I Unlove You (35 page)

Read I Unlove You Online

Authors: Matthew Turner

Tags: #coming of age, #love story, #literary fiction, #contemporary romance, #new adult, #mature young adult

BOOK: I Unlove You
10.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub


Do you remember my buddy,
Barry?


The hacker?

He nods.


What have you done, Joey? What
is this?

He
edges closer and drops the folder on the cushion.

I followed
her. I went to her house, followed her, and
couldn

t believe what I saw. So I asked Barry to help
me dig deeper, because nothing made sense.

He grabs my
shoulder.

I promise, Aus. I assumed it was a one-time fling,
something she regrets.


What the
hell

s going on, Joey?

I ask, my lips quivering and voice
soft.


Just know I
didn

t think I

d find this. I need
you to know that. I

d never have looked,
I promise. If I knew
…”


Joey,
please,

I say, taking a deep breath.


I went to her house and sat
outside for hours. Nobody came and nobody left. I
didn

t see her mum, and I didn

t see
B
, but I
knew someone was in because of the shadows and
movement.


I waited. I
didn

t know why I was there because I knew I
wouldn

t find anything. I was angry, you know? I wanted
answers, because I hate seeing you like this. It

s not
right, and this is
B
we

re talking about.
There had to be something, so I waited and
waited.

He
sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair.

At about three in the
morning she left. Wearing a long black mac I

d never
seen her wear before, she walked to the end of the street and
around the corner, so I followed her. I couldn

t believe
it, because I honestly didn

t think
I

d see or find anything, but she approached this black
Mercedes with blacked-out windows.


She hopped into the back seat
and it drove off, so I followed it. I still didn

t think
anything, but then we headed towards Bradford. I had an awful
feeling in the pit of my stomach, because why would she go to
Bradford in the middle of the night? We never go there. She
doesn

t have any friends who live in Bradford. And why
get into a random car like that?


Eventually, it parked down some
side street, and I watched her get out with some guy
I

ve never seen before. She went through the back door,
but when I walked up to it a few minutes later, it was locked. So I
went round to the front, and that

s when I realised
what the place was.

He
sighs again, clasping his nose with two tense fingertips.

It was a
lap-dancing club, Aus. And not the kind you

d go to on a
stag do.


I couldn

t believe
it. I stood in the entrance, not knowing what to do. I
didn

t want to go in, but I couldn

t
not
go in, either. You
deserve answers. I hate seeing you like this. I deserve them, too,
because I

ve known her as long as you. None of this made
any sense, and this is
B
, after all, and maybe
she was in trouble. I shouldn

t have gone in,
but
…”


Joey,

I whisper.

What are
you talking about?


I couldn

t find
her. It wasn

t a big place, but
she was nowhere to be seen. So I got a drink and told the barman I
was meeting someone, but couldn

t see
her.


He didn

t look at me,
just pointed towards a blue door by the side of the stage. There
were only a few people in the main room, but nobody looked anyone
in the eye. The barman looked at his shoes. The bouncers stared off
into the distance. The girls looked through people, vacant eyes
and

I

ve been in some shitty places before, but
nothing like this.


Anyway, I walked up to the door
and stood in front of it for a few seconds. I
didn

t want to go in, brother. I had no idea what was on
the other side, but I knew it couldn

t be good. Yet maybe
she needed me. I could barely breathe, but I opened it and walked
through, and wandered down that shitty, filthy
hallway.


I

ve never seen
anything like it. As I peeked through each door, I saw old men fuck
young women, husbands watching their wives get man-handled by
someone else, and swingers, and God knows what else. Loud music
filled the entire hallway, because who would want to hear that shit
going on in the room next door? Hell, who would want to hear that
shit going on in their own room?


I reached the end of the
hallway, and as I looked through the door I saw the random guy from
outside. He sat upright as some girl straddled him and arched her
neck up to the ceiling, and on the floor next to his feet was the
black mac
B
left the house in. All of a sudden I realised it was her:
her hair, bundled up into a knot like she usually does when it gets
in her face; those bony shoulders I

ve seen a million
times before; the handbag you bought her last Christmas, on its
side by her coat.

