Both Sides of the Tide by Shelby Louise

Author:Shelby Louise [Louise, Shelby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2024-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE TRUTH (THE PAST)

Iam six drinks in when Amy finally shows up. Her golden hair flows atop her shoulders, covering the strap of a bright red bag wrapped around her. The alcohol gives me needed encouragement to confront her. I’ve been jittery all day, waiting for this moment. Who knew alcohol was the solution to my anxiety all along? I set her journal on the table between us and slide it over to her.

“Care for a drink?” I ask. She’s eyeing the empty glasses around me that our waiter has neglected to pick up.

“Is there anything left? Looks like the taps could be dry.” She grins.

“You’re funny.” I mutter flatly. “Does Collin ever tell you how funny you are?”

She pulls her head back and twists her face up in confusion.

“All the time, actually.”

Of course he fucking does.

“What do you see in me?” The question spills out of my mouth.

She blanches at my direct question.

“What do you mean?” She shifts in her seat across from me, crossing her arms to form a barrier between us.

I say nothing.

“Did you read my journal?” Her tone is harsh, questioning, like I’m the one in the wrong.

“Yeah.”

“How could you? Who do you think you are?!” She’s angry, yelling at me across the table. Some staff and customers around us have taken an interest in our squabble.

“I know who you think I am. Some rich bastard who can fund your perfect life?”

“Aidan,” she reaches out for me, but I stand, hovering over her as she cowers in her seat.

“No, you don’t get to ‘Aidan’ me. You conned me.” I smack my hand on the table and Amy stands to meet me at my level.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Oh, fuck off. I know exactly what it was like. I got it from the source, Ame. The con artist herself.” I pick up her journal and wave it in her face. She snatches it from me and slaps me, hard, across my cheek. The pressure radiates across my teeth.

“Get out!” I look to my left and notice a cook from the kitchen is pointing toward the door, telling us to leave.

Amy looks at him, horrified. “Sorry Seth.” It comes out no louder than a mere whisper. He must be a friend of Collin’s. A part of me picked this place, where he works, hoping he would be here so I could drag him into the mess he so clearly belongs in.

I’m frozen in place.

“I’d tell you to have a happy life with him, but that’s the last thing I wish for you.”

I turn to leave, experiencing some relief at my mic drop moment. I’m almost to the exit when I hear glass shatter. My head whips back towards our table, my beer glasses nothing but shiny crystals covering the floor. I blink but it takes a minute to register the scene in front of me. Amy is on the floor. She’s not moving.

A few people have begun to crouch near her, checking her pulse.

The air is buzzing around me.

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