He’s missed countless court dates and has outstanding warrants in Montana.
He’s gotten fired from many, many jobs.
Kicked out of friends’ houses.
He’s had physical altercations with his brother and countless other people.
He’s had several restraining orders against him from girlfriends, including one involving children.
He cares for no-one but himself. And he doesn’t do that very well.
You don’t know me, Margaux.
But you HAVE to get out of this.
The words blur as I read them, my vision swimming. It feels like a cruel confirmation of everything I already know, but up until now have refused to face.
I glance at Timmy through the window. He’s pacing, gesticulating wildly, his face red and contorted.
Alice’s text flashes on my screen.
Alice:
This is your sign. You have to leave. You can’t wait anymore.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I clutch my phone.
I know she’s right.
CHAPTER 97
SEEING CLEARLY (& THE VIEW ISN’T GREAT)
MARGAUX
Iglance at Timmy, his voice piercing the night as he continues to shriek at the police.“Lock her up! She deserves it!I am avictimof herabuse!”
For the first time, Itrulysee him.
He’s standing in nothing but a pair of tattered board shorts, his body covered in self-inflicted scratches and bruises.
One massive gouge stretches across his back—a trophy from when he threw himself into the ocean during a storm, letting the waves batter him against the reef to ‘punish’ me.
He looks filthy. His hair, matted and knotted, hangs around his unshaven face. The soles of his feet are black, as if he’s been trudging through soot. His eyes are glassy, his pupils unfocused, his movements erratic and jerky.
This isn’t the cute and charming, carefree surfer I first met.
That man, I now realize, never existed. That version of Timmy was an illusion, a carefully crafted act designed to lure me in. He had showered, brushed his hair, and smiled at me that day, convincing me he was someone else—someone worth loving.Someone I deserved.
Me:
I just saw him for the first time.
Really saw him.
And he looks awful, like he lives on the street.
Alice: