Ivy: Wow, his voice. It's even better live. 

Isla: All of him. I've never fangirled, but I might start tonight. *rushes to add the bands' songs.* Ava, do you like it?

Ivy: Ava?

Isla: Ava, I know you don't follow the trends that much, but admit it. He's insanely good. Those lyrics…

Ivy: Makes me regret skipping the concert. I should've bought the ticket. *cries* 

Isla: Tasha, you're lucky. Ask him for an autograph.

Ivy: one for Ava, another one for me. Right, Ava? 

Isla: Ava? 

Ten missed calls.

An autograph.

I wiped at my eyes and stared at my laptop screen. This time, Jim was with Riley White. One of my favorite actresses. 

My gaze fell on his hand on the small of her back and then shifted to another image in which Jim was smiling at her.

Why wouldn't he? She was stunning, and they were at an event together — probably one of his "work things" he didn't want to bore me with. Didn't want me to know about, more likely.

I was his cute little thing, a.k.a his dirty little secret. 

He hadn't seen the text yet. The show was over, but there would be a Meet and Greet with the fans. 

I'd asked myself many questions since Tasha sent the video. Did he pretend he cared about me? Did he laugh at how naive I was, fake-dating a superstar and not having a clue? Why did he go after me at the hospital?

Did Tasha know this whole time? Did she laugh at me while she planned how she would make the naive, men-hating Ava discover her boyfriend's true identity?

They exchanged numbers, after all, or so she said.

I slammed my laptop shut and buried my face in my palms. If only I could leave so that Jim wouldn't find me. Too bad Harper was out of the city at a conference.

I had nowhere to go. I didn't want to see the girls and confess the ugly, embarrassing truth about Jim and me. I didn't want anyone's company, especially not his. 

The dress I ironed for our date mocked me from the hanger. I rose from the chair and dragged my feet to the bed, where I lay staring at the ceiling, purposely avoiding looking at my phone.

I'd seen way too many images of the person who broke my heart and read too many articles about him and his success I knew nothing about.

He knew so many things about me —things I didn't dare to confess to my dad or the girls. I showed him my book and talked about my dreams, and all he did was lie.

Fresh tears leaked from my eyes. I reached for the tissues I had in the nightstand drawer but didn't get a chance to take them, jerking at the sudden noise.

The doorbell.

My heartbeat slowed down.  I waited, and the buzz resonated in my house again.

The Meet and Greet wasn't over. It had barely started. It must've been the girls. Isla was surely alarmed by my lack of responses. I was the friend who never left others on read and replied within seconds, even when I lived abroad. 

Sighing, I got up and went downstairs, hating that I would have to explain things. But if I didn't open, the girls could call my dad. 

"Ava!"

Jim's voice made me halt mid-step. 

"Open the door. Please. I know you're alone."

Knowing my love for romance and my low tolerance for anyone who disagreed with my reading choices, Dad didn't miss a chance to tease me.

"Did anyone get their heart broken, Pumpkin?" he used to ask me. "For your information, it's called stress-induced cardiomyopathy. I bet they used the wrong name in that book of yours."

Hearing Jim's voice after I'd heard his voice in that video surely felt like heartbreak. Not cardiomyopathy. Heartbreak.

Hands shaking, I unlocked the front door.

"For God's sake," Jim muttered. "You've been crying."

I lifted my eyes off the doormat with  Welcome on it and looked at him.

He looked like my Jim Eldridge, but felt like a stranger.

My rage vanished. I'd had almost two hours to break down and drown in self-pity. It drained me. Numbed me. I stared at Jim's handsome face, shaking in my thin, worn PJs. 

I was a mess, but I didn't care. There would be no date to get ready for. There was nobody to look pretty for.

"Ava, look at me."

I shook my head, hugging myself.

"Can I come in?"

"Because your fans might see you with me and recognize you?" I whispered.

"Because you're cold. Because you're shaking. And because I owe you an explanation, and we need to talk."

"You had over one hundred days to tell me the truth, Jim."

This time, I did look at him. 

Jim nodded. "I know. I also had over a hundred days to hate myself for not telling it, but I had my reasons. I was going to tell you everything tonight, Ava. When I said it was important—"

"You lied!"

