by L.H. Cosway
I had to change my shirt afterward.
I steeled myself to finally check my emails and missed calls. There were several from Daniel, a couple of texts from Suze wondering where I was and to let her know I was okay asap, but nothing from Julian.
I shouldn’t be mad at him for not trying to contact me, since I hadn’t tried to contact him either, but it still stung. Things between us really were over and I needed to start accepting it. Getting my heart to accept it was half the battle.
My guilt over Suze ate away at me until finally, I decided to bite the bullet. I needed to come clean to her, and then she could decide whether or not she still wanted to be my friend. It was Monday, so I texted her back, apologising for the radio silence, and said I would meet her the next morning at the café.
Her response came not long after.
Suze: Okay, but I want an explanation for why I haven’t heard from you, lady!
Damn, this wasn’t going to be easy. But I had to be brave, otherwise I’d spend the rest of my life hiding, and I was sick of it, sick of keeping track of lies.
The following morning, I didn’t put on a lick of makeup, no wig, or fancy outfit. No mask. Instead I wore jeans and a T-shirt, my hair pulled into a ponytail, glasses firmly in place.
I walked into the Polka Dot Café, a lump in my throat when I spotted Suze at our usual table. She scrolled on her phone and sipped a latte. My hands shook, and my pulse thrummed as I walked up to the table, pulled out a chair and sat. Suze’s eyes flicked up from her phone.
“Sorry, but I’m waiting for someone.”
“Suze, it’s m-me,” I stammered, staring her dead in the eye. Not too much eye contact, Ellen. You don’t want to come across like any more of a crazy person.
She blinked, frowned, then shook her head. She stared at me for a long moment, taking in my hair and eyes, how different I looked but with Elodie’s face.
“I…I’m not sure what’s going on here,” she said, clearly perplexed.
“I’m Elodie.”
She was still openly staring at me. “Right.”
“But my real name is actually Ellen,” I said and scratched nervously at my wrist.
“Okaaay,” she drew out the word as she let that sink in.
“You probably think I’m a complete nutjob.”
“Um, I’m just a little…confused, I guess. Are you some kind of catfish?”
The lump in my throat hardened, because that’s basically what I was. I just hadn’t employed the internet to pretend to be someone else, I’d done it in real life. I couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.
“In a sense, yes.”
Suze looked out the window, head bobbing up and down. “Right,” she said again.
A moment of awkward silence fell. I didn’t know what else to say. Suze stood from the table. “This is a little weird, so, uh, I’m going to leave now.”
I deflated at her departure. This had gone so badly. She’d already reached the door of the café when I jumped to my feet and went after her, stepping out into the street.
“Wait, let me explain. If you still don’t want to know me after, then I’ll leave you alone, I promise,” I called out.
She was a few feet away when she stopped, turned around and walked back to me. “I guess it would be good to understand why you did this.”
I sucked in a breath, nodding. “I want to tell you.”
She blew out a breath and placed a hand on her hip. The awkwardness between us was palpable. I think it might’ve been better if she just got angry, at least that wouldn’t feel so unbearable. “Well, should we go back inside?” she asked, eyebrows lifting.
I inhaled deeply. “I live not too far from here. If you want, we can go to my house and I’ll explain everything.”
Suze was hesitant. “I’m not sure going to your house is the best idea.”
“True, but I promise I’m not some kind of serial killer. I just think if you see where I live, then you’ll be able to better understand why I did this.”
She stared at me for another long moment, seeming to conclude I wouldn’t harm her. Besides, without my heels, she was a good few inches taller than me. And she worked out. If it came to it, Suze could definitely take me in a fight.
“Fine. You have twenty minutes and then I have to get back to work.”
We started on the short walk to my house. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
She chewed her lip, glancing at me speculatively. “You better not blow it.”
“I won’t.”
Suze folded her arms, her body language a little defensive. “So, why did you do it? What was in it for you?”
I swallowed, readying myself to explain. “This is going to sound bizarre, but the night we first met, I’d just won a makeover at a drag show. That’s why I wasn’t dressed as myself. I didn’t go out with the intention of fooling you, but we just got talking and I felt so much more confident to pretend. My real self would never go to a bar and befriend someone like you, Suze. My real self had problems leaving the house, if I’m being honest.”
Something about what I said made her eyes soften. She looked like she felt a little sorry for me now. “So, you’re what, an agoraphobe?”
“Not quite. I do leave the house. But I’ve always had issues interacting with strangers, and people in general. Being Elodie helped me break free of that. Your friendship meant a lot to me. I knew it was wrong to lie, but I selfishly didn’t want to let you go.” When I looked at her, my eyes were full of a thousand apologies.
She folded her arms, let them fall to her sides, then refolded them again. “This is all a lot to take in. You should’ve just told me who you really were. I still would’ve wanted to get to know you.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t argue with her.