He
looks at me, red-eyed and pale faced. I feel nothing, unaware if
I

m even able to breathe.


I felt light-headed and sick,
so I darted back out of that place and got into my car. I just
drove, sweating and shaking all over, but I
wouldn

t believe it. It couldn

t have been
her, because this is
B
. There

s no way it
could.


This isn

t funny,
Joe,

I stutter, running my hand through my hair.

Is this
some kind of joke?


You think I

d joke
about this? You think I

d make something
like this up? Here,

he spits out, flinging the green folder at
me.


What?

I shrug.

You took
pictures or something?


No,

he whispers.

I
didn

t want to believe any of it, but I
couldn

t un-see what I saw. It was her, Aus. I knew it
was her. But what was I supposed to do

tell you? Break your
heart? I needed to know for certain, so that

s when I
called Barry.


I asked him to look into
things, hack into her emails, or whatever other shit he
does.

He exhales, long and heavy.

He found a lot. He
found a lot of fucking secrets. I don

t even know who she
is anymore.

I
look at the folder, unwilling to touch it. Unwilling to believe any
of this.

So, what

this folder tells me my girlfriend lied to me all
these years? Am I supposed to believe this, just because some
stoned hacker says so?


I don

t expect you to
believe him, but I expect you to believe me. I saw it with my own
eyes, brother. Everything in this folder

I mean, look for
yourself.

He opens it and pushes an A4 piece of paper towards
me.

You tell me. Is this
B
? Is this
B
in this
fucking photo?

I clench my fists refusing to
believe, but as I focus, I see her.


Barry found several profiles
like this on various dating sites,

he says.

They link to an email
address she uses, which points to her phone, her address, and her
laptop. They all use the same name, and they all have this photo. I
can

t say I

ve ever seen
B
quite
like this before, but I recognise that
birthmark.

My eyes sting, the edges on fire
as my vision blurs and head swirls. The same cloud-shaped birthmark
I kiss most nights, above a pair of breasts I know oh-so
well.


It can

t be, Joey. It
must be a mistake. Someone must have hacked her computer or
something.


I didn

t want to
believe it myself, but
—”


No, Joey, it

s wrong.
Barry

s wrong. He

s fucked up. This
is
B
we

re talking about.
You know it can

t be
true.


I know,

he shouts, standing
up and tossing the folder against the chair opposite. Clenching his
fists, he looks out over the Leeds

skyline and exhales
one deep breath after the other.


Why would she do
this?

I say, bewildered.


I know. This makes no sense,
and I don

t want to believe it, but everything he
found

everything I saw, and can

t get out of my
fucking mind
…”


No,

I whisper.

No,

I say, louder.

There has
to be a mistake. We know
B
. You know she
wouldn

t do something like this. You
know
—“


Then why did she say what she
said the other day?

he says, gripping my thigh.

Why is she pregnant
and saying it isn

t yours? How is she
pregnant if the two of you didn

t sleep with each
other for over a month? Why did she get into that car the other
night? Why did she go into that club? Why was she with that random
guy, and why does she have profiles on seedy sites like
these?


Why, when the two of you were
having your little sexless bet, did she go to places
I

ve never been to before? Places I

m sure
you haven

t been to either.


What do you
mean?


Barry hacked her phone and GPS
settings. You

ll know a lot more
than me, but a few dates stuck out. Look,

he says, pointing at
a yellow-highlighted section on the page.

October 10
th
last year. We went to see The Shins
and invited her, but she couldn

t come because she
went to Manchester for two days. For some fashion show,
remember?

Other books

New Amsterdam: Tess by Ashley Pullo
Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink
Rising by Kassanna
Playing Grace by Hazel Osmond
arbitrate (daynight) by Thomason, Megan
Overload Flux by Carol van Natta