CHAPTER 70

“I’ll ask you one thing, and then we can finish this… date?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you treat Berky like you did? You knew she wasn’t interested in either of you and she tried to leave.

Why did you stop her? And then why see her again if you weren’t interested?”

He shifts. “They’re pretty big questions, Sarah.”

“They’re pretty big issues, William.”

William rubs his hand across his face. “I’ve spent years not thinking about this shit, then the past four months with my head full of it. The ‘what ifs’, the ‘why the fuck did I do thats’. I have no excuses.”

“The most important thing to me right now is that you understand what was wrong with your behavior. If you can’t see that, then Berky’s right about one thing — a man who can treat a woman like that will never change.”

“What was wrong? Nothing I did was right. I thought I did the right thing after the night at the party by checking up on her, but I just fucked things up further.

I let her believe she meant something to me because I worried she’d make a complaint about me and Jem. Steve told me to be nice to her, hoping she wouldn’t take things further, but the plan backfired.”

Steve. Of course, his hand is in all this.

“Backfired?”

“Fuck. Okay. Things went too far and we had sex. At that point, she thought she meant something to me because I’d visited her a few times.

Back then, I didn’t do relationships and would take everything I was offered.” He picks at his meal and his words turn my stomach away from eating. It’s as if he’s describing a different man.

“Jem was fucking obsessed with her. Like I said, when he found out, he went straight to Berky and told her I was using her to get back at him.”

“Were you?”

“Sarah, I could sit and talk to you about this for hours, and I don’t think you’ll understand everything. But please, take away this: I was a stupid, fucked up, arrogant dickhead who didn’t think how his actions would fuck up other people. I couldn’t see beyond the edge of my ego. I deserved what I got from Berky. I put her in that position with Jem.”

“That sounds deliberate!”

William sets his fork down and rests his head in one of his hands, elbow on the table. His lack of response sends a shiver through.

“Okay. The truth.” His voice flattens. “I still wanted to be the one she said yes to. I wanted to win against Jem. So, in the drunken moment at her flat, when things reached the point they did, that was in my mind. After we’d finished, I walked away.” He inhales.

“Tell me who you think was the abuser in the whole situation. Jem or me? And I fucking hate myself for who that makes me.”

I have no words. Nothing about the William Morgan I know matches the actions he’s describing. This is why he couldn’t tell me. My appetite gone, I push the polystyrene container away, dizzied by the two versions of William in my head.

I didn’t want to believe Berky, and in the center of my being, the place where William connects to me, I know he didn’t rape her. What I am certain of is he abused her.

William takes a drink from his can. “I don’t think any of what I’m saying is helping my cause?”

“You’re telling the truth.”

“As long as you believe that.”

“That’s not the kind of story you tell if you want to impress a girl,” I say softly.

“If it makes any difference, I hate myself for every decision I made from the evening of the party to how I treated her.

Pretty much from the moment I saw how much damage I’d done, I thought I deserved the accusation. I used her — once by handing her over to Jem and then again by using her to win a game against him.”

“You’re not that man,” I say to him. “Not now. If you believe you’re still him, then you’re holding yourself back.”

“I fucked up.”

“Morally, not legally. And the fact you’re cut up about your actions shows me you realize that.” I pause and tentatively place my hand over William’s. “Why did you wait four months to tell me?”

“Lots of reasons. I switched off. I didn't think you'd believe me over Berky, and that the truth I’ve told you is as bad.

I wanted to keep the memories of Sarah who looked at me as if I was special, and not have my last memories of you hating me. Instead, I switched off and ran. I was out of the country and I could pretend you didn’t exist.”

I wince and William curls his fingers around my hand. “I couldn’t though; you were with me every day.”

“You denied me the chance to make up my mind,” I say, “If anything that upsets me the most.”

“More than what I told you?”

“Yes,” I said truthfully and put my hand over his.

The thread that joined our lives, that tangled us together when we crossed paths, thinned with the distance between us, but never broke.

I half-understand why he couldn’t tell me, but this was years ago. If he can’t let go of his past and allows himself to be dragged down by the man he no longer is, he’s lost. We were both stuck the day we met, both needing to grow up and move on.

He needs to leave Blue Phoenix and I need to leave Bristol. My inner struggle matches his—the need to let go of everything I know.

We head back towards the car, too cold for a walk around town. Despite the conversation, the awkwardness hasn’t left. The William Effect is no less prevalent than it was, and when he slips his hand in mine, I shift so I’m closer to him as we walk.

William and Sarah can start again, but we need to make a lot more changes.