The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,257

Lie. By Kalilah Greer.

Remington Wilde is an enigma.

He’s made an art of being elusive. Who is the man behind The Legend? To know that, we must know the truth.

This is a journey into the amazing life story that’s bigger than one man… and that proves that all Legends are really just built on lies…

What follows is my life story, laid out in some sort of chronological outline. Written by Kal.

At first I’m confused. And then I replay the last ten days and it call comes clear.

She’s been skittish and anxious. I thought it had to do with her daughter’s upcoming visit. I haven’t had a minute to talk to her because I was dealing with work and my dad. We had only come together when I would collapse in bed with her every night. I assumed she’d been working during the day like me. I hadn’t asked her a single question that wasn’t related to my dad.

The shower stops and I close the document and open the browser. Maybe I’m wrong. She wouldn’t do this without telling me.

My pulse thuds in my ears, and cold dread settles in my gut. I drop my head into my hands. I get dressed, and then sit and wait for the woman who has stolen my heart, who owns its every beat, who my soul has fallen in love with, to come out of the bathroom and tell me that she’s been lying to me the entire time.

The bathroom door opens, floral scented steams filters out and she steps through it like the siren she is. “Hey, baby, I was thinking we could just order something in, I need to talk—”

She stops talking when she sees my expression. Her eyes widen with alarm and she rushes toward me.

“Remi, what’s wrong?” She bends over and cups my face; her worried eyes search mine.

“Are you writing an article about me?” I ask and she recoils, agony rushes into her eyes and a groan escapes her lips.

She drops her hands from my face like it’s a red hot piece of coal. She kneels in front of me and looks up at me.

Her eyes fill with tears. “I was going to tell you, Remi. I swear.”

My stomach drops to my toes.

Shit.

It’s true.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Damn every fucking thing to hell.

This is the woman my heart was made to worship. I love her so damn much.

Somehow though, we keep fucking it up.

I am sick to death of lies. I would rather die than to listen to another single one.

And I think one more lie from her lips might actually kill me. After yesterday, I feel as raw as I’ve ever felt. The one thing I thought was real has just proven to be more myth than fact.

I place a hand on her head, run it around the delicate curve of her skull, sift my fingers through her thick, damp hair. I drag them across her chest skimming the edge of the towel she’s wrapped herself in and stop when I get to her heart.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

She looks up at me and nods, her lips are trembling, her eyes leaking the evidence of her distress.

“I was going to tell you.” Those words, the admission of her deceit, the sorrow in her eyes, the damage she’s done, what it means for us all come rushing at me and I know I need to get away from her before I say something I don’t mean. Something I can’t take back.

I stand up and step around her. She scrambles to her feet and grabs my arm.

“Please don’t go. Please let me explain.”

I turn to face her and avert my gaze, because I’m not sure I can take that look in her eyes right now.

“Are you going to tell me that you’re not here to write a story about me and my family?”

“No, but—”

“I would like you to go.”

Her face crumbles. “Remi, you don’t mean that. I know this sounds bad, but—”

“Yeah, Kal, it sounds bad,” I say and I walk over to the door and open it.

“Leave, please.” I am struggling to keep my temper in check.

“If you want me to leave this bedroom, you will have to carry me out of here.” She tilts her chin at me, daring me to do it. Oh.

“I’ve treated you with the gentlest of kid gloves. But don’t forget who I am.” In the storm of my hurt and anger, I do the stupidest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.

I throw her