The Lie We Called Love

Chapter 3

CLAIRE

I thought I hated surprises. I was wrong. I was not built for every kind of truth. I thought confetti and balloons were the worst surprises.

It turns out a living, breathing ghost is a far more effective party trick. A truly catastrophic one is a man who lies about his family, and then you stumble upon a skeleton in his closet.

I need air, need space to clear my head. Stay calm, not recalling the sick feeling of being lied to for two good years. I trusted Levi; I believed everything he told me. I was certain he was the right man for me, like he's good enough in most important areas. He’s loving, kind, and treats me right. He's not abusive, not controlling, nor dominating. He supports my career, played a big role in improving my fame, and all. So why would he keep such a secret from me? Assuming this blew up when we were already married, how would I have reacted? Would it be worse? Would the truth come out after we had a child of our own, after I had fully intertwined my life with a lie? The thought is nauseating.

I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white. The cold leather does nothing to soothe my skin, which feels hot and clammy all at once. I bolt out that door on impulse, snatching my keys from the hook. The last memory is of Sam’s blue eyes, her cruel smile, and Levi’s panicked yell as he grabs her arm, and she refuses to budge, rooted to my couch, unbothered. She's f*****g strong for a woman. Was she a former wrestler or something?

All I know is she did all that on purpose. Leaving her phone behind and sharing that small bit of information to confuse me. That woman is a recipe for disaster; I can feel it in my bones.

I checked the rearview mirror, just a glance, anything to distract myself from drowning in my suffocating thoughts again. And that’s when I see it.

A red truck behind me, a few feet away, coming at a steady pace. My heart gives a little flutter, a nervous hiccup, but I shrug it off, dismissing it. It's just a truck; it's not like it's tailing me.

I turn the corner, my mind going back to the chaos I just fled. The sheer audacity of that woman, Sam, to just… show up. And what the hell was Levi's cryptic explanation about? It’s like he's trying to get the words out, but they won't come. He's acting like a coward all of a sudden.

The sick feeling in my stomach returns. I take another turn, a different route than usual. I don't even know where I'm going; I'm driving in circles to clear my head.

I glance in the rearview mirror again. The red truck is still there, a little closer this time. My hands tighten on the wheel. Okay, maybe not so common after all. Is it following me?

At first, the thought is a ridiculous little flicker of paranoia. My mind tells me it's a coincidence, a trick of the light. But with every turn I make, the red truck makes the same turn. When I speed up, so does it. But when I slow down, everything changes.

It surges forward, closing the distance between us in a terrifying burst of speed. The sudden roar of the engine sends my heart flying into my throat. My hands begin to tremble violently on the steering wheel, eyes darting wildly between the rearview mirror and the road ahead as I jam my foot to the floor. My car lurches forward in a desperate bid for escape, but it’s no use. Ten seconds. That’s all it took before the truck slams into my car.

The force of the collision throws me forward against my seatbelt. I scream as the car lurches violently to the left, fishtailing out of control as I fight to keep it on the road.

My head's spinning. My heart's racing.

I can't swerve, can't take a sharp turn, can't make an escape. There's a dead end. I keep slamming on the brakes, but it’s all pointless; the car skids and collides into the railings. Metal crushing is the last thing I hear before everything goes dark. Silent.

Suddenly, it's hazy; muffled sounds seep into my ears. Wails… whispers. I can't make sense of it.

My head feels like a thousand tiny hammers are pounding inside it, and a coppery taste fills my mouth. I try to move, to sit up, but a sharp, excruciating pain shoots through my arm, and I fall back.

Something hovers over me, a figure. I think it has a face, a blurred halo of light. A man's voice calls out to me. Is it Levi? No, the voice is too rough, too unfamiliar. The figure is saying something, but the words dissolve into mush. I try to speak; all that comes out is a weak, raspy groan before a pair of strong arms wrap around me.

*****

I wake up to a pair of brown eyes staring back at me. Watery. Red.

Levi?

Why does his eyes look like the life is sucked out of them?

My lips quiver, but no words come out. Maybe they did, and it's just my ears ringing, and I can't hear myself.

“Claire?“ He rasps, blinking rapidly before locking me in an embrace, face buried in my neck, body slumped into mine. Chest to chest. His breathing a hot slap on my skin and at the same time a strange sense of warmth, comfort, and protection only he supplies.

I lean in, succumbing.

I'm still angry at him, though.

“Don't do that again. Okay? Don't f*****g give me a heart attack!“ He whimpers, tightening his grip on me.

Is he… crying?

I feel the dampness of his tears on my neck and the low sobs that shake his frame. He’s not letting go, holding me firmly, as if he’s afraid if he loosens his grip, I’ll disappear.

He pulls back just enough to look at me. Seems he wants to add something but stops himself at the last second. Furrowing his brow, he gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. His touch is light, almost reverent. He looks at me for a long, silent moment, tracing every line of my face, as if memorizing it.

Finally, his voice returns. “Thank God you're okay now.“

I blink, frown. Blink again. Then it hits me.

The truck, the accident. I passed out. I felt someone, and I'm here. With Levi.

My head. I lift my arm to touch my head.

It feels heavy as lead, but I manage to feel the bandages wrapped tightly around it. I trail a finger down my face until it scrapes against something rough and tender. Pushing myself up slightly, ignoring the sharp protest from my body, I ask.

“My face? Is it bruised? As in badly bruised? Does the media know? Does anyone know? And who brought me to the hospital? Was it you or someone else…?“

“Claire.“ Levi squeezes my shoulder, the calming effects losing their touch. I shrug his hands off, dabbing my face over and over, feeling every texture of my skin.

“What is wrong with my face?“

“Claire—”

“I'm a model; I can't lose my face—”

“Claire!“ Levi's voice rises, snapping me to attention. Then he says softly, “Nothing is wrong with your face. You only hit your head, and you'll be fine. Okay?“

I sigh, before slapping his shoulders. “Then why were you crying earlier? I thought something bad happened to me.“

“Crying?“ He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Was I crying? I wasn't... crying. Why would I cry? You're safe. You're going to recover and come home… soon...” His voice drops an octave in the last sentence; his smile fades, and then silence falls.

Come home? Really?

I pull away from him, lay back on the bed, yanking the blanket from under his weight and tossing myself to the other side. The wall.

I hear him sigh. “You hungry?“

I don't answer.

“Let me get you something to eat. Be right back.“ He says, leaning down to kiss my cheeks. I still don't move, don't flinch, just there like a statue until I hear the door click shut.

I turn to the door, managing to adjust my position when the door begins to pull open.

I hold my breath. Did he forget something? It’s too soon for Levi to be back from the cafeteria.

A man steps into the room, and I immediately assume it's one of the night doctors. But he stops just past the frame, his posture stiff, and he’s wearing a perfectly tailored dark gray suit. No scrubs, no hospital ID, and definitely no white coat.

He’s tall, incredibly tall, with broad shoulders that seem to fill the doorway.

He smiles at me.

My brain short-circuits.

He steps closer. “Claire?”

I sit up. “Who are you?”

And what's with the accent?

A brief flash of confusion crosses his face, but it quickly disappears.

“It's me, Zeke.”