Page 121 of This Beautiful Lie
“Mason—”
“No, listen to me! I saw it with my own eyes. She’s not who she says she is?—”
“I KNOW WHO SHE IS.” Dean’s voice came loud, sharp, cutting Mason off before he could finish.
The room went silent.
“What?” Mason’s voice finally broke. “What do you mean?”
Dean hesitated, then I heard the sound of his exhale. “I…” His voice faltered. “I hired her.”
The air left the room.
“Youwhat?”
“I hired her,” Dean repeated, quieter this time. “She’s… an escort.” The word came out flat, stripped of emotion or feeling. “I hired her to pretend to be my fiancée. That’s it.”
Mason went silent for a long time after that. Long enough for the soft hum of the refrigerator to become loud in the background.
“You—Jesus, Dean. What thehellwere you thinking?”
Dean exhaled again. “I thought if I looked like I was in love, Grandpa would stop worrying about me so much. It was a stupid mistake.”
The words hit like a blow—even though deep down a part of me knew they were coming.
I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to stop the scream that wanted to claw its way out of my throat.It was a stupid mistake.
Mason didn’t speak at first, but when he finally did, his voice was softer. “Dean… what the fuck did you do?”
I didn’t stay for the rest. I couldn’t.
A door creaked open behind me, and a staff member came into the hall with a rolling cart. I stumbled backward, heart hammering in my ears as panic sliced through my chest. I bolted down the hall, and the sound of their muffled voices followed me as I pushed out the side door and out of the building.
The sunlight hit me like a slap in the face. I ran down the steps, past the trees, my vision blurring through the tears I wouldn’t let fall—until my knees gave way and I crashed to the earth.
A strangled sob tore from my throat as bile surged up. I doubled over, shaking uncontrollably as everything inside me poured into the dirt—grief, shame, humiliation. But most of all, the wreckage of what I’d let myself believe. That beneath all the pretending there was somethingreal.That under all the lies,there wasus—something fragile and impossible and real enough to save.
But there wasn’t. There never had been. It was just another story I’d made up in my head, like all the others.
The truth hit harder than the fall. I pressed my palms into the cold ground, my breath breaking in uneven gasps as the taste of bile filled my mouth. Tears streamed down my face, hot against my cheeks.
For a long time, I just stayed there—knees in the mud, body trembling, the world tilting around me—until the sobs finally gave way to silence. Numbness eventually dulled the pain, and I forced myself to stand.
There was no coming back from this.
No way to face his family.
No way to keep pretending.
My hands trembled as I forced myself upright. My body moved before my mind could even comprehend where I was going, I was already running, crashing through the brushes toward the cabins.
When I burst through the door, George let out a startled bark before he realized it was me. I went straight for the phone, gripping the receiver so tight it dug into my palm, and dialed John and Tuesday’s cabin.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
“Yeah?” John’s voice came through the receiver, low, groggy.
“We’re leaving,” I said, my voice ragged.
