Lies Unspoken

I lay it back in the drawer where I found it and search the apartment for my phone. He can’t just leave like this . . . he’d tell me. As soon as I spot it on the counter, I hit the button to light up the screen. Nothing. No texts. No voicemails.

I have to know . . . I have to try.

Lila: I’m worried about you. Where are you?

Staring at the bright blue digital clock on the microwave, I wait five minutes. Nothing comes. Desperate, I dial the one person who might be able to help me.

“Merry Christmas,” she answers, sounding extra chipper.

“Mallory, I need your help.”

“What happened?” she asks, picking up on the tone of my voice. “Oh my God. I almost forgot about today. It’s Blake, isn’t it?”

My heart beats rapidly. I hate the tone in her voice. “What do you mean? What’s today?”

She whimpers. “I can’t believe I forgot. Have you seen him yet?”

“No,” I answer, losing some of my patience. “That’s why I’m calling you.”

She’s silent for several long seconds. When she finally speaks, her voice is low. “You need to find him.”

“Where’s his studio?”

I find a piece of paper and write down exactly what she says. I hope he’s there. If he’s not, I don’t know what I’ll do.

“When are you going?” she asks.

“I’m going to call a cab as soon as I get off the phone with you. Mallory,” I say, making sure I have her full attention, “can you please tell me what all this is about?”

“He lost someone who was very special to him three years ago today. He’s probably thinking about her . . . searching for something that reminds him of her. Honestly, Lila, you’re the first person he’s let in since her, and there’s got to be a reason for that. You need to find him.”

“How do you know he’s let me in?”

“Because you care. If you only saw the side of him he lets everyone else see, you wouldn’t.”

I pause, thinking back to how Blake was when I first met him, and how he’s changed. “I’ll call you when I find him. I didn’t mean to scare you, but he usually says something before disappearing. This time, there was nothing.” Tears well in my eyes when I think about the promise he made me last night. Didn’t take him long to break it. “Is he going to be all right?”

She breathes out heavily into the phone. “I hope so.”

Before hanging up the phone, she makes me promise at least three times that I won’t forget to call her.

While putting a call out to the cab company, I quickly grab my coat and purse. I don’t recall taking the stairs or walking out the building. My eyes are trained on the street waiting for yellow. A few minutes feel like hours. I climb inside, wasting no time reading the address Mallory gave me.

I slouch down in the seat, playing every scenario over and over in my head. Every part of me wants to be pissed off at him, but Mallory’s words and sorrow reside in the forefront of my mind.

There are pieces of Blake I still don’t have, that is obvious, but I can’t shake this feeling. The way he kissed me. The way his hands traveled every inch of my skin . . . I thought it meant something, but it turns out, it was all lies unspoken.

He made a promise to me, and he already broke it.

Tears fall from my cheeks as we finally pull into an industrial park—not an area I’d run off to if I had a choice. “Can you wait here?” I ask, noticing there aren’t any people around.

He points to the meter. I nod; I’ve lived here long enough to know that he’s going to charge me for every minute I spend inside the tall brick building.

My heart races as I climb out of the car and up the metal stairs. He’s either here, or he’s not. I haven’t decided what I’m going to say if he is. My mind is a complicated jigsaw puzzle, unable to fit a piece in until I can see the edges.

I turn the cold metal knob, holding my breath. Surprisingly, it’s unlocked . . . he has to be here. I slowly step inside, like there are shards of glass I’m trying to walk over. It’s dark and quiet . . . neither a good sign.

I flip on the light, and a pit instantly forms in my stomach. There’s not a single breath of life. Nothing. I go farther, opening the door to the small studio we’d spent so much time in when I was last here. The happy memory now burns—everything hurts without him here.

Unable to think about it anymore, I close the door. I’m about to walk back outside when I remember the painting—the one that mirrors the picture in Blake’s room. I know the pain behind his eyes has to do with her.

When its edges come into view, I’m paralyzed. It’s not her at all . . . it’s me. Looking into the mirror, I’m lying in a sea of blankets, one pulled just above my breasts. My red hair fans out, framing my face. My expression is sleepy, yet content, my eyes staring into whoever looks at the painting. It’s beautiful; it’s the first time I’ve ever seen myself as more than ordinary.

“Blake!” I cry out, covering my mouth in an attempt to regain control. It’s no use. I stare at it for what feels like forever, memorizing every last detail. It leaves me feeling more confused than I was just minutes ago.

He wants me, then he doesn’t.

He makes me believe that he’s everything, then he’s nothing at all.

He tells me all the things I want to hear, then takes it all back.

I gave my heart to the wrong guy, or at least that’s what I thought until I saw this. It means something—a sliver of hope.

My mind races as I run back out to the waiting cab. Where would he go? Looking at my phone, I still have no new messages or texts. My knees shake as I glare out the window at the passing buildings. I play the events of the last few weeks in my head. Chicago. Blake. It’s been such a winding road, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to let it end here.

The journey takes me to Pierce, and it hits me. I quickly find his name in my phone and hold my breath waiting for him to answer.

One ring, then two . . .”Hello.” His voice is hesitant.

“I need your help.”

“What is it? Where are you?”

“You said you would tell me,” I answer, trying to swallow back my emotions.

“Tell you what? What’s going on?” His voice is panicked.

“About Alyssa. You said if I asked him, you would tell me the rest.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Where are you?”

“In a cab.”

Another pause. “Have the driver take you to Saint Mary’s. I’ll be waiting.”

“The church?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” I hang up without another word. Time moves slowly before we pull in front of the massive church.

I throw money at the driver and step on the sidewalk, taking a deep, cleansing breath before walking up the cement stairs. There’s a part of me that wants to know the truth and another that doesn’t. Once it’s heard, I know it won’t easily be forgotten.

I walk down the aisle of the dimly lit chapel, sca

“Is this how you always spend Christmas?” I ask as I approach him.

“It’s how I’ve spent the last three.”

“You don’t look good,” I say honestly, taking a seat next to him. I hope it doesn’t have to do with me, and everything that happened last night. My heart can’t take it.

He shrugs. “I wasn’t pla

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“None of that matters right now. I have other things on my mind.”

I nod. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I take it Blake didn’t tell you everything he should have.”

My heart pounds, begging for escape. “Where is she?”

He lowers his head, ru