What Did Drew Do In Tell Me Lies Novels & Stories

“Can I record this conversation so I can reference it later?” He laughed at me. “Uh, no. Why would you need to do that?” “Because you keep lying to me!” I proclaimed, frustrated. I shouldn’t have asked. I should’ve come into the room with my phone set to record. “Cass, I’m not lying to you, I promise. I have been saying a few things to reassure you that everything’s going to turn out okay. But, for the most part, it’s not been lies.” “So, Drew really fell rock climbing and cut her throat?” I folded my arms and tipped my head in such a way to get my point across.

“You can’t be pregnant right? You’re not even capable of carrying a child so please tell me he’s lying!” He looks like the man I saw years ago bleeding on the pavement. His face is pale, there are tears trailing down his eyes, and his voice is broken. Only difference is he’s not dying from a knife wound this time. That stung, but I don’t have the time to dwell on it because he hits the table and asks if I’m pregnant again. “The thing is…I…am…” It’s my turn to stutter now. “Why are you acting like you did something wrong?” Drew tells me softly. “Go ahead and tell him, maybe it’ll help him move on.”

I began carefully forcing my voice to stop shaking, "I know you're probably mad about what happened earlier but I guess you've taken your anger out already.” His eyes darkened, “At least now you have a chance to clear your name,” I continued, “I don't, and that's okay. Perfectly fine by me." Was it? I swallowed. “That's the consequences of my lie anyway,” I said but he said nothing. He walked behind his desk, opened a drawer and brought out a pack of cigarette. The sound of foil tearing echoed loudly in the quiet room and he lit one slowly. Smoke curled around him, blurring his features. “I have to go,” I said finally.

“Then, I read this. That man lost almost everything. The world around him fell apart, and he just kept going. So, I thought, if he could keep living after all that, what excuse did I have to give up?” She shifted slightly in her wheelchair and nodded toward the empty space beside her. “Want to sit for a minute?” So, I sat down. Sunlight streamed through the window and warmed the blanket that draped across her knees. “What about you?” she asked. “What happened?” I sat there in silence for a long time. It was long enough that she probably thought I was not going to answer. “I was lied to for five years,” I said. “I lost my career, my relationship, and my family. My dad died because of me.”