by Amanda Lance
“Hello.”
“Hello,” she replied without looking away from the headstone. I decided to take a page out of her book and do the same. The headstone itself wasn’t particularly interesting, but I supposed it was a perfectly valid excuse to avoid looking at one another.
“Visiting?”
Her nod was almost imperceptible. “I don’t come as often as I should.”
“Neither do I.”
Finally she looked at me, but said nothing.
“What?” I tried to make myself sound playful, but I was sure it came out sounding a lot more pathetic than I wanted. “Don’t believe me?”
She shrugged before replying. “I don’t believe a word you say. I’m sorry I ever did.”
Even though I was, I refused to directly admit that I was sorry. Instead, I waited a minute until my frustration simmered before continuing. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“It’s true,” I tried.
“People like you don’t know what the truth is,” she said. “You have some vague concept of it, maybe you memorized the definition of it, but you have no idea how to practice it.”
Suddenly, I was mad. Mad that she knew me so well and mad that I was having difficulty hiding it. Mostly, however, I was mad because she was right. “I never promised you anything.”
Finally, she looked at me. “It was implied.”
“Evidence is required to argue any case sweetheart,” I snapped. “You haven’t even established a burden of proof that what we had was anything but fun.”
“Was Madison Taylor fun? Was Jessica Sahni?”
“Madison was fun right up until she started introducing herself as my fiancée. There’s a reason she’s known as Mad Madison, you know. But I was never with the other girl.” I opened my mouth again before closing it. I had almost told Violet that she was the only one I’d had been with all summer, but the instinct to keep my feelings to myself prevailed.
“Why should I believe you? You lied to me for two weeks about even remembering me—hell, you lie for a living.”
Once again I considered exposing myself, considered telling her about the pro-bono work I was doing, to tell her how she had inspired me and that I thought of her constantly. But by the time I managed to unlock my jaw, she was already walking away.
I swallowed hard and tried a different tactic. “Where are you going?”
She stopped in her tracks, but didn’t around. “I have a date.”
I blinked and looked back at the headstone. I had just spent five minutes justifying why we shouldn’t be together—so why did the idea of her being with anyone else repulse me? As usual, I defaulted to indifference. “Anyone I know?”
“Yeah,” Though I couldn’t see her, I was sure she was smiling. “Detective Matt Hurley.”
“Is he taking you to a donut shop?”
“Cubs game—turns out we’re both fans.”
I laughed, though it did nothing to ease the ache blooming in my chest. “Baseball—an inconsequential game for inconsequential people.”
She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Good-bye, Sebastian.”
I let her walk away completely this time, pondering the bizarre evolution of our relationship. It may not have seemed like much to most people, but I had already been significantly changed by Violet Donovan. She had corrupted my line of thinking and ruined any chance I had of living life unaffected by what I do for a living. But worse yet, I was completely and totally in love with her.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10