“I’m so sorry I did this to you. You didn’t deserve to be lied to, but really, being your friend, seeing you every week, and talking with you brightened my day. You’re so cool, Suze, and you’re kind and talented and strong. You’re the sort of person all women want as a best friend.”
I stopped talking when we reached my place. Suze was silent as I pulled out my keys and slotted them in the door.
“You live here?” she asked, sounding surprised.
I nodded and led her inside. Her attention went to the mural I’d painted on the walls. She ran her hand over it and asked, “Did you do this?”
“Yes, I, um, have a lot of free time on my hands.”
I walked into the kitchen and she followed, gasping when she saw Skittles and Rainbow in their pretty antique cage, the cherry blossom fanning out on the wall behind them. For a second, I saw my house through her eyes, and it was pretty magical. I’d put a lot of time into making it a haven, and it was certainly that.
“How can you afford all this?” she asked, and it was a valid question. This was London, and a highly sought-after neighbourhood at that. It didn’t come cheap.
“I’m an author. I write books,” I replied. It was one of the first times I’d offered the information freely and it felt good. I definitely wasn’t the old Ellen anymore.
“You do? Which books?”
“Have you heard of the Sasha Orlando series?”
Suze blinked at me. “Yes, I, um, I have. I’ve never read them, but those books are everywhere. Wow, Elodie. I mean, uh, Ellen.”
I swallowed and tugged on my sleeve, frowning as I confessed, “A lot of the stories I told you, they’re actually from my books.”
Her eyebrows jumped. “You made them up?”
“Yes. I want to apologise for that, too. For lying.”
Suze looked around, then back to me. “I guess you get points for being inventive.”
A moment of quiet fell before I asked, “Would you like some tea?”
She turned to me, seeming to surprise even herself when she replied, “Yes, I would like some.”
I went to put the kettle on as she stepped up to the birdcage. “They’re very pretty.
”
“Their names are Rainbow and Skittles. They’re lovebirds,” I said.
“How long have you had them?”
“Almost six years.” I was so relieved that she was making conversation and not leaving and telling me where to stick my friendship.
“Ellen?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you coming clean about all this now?” She was clearly trying to understand my motivations.
I exhaled heavily. “I guess I just got sick of hiding. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
“So, you want to start over?”
“If you’ll allow it, yes. I’d like to be your friend as me. As Ellen.”
A small smile shaped her mouth as she pulled out a chair. “In that case, you better start talking. I want to know everything, and leave nothing out.” She paused as her eyes wandered around the room. “I have a feeling Ellen is a lot more interesting than Elodie ever was.”
The relief that hit me was monumental. I hadn’t realised just how much I’d wanted Suze’s acceptance. She was one of the few friends I had in this world and losing her would’ve hurt.
So, I finished making the tea, sat down across from her and started to talk.
* * *
“I have big news,” Daniel declared as soon as I picked up the phone. After Suze left, I finally got around to returning his calls.
“Oh? What kind of big news?”
“We’ve had another offer come in about purchasing the film rights for the Sasha Orlando series. And before you say no, just listen. I think you’ll like this offer.”
I had a feeling I already knew where the offer had come from. After meeting Damon Atwood at Julian’s flat and hearing him speak so passionately about turning my books into films, I’d certainly been convinced he could do them justice. At the time, he had no clue he was talking to the author herself, which only worked to convince me further.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of the actor, Damon Atwood,” Daniel went on. “Well, he plans on making his directorial debut and—”
“Have your people draw up a contract and I’ll take a look,” I said, cutting him off.
“Wait, what?” I’d clearly surprised him. “Um, do you mean to say you’re interested? Because I had a whole spiel ready and I definitely didn’t think you’d agree so easily.”
“Well, I’ve finally decided it’s time for Sasha to meet the big screen, but I want to write the screenplay, or at least be a part of the team writing it. That’s my only condition.”
“In that case, I’ll get right to work,” Daniel replied. He sounded overjoyed, which was expected given the commission he was going to earn on this deal.
The following week I was working a shift at the bookshop when Rose walked in. Just the sight of her made my chest hurt, made me remember how much I missed and yearned for Julian. His absence in my life was marked, but I wasn’t going to force myself on someone who didn’t want to be with me.
“Hi, Ellen,” she greeted with a wave then went to peruse the shelves.
“H-hello, Rose,” I replied and endeavoured to concentrate on the magazine I was reading. It was no use though. I wanted to grab her and demand she tell me everything about Julian. I wanted to know if he missed me like I missed him. But then, what if he didn’t? That knowledge would just make me feel worse.
A few minutes later she approached the counter with a copy of The Catcher in the Rye. “I know it’s shameful, but I’ve never read it. Damon said I should. It’s one of his favourites. Speaking of which, he’s over the moon you’ve agreed to enter into talks about the film rights for Sasha.”
I gave a small smile. “Well, I was very impressed when I heard him talk about it that time at…” I faltered before I could finish the sentence and her eyes softened. A few moments of quiet passed between us before she spoke.
