Telling the Truth

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I had been pacing around, sitting in my car tapping my hands on the wheel anxiously. I was so freaked out to tell him, I was so upset to know everything he knew of his father would come crashing down. Harry wanted a happy ending, not this. Not this awful news. I was about to break his heart, I knew it.

I took a deep breath and got out of my car, walking up to his doors with shaking hands. I knocked twice. He smiled when he saw, but it faded.

‘Why do you look so upset?” he frowned, tucking the hair behind my ear gently as I stood in the doorway.

“I have something awful to tell you.”

“What happened?”

I sat on his couch with him, holding his hand. “Please, promise me you will listen to me, all the way through?” he nodded.

I told him everything. Every word his mother said, the letters, the cemetery, apart from the last word that was the most important to his father, I’d let him solve that one.

“I’m sorry Harry,” I choked. “I know how much you love your dad but he was the bad guy, to your mom at least. She had to get out. You can have a relationship with her, you don’t have to be alone. I think she does want to know you, she asked to see your photo. She looked at with such a maternal expression.” I wiped my eyes. “I’m sorry your dad did this to you. I’m sorry.”

He stared, a blank expression meeting mine. “Get out,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I don’t believe you.”

"How can you not believe me?"

"You're lying."

‘I’m not lying, why would I lie?”

“You fucking tell me.” He got up, throwing open the door. “Don’t sit there, get the fuck out. My dad was a good man. He died of a broken heart; he died because I wasn’t enough. Not because he was a bad man, he was a good man. Why the hell would you make this up? What is the matter with you? Is this some game?”

“N-No, I swear to G-God,” I stood up. “I haven’t l-lied. The p-proof is in those l-letters. He was sick, he was vi-violent. He hated women. He a-adored you but ran your mother out, got her p-pregnant so she was forced to depend on him-"

“Shut the hell up Finley.” he spoke so quietly, so eerily, every hair on the back of my neck rose. “Get out of my house. Get out of my life.’

“You’re b-breaking up with m-me?”

“Yes, I am. I shouldn’t have dated a girl like you. My dad was right; you never give a woman the power to break you. Get the fuck out.”

I shook my head and wiped my eyes. “G-Go to his grave if you don’t b-believe me. Read the inscription on his stone, he had n-nothing further to say, to you, his son Harry. The first h, a, r, r and y are subtly capitalized to spell out your name. His last c-cry was for you to know the truth, to know what an a-awful man he was to your mother. H-He didn’t want you to e-ever be like him, he didn’t want you to i-idolize him any longer, he didn’t want you to l-live in any more l-lies and love a monster. I can't b-believe you just broke up with me." I stormed out, wiping my wet eyes.

I hurried home, so hurt by what he said. How could he talk to me like that? Yell at me like that, he knows that kills me. How could he ever even think I’d lie to him? What reason did I have to lie? I had no motivation to mislead him. I cared for him; I may have even been falling in love with him. I still wasn’t sure what that meant, but I felt like how close Harry were getting… we could have been there. We could have been each other’s first loves.

I was back to where I started in this town. I was completely alone, timid as hell, and never, ever talking to anyone again.

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