I Know Who You Are by Alice Feeney EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Author: Alice Feeney
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Series: None
- Price: Free
- File Size: 1 MB
London, 2017
I’m that girl you think you know, but you can’t remember where from.
Lying is what I do for a living. It’s what I’m best at; becoming somebody
else. The eyes are the only part of me I still recognize in the mirror, staring
out beneath the made-up face of a made-up person. Another character,
another story, another lie. I look away, ready to leave her behind for the
night, stopping briefly to stare at what is written on the dressing room door:
AIMEE SINCLAIR
My name, not his. I never changed it.
Perhaps because, deep down, I always knew that our marriage would only
last until life did us part. I remind myself that my name only defines me if I
allow it to. It is merely a collection of letters, arranged in a certain order; little
more than a parent’s wish, a label, a lie. Sometimes I long to rearrange those
letters into something else. Someone else. A new name for a new me. The me
I became when nobody else was looking.
Knowing a person’s name is not the same as knowing a person.
I think we broke us last night.
Sometimes it’s the people who love us the most that hurt us the hardest;
because they can.
He hurt me.
We’ve made a bad habit of hurting each other; things have to be broken in
order to fix them.
I hurt him back.
I check that I’ve remembered to put my latest book in my bag, the way
other people check for a purse or keys. Time is precious, never spare, and I
kill mine by reading on set between filming. Ever since I was a child, I have
preferred to inhabit the fictional lives of others, hiding in stories that have
happier endings than my own; we are what we read. When I’m sure I haven’t
forgotten anything, I walk away, back to who and what and where I came
from.
Something very bad happened last night.
I’ve tried so hard to pretend that it didn’t, struggled to rearrange the
memories, but I can still hear his hate-filled words, still feel his hands around
my neck, and still see the expression I’ve never seen his face wear before.
I can still fix this. I can fix us.
The lies we tell ourselves are always the most dangerous.
It was a fight, that’s all. Everybody who has ever loved has also fought.
I walk down the familiar corridors of Pinewood Studios, leaving my
dressing room, but not my thoughts or fears too far behind. My steps seem
slow and uncertain, as though they are deliberately delaying the act of going
home; afraid of what will be waiting there.
I did love him, I still do.
I think it’s important to remember that. We weren’t always the version of
us that we became. Life remodels relationships like the sea reshapes the sand;
eroding dunes of love, building banks of hate. I told him it was over last
night. I told him that I wanted a divorce, and I told him that I meant it this
time.
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