“Julian has never been an easy person,” she said, almost like a confession. “We’ve been each other’s only family since we were kids, and well, I know him better than anyone.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she insisted. “I want you to hear this, because of all the women he’s had, I’ve never seen him so miserable as he’s been these last few weeks after leaving you.”
He was miserable? A part of me rejoiced, but another part felt awful. I didn’t ever want him to be sad, even though I really wanted him to miss me.
“Julian has always been full of light, despite a lot of suffering in his life. It’s miraculous when you think about it. My mother passed away when I was still a teenager, and if it wasn’t for Julian looking out and caring for me, I don’t know where I might’ve ended up. We had nothing, and he resorted to selling his body to feed and clothe us. He took that bullet so I didn’t have to, and as a result, I will always love him, no matter what.”
The thought of the two of them being so helpless, with nowhere to turn, made my heart heavy.
“You might not realise it, but he’s the most selfless person you will ever meet. Everything he does is for others. I’ve seen him change lives. He just has this way of influencing people. I’m sure you’ve felt it for yourself.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “He definitely changed me.”
Her eyes grew glossy. “The thing is, you changed him, too.”
I looked away, sniffling. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“But you did. Do you know he’s stopped working? Even before he ended things with you, he wasn’t himself with any of his clients. He doesn’t know it, and he’d probably deny it if asked, say it was passing infatuation, but he was falling in love with you, Ellen.”
All at once, the air left my lungs. “Then why did he leave me?”
“Because he was frightened. You have to understand, Julian has always resigned himself to being unlovable, or to being loved temporarily. It’s a crutch he uses so that he never has to invest in one person, never has to have his heart broken. His mother was a careless woman. She loved him in her own way, but she struggled with depression, so her love never really came across. In the years when Julian lived with her, she went from one partner to the next. She cheated on most of the people she was with, and that’s all Julian ever saw. He never saw a loving, monogamous relationship. When he grew up, he took on the same behaviour, but he’s not the same as his mum. He’s not careless. If anything, he cares too much. He gives all of himself away and leaves nothing just for him.”
“He said he thought it was for the best that we end things. That it would hurt at first, but in the long run I’d see he was right.”
Rose’s bright blue eyes turned sad. “He’s pushing you away. I’ve tried to reason with him, but he won’t listen. He’s been staying with Damon and I on the island. We just got back to London last night.”
“I don’t know what to do, Rose. I…” my cheeks flushed as I swallowed. “I want to be with him, but he doesn’t want to be with me. Or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.”
She reached out to squeeze my hand. “Julian doesn’t respond well to being pressured. Give him time. I think he’ll come around eventually. He’s too smart not to.”
I stared into her kind, caring eyes, so grateful that she’d come to talk to me. But the thing was, I deserved better than to wait around. I understood that Julian viewed himself a certain way, that he didn’t believe he could be loved unconditionally, loved forever, but how could he not see that was how I felt for him? How could he be so wilfully blind?
I was torn in two over this.
One part of me yearned for Julian, was heartbroken for all the suffering he’d been through, but the other part was angry. Running away from love was the coward’s route, and though he might need time, I wasn’t going to hang about the house, pining and waiting for him to come looking for me.
For years I’d been trying to build up the courage to go travelling. I’d just submitted my book to my editor, so I now had the free time not to mention the funds to finally tick an item off my bucket list. I’d was
ted so much time, entire decades of my life inside my room, making up stories but never experiencing life firsthand.
When I got home after my shift, I opened up my laptop, navigated to a travel website and started to make some plans.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julian
SEVERAL MONTHS LATER
“I want you to come on board as a technical consultant for the film,” Damon said as he lifted his cup of coffee.
I glanced up from the newspaper I was reading with breakfast and arched an eyebrow. “Pardon?”
“I keep forgetting that you still haven’t read Ellen’s books. The film is based on book one, Good Girl, Bad Lady, and the storyline revolves around Sasha writing an expose about male escorts. Your expertise would be extremely helpful.”
“I’m aware of the storyline. If you hadn’t noticed, Rose likes to discuss the series ad nauseam.” My irritable countenance didn’t put him off. I’d been a grumpy bastard for months now, and Rose and Damon were saints for putting up with me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt myself. I thought that being without Ellen would get easier with time, but so far it hadn’t.
I’d not seen her since the day of her father’s wedding. When I came home from Skye, I made sure to avoid the Polka Dot Café and the area near her house. I feared that if I saw her, I’d crack, get down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness, take any scraps she was willing to give.
Then, during a weak moment, I’d taken a stroll past the bookshop. When I spotted Bernice inside, I couldn’t resist going in. I had no plan, other than a deep-seated need to see Ellen, make sure she was okay. I asked Bernice if she’d be on shift that day, but she only shook her head and informed me Ellen had taken a few months off to go travelling across Europe. My heart sank at the news, but another, selfless part of me rejoiced. She’d finally built up the courage to go explore the world by herself.