He Loved My Fake Self Chapter 18

He Loved My Fake Self Chapter 18

Funny thing

It was the first time Peyton and I ever had a real, face-to-face conversation.

He paced. Back and forth. Finally forced the words out

“When she asked for my Facebook, she said it was for her. So I assumed she was the one messaging me

He was terrified I’d stop listening. The words came out fast.

“It wasn’t love at first sight. She hounded me for a week. I was annoyed. That was why I gave in.

“I figured someone as boring as me… she’d get tired of me fast. Same as every other girl. But she you

always had something new to say. You made me excited to check my phone.

“I started waiting for your messages. Just talking to you about whatever.”

He looked me in the eye. Dead serious.

“The person I liked-it was always you. The one who was kind and genuine. From the very beginning.”

I stood there, stunned.

Because I’d never expected this moment to come.

Jolene had been so confident. They’d already bought a place together, planning to move in after graduation.

Eventually Peyton and I would’ve stopped crossing paths. The truth would’ve stayed buried.

Nobody expected it to unravel like this. On a night that was supposed to be perfect.

I took a breath.

“There were so many times I could’ve told you the truth. I didn’t want to anymore.

“Because every time you hurt me without even knowing it, a little more of what I felt for you died.

“I spent a year getting to know everything about you. You never once paid attention to me

“I told you I can’t eat cilantro or I’ll puke. You don’t remember.

“The time I ran into you-you should’ve recognized me. My hair tie. My jacket. My perfume I shared all of it

with you. But you didn’t remember a single thing. You didn’t even suspect

I glanced back at Kyle, standing tense in the hallway, and something in me eased

I looked at Peyton again.

“You didn’t like me.

“You liked having someone completely devoted to you. You liked being worshipped And honestly, Peyton, you seemed pretty happy these last few months with Jolene doing exactly that.

“So what’s with the tragic act now?”

His face crumpled. His lips trembled.

“No. Clover. I really did like you. If Jolene hadn’t lied-”

He never finished.

The police arrived.

Jolene’s surgery was over. The metal piece had cut deep and wide. The scarring, the doctor said, was

permanent.

Peyton had shoved her. Peyton had caused it. He was taken in on assault charges.

“Clo.” Kyle pulled me against him, watching the cruiser lights flash.

He said something out of nowhere.

“I wrote you dozens of letters in high school. Why didn’t you ever write back?”

I thought he was joking. I smiled along.

But Kyle stayed dead serious, voice small and hurt. “If you didn’t want to respond, that’s fine. But you didn’t

even remember my name.”

My smile faltered.

Something clicked.

“Wait. You mean senior year?”

He nodded without hesitation.

I wanted to disappear into the floor.

“My parents knew I was shy. They were worried senior stress would mess me up; they both got themselves

transferred to teach my grade. My dad taught math. My mom taught lit.

“Your love letters… they probably sold them to the recycling truck.”

Kyle nodded slowly.

The tension in his jaw eased.

He tilted his head, all sharp cheekbones and infuriatingly gorgeous eyes, and asked me with absolute

sincerity.

“Is it too late to change my name? What kind of names do your parents like? How about Stan? I can tell them

I picked it after getting into Stanford.”

I looked into those honest, earnest eyes.

Grabbed his face.

Kissed him hard.

He caught on fast, kissing back even harder.

Between breaths, he murmured, “Clo, I’m glad I found you again.”

And I thought to myself.

Yeah. Thanks, Peyton.