odd surges of guilt that bite when I think of Eddie’s family wondering where he is. He was a rip-roaring cunt waffle, but he was their cunt waffle.
I’m on the sofa, doom-scrolling stupid videos and drinking copious amounts of tea. It’s pure bloody bliss.
I’ve been trying to break my terrible habit of listening to Roman through the walls like a little creep. My success rate is limited.
Other than the occasional awkward hallway clash, I haven’t seen him.
He’s not in this morning. I watched him from the kitchenette window as he donned his leather jacket and straddled his motorbike.
The sight of him in his helmet did some rather ungodly things to my insides, and I made a short visit to my favourite pillow soon after.
Not that it manages to scratch the itch quite the same these days.
As I stare at my pot plants, wondering if I’m overwatering them or underwatering them, my phone buzzes.
Roman.
Just his name on the screen makes my stomach turn sunny side up. I’d slipped my number under his door in a moment of madness once, with a babbling note about it being for emergencies. He’d text me a thumbs up along with ‘
Cool. Roman. Hardly the most riveting of first discussions.
You might want to sit down.
I’m already sprawled across my couch like a Victorian drama queen.
A bit late.
Another buzz.
I’m sorry if this isn’t how you wanted to find out. I got carried away.
My thumb hovers over the link that pops up below the message.
What on earth has he done? Has he sold our story to the newspapers? Or some blood-hungry crime podcast? God, I hope not.
But not clicking isn’t an option. As though I have one iota of restraint in my body.
I click.
The page loads, and a series of headlines hit me in the face. And lots of photos of Roman. Looking absolutely delicious, if I do say so.
Internet’s Most Notorious Celibate Says He’s in Love
‘It Was All a Lie’: Influencer Shocks Millions With Confession
Who Is the Woman Who Changed Everything?
Christ, I hope they don’t come looking for me. Our family is very much a stay-out-of-the-press kind of vibe.
My second thought is Roman, you absolute knobhead.
I click through to his page after reading wild versions of his story.
A new video is pinned to the top. And yes, I know all of his videos enough to spot the new one on first glance.
So sue me, a girl’s got to get her man candy for sad lonely faps from somewhere.
There’s no sensational clickbait title or thumbnail of his glorious abs (shame) to entice people in, but there are already over two million views.
He sits on his sofa, looking a bit worse for wear, but no less lovable for it. His hair is a bit of a mess, and there’s still a whisper of a yellow bruise on his jaw if you know where to look.
I press play.
‘Hi,’ he says, and immediately I have to bite my lip because he sounds like him. Not the hype-up character of him online, but the real one.
‘I don’t really know how to start this… but I want you all to know that I’m not who I’ve said I am.’
I’m sweating more than he bloody well is.
‘I built a life around an idea,’ he continues, sweeping a hand through his dark hair. ‘That distance was discipline, and isolation breeds strength. That love was… for the uninformed.’
You were a lying twat. But a hot one, at least.
‘For a long time, I believed that to be true. Until I didn’t.’
I slurp my tea, my eyes glued to my screen.
‘Loneliness isn’t a badge of honour, and I used it to try and hide my broken heart.
My views on this celibacy cult I’ve added to online have changed.
If they were ever even true. While I encourage so many people to give up intimacy to gain focus, I was lying to you all.
I’d pick up women in bars who were as lonely as me, and lose myself in them for a night. Only ever one night.’
Jealousy tinges, even though I know it’s irrational.
‘I told myself I wasn’t worthy of love. That it was safer to pretend I didn’t want it. So I hid behind this persona. It was a lie.’
What’s he doing? He’s throwing himself under a bus.
‘And then I met someone.’
The way I blush, even though not a soul in the world can see me.
‘She’s amazing. Charming and utterly chaotic.’
Is he claiming me publicly? I can scarcely believe it.
‘Knowing her makes it impossible for me to keep telling you that this life,’ he gestures vaguely, ‘is something to aspire to. It isn’t. Not for most of the reasons my fans are here. Not in the toxic way the online world seethes and places ideas where they don’t belong.’
Tears stream, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
‘I believed I didn’t deserve more than this,’ he says. ‘But I was wrong.’
Welcome to the club. Misinformed adults who let their childhood traumas control their futures, come on in. It’s not the catchiest title, to be fair, but I’m also no longer a member.
‘Even if she never wants me.’ He focuses on the camera, and it’s like he’s speaking to me alone. ‘Even if this costs me everything… she deserves to know that she’s amazing. That she changed me despite the way we met. That I deserve more.’
His breath catches, and he clears his throat.
‘And so do you.’
With a shake of his head, I see him relax.
‘If you’ve been following me because it gave you permission to be an avoidant idiot, please don’t. I was wrong. Don’t be as stupid as I am.’
A pause.
‘I’m done pretending.’
The video ends.
I stew over everything for a few minutes, consuming half a packet of emotional support Party Rings while I’m at it.
My phone buzzes again.
I meant what I said.
I don’t expect anything. I just can’t lie anymore.
He’s blown up his entire life.
For… me.
He’d said, Even if she doesn’t want me.
What an idiot. Of course, I want him.
But can we work? A former failure of a contract killer, and the man who lied his way through celibacy fraud?
What a couple we’d make.
I force myself to put my phone down. In my bid to become at least a semi-functioning adult, I decide to take my time. However badly I’m tempted to throw myself into his lap.