Jim flinched at my harsh tone. So did I. I hardly ever raised my voice, but I wanted to shout now. I wanted to scream and stomp my feet and let it all out. 

"You lied to me, and you knew what you were doing. You used a false name and made me believe you cared."

"I do care. I care as I've never cared about anyone. Please, let me explain. Let's talk. Let's not allow this misunderstanding to ruin everything between us. Please, Ava."

Jim's fingers circled my wrist. 

I took a step back and freed myself from his grasp.

"Wait here," I said before turning around and going back into the house.

Once I was back, Jim's eyes widened when he saw what I was holding.

"No." He shook his head. "I can't let you do it. Not without talking to you. Hear me out, Ava. Please."

I reached for Jim's hand and took it in mine. Memories of his fingers caressing my skin, memories of his strong arms holding me wouldn't be easy to erase. A hundred days might not be a long time, but a hundred days with him carved themselves into my very being.

"Don't. Please, don't."

Jim's jaw trembled. I swallowed my tears and closed his fingers around the key I'd put on his palm.

"It doesn't belong to me. It never did. The person who gave it to me never existed."

Jim tried to object once more. He tried to grip my hand and pleaded with me, but it was late.

I closed the door in his face and made sure the window in my room was locked.

Then, I got under my duvet and cried my heart out.

***

The sun rose no matter what. The day was annoyingly beautiful when I woke up after barely one hour of sleep. 

I spent the night soaking my pillow with tears, thinking about Jim and his betrayal. Jim and his lies. Jim and how happy he made me feel while the lie lasted.

I wasn't ready to listen to him. Would I ever be ready?

He lied, and he knew it. There wasn't a logical explanation for what he did. No matter what he said, the truth would be the same — he led me on deliberately, used my trust and my lack of interest in pop culture to his advantage. He invented a false identity and fed me lies about what he did. Was any of what he said true?

Tears filled my eyes again. I wiped them and went to my en-suite to shower and get ready for the day.

I'd just got dressed when the doorbell broke the quiet again.

It wasn't Jim this time. Isla, Ivy, and Tasha stared at me when I opened the door.

"Come on in," I said instead of a greeting and led the way to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" Isla asked, her voice low. "You look…"

"Like crap? I know."

"What's going on?" asked Ivy. "And don't lie, Ava. It's clear you've been crying."

I leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"Did you know?"

Isla's brows scrunched up. "Know what?"

"That I've been dating Jim O'Brien."

Isla's mouth fell open, and so did Ivy's.

"You've got to be kidding me," Ivy said. "You what? Come on; I need details. How? Wha— Wow. Oh my God, Ava."

"He never told me who he was. He used a different last name and made me believe he was an ordinary guy for almost four months," I said.

This time, it was Isla who covered her mouth with her palms.

"So, I'll ask you again. Did you know?"

My eyes darted from Isla to Ivy to Tasha, searching for clues.

Ivy stared at me. "What? Of course not. You're my friend. If I knew, I would've told you."

"And you?" I asked Isla. "You asked about Fin from the band. You must have known."

"He reminded me of a boy from my childhood," Isla said. "But later, I thought it was crazy. It's been too long, and the Fin I knew looked different. I swear I had no idea, Ava."

"It's okay." I shrugged. "I shouldn't be surprised he lied. Being naive didn't help, either."

"You know guys like him," Tasha spoke for the first time since she crossed the threshold of my house. "They have all the attention in the world. Maybe he was bored and wanted to try something different."

I swallowed the bile that rose to my throat. "Did he get lots of attention at the Meet and Greet after the concert last night? You can be honest; we're over, so if you want him, he's all yours."

Tasha smirked. "So dramatic, Ava. We did talk after the concert. He was surrounded by girls, of course."

"At the Meet and Greet," I said, studying Tasha's face.

She nodded. 

I pushed off the counter and approached her. 

"What?" Tasha let out a nervous laugh when I stood in front of her with my face inches from hers.

"What?" I echoed her question. "Get the hell out of my house, you false, back-stabbing bitch, and do it now."

Thoughts?