The Lie by Natalie Wrye (most inspirational books of all time .txt) 📗

people pushing carts of all shapes and sizes.

I smile as a man is playing a harmonica, his fingers moving quickly as he plays a simple melody.

The city is so alive, so colorful, so full of life.

It's a city that's molded me, shaped me, made me into a woman.

Problem is: It's also got a way of tearing people down.

It's got a way of chipping away at your soul.

It’s got a way of making you afraid to live. And in my case, I’ve probably lived more in this weekend, than I’ve lived in a lifetime…which gives me hope.

The hope surges and the tears dry up as I pull up to my brownstone.

There are a few things I need to do before heading back to Connecticut.

And I needed to make sure I have a fresh head on my shoulders.

I have a bar to sell. A new life to lead.

And a man to go home to.

I walk through the back door, into the kitchen, and immediately let out a sigh of relief as the cool air hits my skin.

‘Oh, Domino,” I call out to my cat, “Mommy's home!”

I vaguely remember he darted away the last time I left for the bar, and I hope he's still alive.

“I'll be right in,” I call out, as a few bikers pass my house. I can’t help but feel like I’m intruding. I try to shake off these feelings while walking through the living room, past the couch, across the dining room, through the kitchen, and up the short flight of stairs.

Plugging my dead cell phone into the nearest outlet, I search for Domino's black and white spots. I find them in a corner, my manly ball of fluff giving me the look of death, as if he suspects I've found another male in my life.

I don't want to tell him he would be right.

I sink to my knees, calling after him.

“Domino,” I whisper. His eyes close, as if to say he'll be listening. “Don't give me that look. I gave you plenty of food for the weekend.”

I look down at my cat, sitting in the corner of my narrow, dark bedroom.

He's sitting up, looking at me with a bored expression. He's not even meowing.

“Oh, Domino, you have no idea what I've been through,” I mutter, as I curl up in a ball on the floor and try to ignore the dishes piled up in the sink or the red light blinking on my phone. “It's good to have you though. I missed you so much, boy. I've been so busy since I left.” I stroke his back.

He meows, and I keep talking, a confession on the tip of my lips.

At home, alone with my furball, it's easier to see things clearly, and I say all of the words I can't say when I'm with Andrew.

The words pour out of me now.

“I know.” I pet his black fur. “Mommy's been working so much lately. But I'm gonna try to make up for it. I'm gonna make up for it… And I don't know why I'm telling you this, Dom. I don't know why I'm spilling my guts to you. But I want you to know that nothing will ever change, okay? Even if I'm seeing someone.” I chuckle. “Even if I'm seeing the most unlikely someone.”

Domino stares, and I keep going.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Could you give me a break? This is hard enough already. I've been working like crazy and I'm falling for a man whose only good attribute as far as I could see was that he had a third leg hanging between his hips. Turns out that there's much more to him than just that, uh, very enjoyable third leg.”

Domino’s eyes narrow in my direction, and I slouch against my bedroom wall, my head falling back.

“Okay, Domino. But seriously, it's just not that simple. Andrew and I are…complicated. You don't know how complicated. We don't just have a physical relationship, you know? We're friends too. We've been through a lot together. When I'm with him, I feel…different.”

Domino meows, and I narrow my eyes.

“Oh, don't start. I know you're just jealous. You know it's not like that with you.”

And just when I'm ready to say more, my cell phone blares, springing back to life. Running over, I set up my cell's AI to read out the messages I've missed in the middle of a weekend of non-stop dancing, drinking and drowning in Andrew.

I grab a bag of cat food and start pouring in Domino's food bowl as I tune in.

Sophia’s message is first.

WOMAN. What is going on with you?

You never texted me back. Is everything okay?

Seriously. You’d better be getting laid. And I mean MONSTER laid, if you’re alive.

I’m giving you another five hours and then I’m calling the cops.

Sending love from Vegas.

Call me. I miss your face!

I smile as the message ends. The next one throws me for a loop.

Hey. It’s me. Eric…

The guy you went on a date with before you disappeared.

I haven’t heard from you. And you haven’t been at the bar, so I don’t know what’s going on…

Call me when you see this. Or come over.

It’s been too long.

It was sent a day ago, and suddenly I feel like I’m in a daze.

My fingers brush over my phone’s screen, and I open the contacts list. My thumb hovers over his name. I have to tell him I’ve been using him, that I’ve been lying to him.

Even though Eric and I were never "official," we had still been “attempting” to date, The Alchemist’s manager and I getting close in ways that went past workplace friendly.

So, I walk over, closing the message from Eric, knowing that he’s a good guy. And also, that I’m not.

Staring at the phone, I drop onto my bedroom armchair, wishing I had a shot of whiskey. I set that thought aside to drink later and start idly messaging Sophia.

Me: It's me. The missing woman. I'm back in commission. I think… I am the worst best friend.

Sophia messages me back.

SOPH: