The Lies We Tell
Chapter 6
EMMA
I watch the building from across the street, waiting to make sure Michael actually leaves for work. My hands tremble in nervous anticipation. I have to find the right way to explain things, before he gets angry and walks out on me. I need him to believe me. I need someone to believe me. But it's not going to be easy. He knows Michael. Or at least he thinks he does, so naturally he will be inclined to take his side. Just as I would have, if I were in his shoes.
Finally, I spot Michael's Corvette leaving the parking garage. Five minutes later, Cole walks out of the building, enters the coffee shop and takes a seat. I take a deep breath and rub my belly for good luck. I'm not sure what I'm hoping to get out of this. Some understanding I suppose. And a warning. I wish someone had warned me when I met Michael. Then I could have avoided all of this hurt and pain. If I can help one person, maybe it will all be worth it.
I walk across the streetÑmy hands clammy now. I open the door and walk over to his table. He looks surprised to see me.
"Haven't we met before?" he asks, studying my face intently. I nod. "Yes, I remember now. Take a seat," he says, looking at my belly. I sit down.
"Why are you stalking me?" he asks calmly.
"I'm not stalking you," I reply, embarrassed. "I've wanted to talk to you about the situation, I wanted to explain everything from my perspective. Whatever he told you about me, it's all a lie."
"Well, I just recently found out about you if I'm being honest. And as far as I know there is no situation to speak of. Not anymore. You two are broken up. So all that's left to do is for you to move on with your life and stop harassing me. Stop calling, stop following me, and stop sabotaging my wedding," he says, and I feel my cheeks get hot. "I understand breakups can be hard, but this isn't normal behavior," he states as nicely as he can.
"Well, it's kind of hard to move on when I'm carrying his child," I reply bitterly, and he seems momentarily confused. I rub my belly.
"That'sÉare you telling me that's Michaels child?" he asks. Disbelief covers his face. I'm losing him, and it's happening fast. 3, 2, 1 and he's going to walk out. I have to do something to make him believe. To make him understand I didn't make any of this up.
"It is, he wanted me to have an abortion, but I didn't," I stammer out, trying to make a cohesive statement.
"He told me you were crazyÉbut this, this is on another level," he shakes his head.
"He's not who you think he is. He acts one way, but he's rotten inside. He uses people. He's a narcissist. He used me. He took all my savings and then left me," I start crying. He stares at me for a moment.
"I don't believe you, you're trying to trap him into a relationship. LadyÉEmma, whatever your name is, you need to move on with your life and focus on your baby," he says, getting up. "And you need to leave us alone. I don't want to have to call the police."
"I'm not lying, I swear. He used to hit me. He's going to hurt you too, eventually. He's not a good man!" I raise my voice and grab him by the hand as people begin to stare.
"Please, for the sake of your baby, you need to get help," he replies, rips his hand away, and leaves the cafŽ.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.