Chapter Forty-Eight
How can I be expected to work when a bombshell of this magnitude has exploded into my life?
After a few aborted attempts, I decide to take a personal day.
My mind is far too scattered to copyedit a romance novel.
I’ll probably tell the author it’s all absolutely fake and there’s no chance for happy ever afters.
It’s all a lie. I’m overwrought, it’s to be expected.
My blossoming relationship has just wilted.
Died. All because Tiago played to type and went with deviousness instead of the truth.
Confronting him makes sense. Then making a clean break of it.
I’ll have to abandon book club. Have to disappoint my mother again.
I won’t be able to help Lucinda, who is God only knows where, dealing with her own troubles.
Most likely dealing with yet another man who makes a habit of lying and wouldn’t even put a ring on it.
I call Tiago and he answers on the first ring. ‘Calling during work hours, that’s unlike you, Viviane, but I hope this becomes a habit.’
‘Tiago, you lied about reading The Quill Chronicles.’
‘What?’ His voice wobbles on the short word, a clue that he did in fact lie and knows he is now caught out in that lie.
‘“What” is not a sufficient answer. Did you lie, yes or no?’
‘Well, yes, but it’s – it’s not what you think. Oh God, how did you, my mum. I-I didn’t mean to, well, of course, not in any bad way, and then I so desperately wanted to tell you, but I lost courage.’
I think back to the night at the tasca, where I was surprised he didn’t know what made a good sidekick according to Detective Amber Quill, since she explains it in great detail in book one.
Unwittingly, I’d been close to the truth then when he spluttered on his wine. ‘You lied that night at the tasca too.’
‘No, well yes, but the thing is, I wanted to tell you, I thought we’d laugh about it.
I was all set to at Ida’s wedding, I sort of alluded to it, and then you said basically if we didn’t have that same love in common you wouldn’t have taken the conversation any further, so what could I do?
I didn’t want to risk that, risk losing you. I-I just couldn’t.’
‘How can I trust anything you say? Why would you start a conversation with lies?’
‘I’m so sorry, Viviane, it’s not like it was done maliciously.
I didn’t have a clue what to say that day, and I’d almost lost my nerve and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
I didn’t know how else to keep the conversation going.
I just – just latched on to that. Only because I was desperate to get to know you.
You can see that, right?’ There’s a real desperation to his voice and it hurts to hear, but I steel myself against it.
‘In future, I suggest you don’t start relationships based on lies.’
‘OK. I’m sorry. But what are you saying?’
‘I’m saying this isn’t going to work for me. I can’t trust you, Tiago. You know that’s a deal breaker for me, after losing my dad the way I did.’
‘Viviane, I’d give anything to change this, but I can’t. Really. I totally get where you’re coming from, now that I know what happened in your past, but it’s just – can we start over? Start fresh.’
How can you weigh a lie? Aren’t all lies bad? Won’t they lead to more? ‘It shows me what you’re capable of. One lie leads to the next, and soon there’s another family around the corner. I’m sorry it hasn’t worked out, Tiago. Really, I am.’
I hang up the phone and let the tears fall.
I’m certain I have to end things but that doesn’t mean it softens the pain.
When the many layers of Dad’s complicated life were peeled back, I promised myself that I’d never let anyone hurt me like that again.
Promised myself I’d hold fast to the rule that anyone I let close must be trustworthy.
I clamp my lips closed against sobs, trying and failing to pull myself together so I don’t crumple into a messy heap. When I think of Tiago, the abject misery in his voice, there’s a physical pain in my heart. He’s hurting, just like me, and that only makes this all much worse.
I’m stifled inside, the walls close in on me, so I head out for my walk earlier than usual. At the park, Chess Man sits with his face trained up to the sun as if he’s napping, with Bruno curled up in his arms. When I inch closer his eyes snap open.
‘Viviane. Ready to lose?’
The game of chess always manages to calm me but today it doesn’t have the same magic.
‘What is it?’ Chess Man asks, leaning back.
‘That obvious?’
‘You’re making mistakes, you very rarely do.’
I explain the whole sorry Tiago saga.
‘I see. I can understand why you feel that way. There are all sorts of lies, lies by omission, lies by intention, and on it goes. But what you have to ask yourself is did he mean any harm by it?’
‘But how do you know small lies won’t turn into big lies? That it doesn’t become a pattern? They get away with a few white lies here and there, so their confidence builds and next minute he’s got a second family.’
‘I sense a story there.’
‘Yes. A long, sad story that isn’t worth telling.’
‘Do you love this Tiago?’
Do I? Isn’t it too soon for declarations such as these? ‘I love the idea of him. Of what we could be. Of how I bloom with confidence when he’s around. How he makes me feel like I’m perfect just the way I am.’
‘Then that sounds like someone worth fighting for. Love is hard to find, even harder to keep. He made a mistake by lying that very first day, not knowing that it’s a trigger for you. I’m of the belief that everyone deserves a second chance.’