When Fangirls Lie (23 page)

Looking back at her with unreadable eyes was a tall dark-haired man, his handsome face showing no clue to his thoughts. His expensive black suit fit his lean hard body to perfection, and he wore it like he was born in it. And he was, in a way, for he was the bastard son of a prince.

When Jeremy opened his arms, she didn’t hesitate at all.

“It’s going to be okay, Saffi. I’m here now.” His lips touched her hair as she sobbed in his arms. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

@staffan_aehrenthal, Twitter:

It’s true. I’m taking a break after my US tour. And yes, it’s also true. I’m taken.

Just two concerts left
, Staffan told himself over three weeks later. Two more concerts left and the US leg of his tour would finally end and he would be free to go to Saffi and beg her to take him back.

His chest hurt. It always did every time he thought of Saffi in any way, the things he used to say or do to hurt her now shredding his own heart.

A quiet knock sounded on his door before Bob walked in. The other man had resigned on the night Saffi left, but he had given in to Staffan’s quiet request to continue working for him when Staffan admitted that he had fucked up with Saffi and intended to have her back.

Staffan’s smile twisted, remembering how Bob told him in angry disgust the way Saffi had pleaded to let her in and asked him with heartbreaking hope if he thought she and Staffan were “special” together.

God.

Special was such a weak word to describe the kind of girl Saffi was. There was no one in the world like her, and he would not stop at nothing to have a chance with her again.

“The gym’s ready,” Bob said.

“Thanks, Bob.” Nowadays, he worked out three times a day, not just to stay physically fit but also to keep himself from going insane at missing Saffi. Thoughts of Saffi, of how she was doing and if she would ever forgive him, kept him awake. But because he knew the people who paid to watch his concert deserved more from him, Staffan decided to use heavy workouts to literally knock him out in exhaustion. It was that or take medications, but he didn’t want to risk doing something like Spears on Valium on stage.

The gym was completely empty by the time the elevator took him from the penthouse to the tenth floor. He nodded at Bob, and the other man immediately left him alone. He would stand outside to ensure that no one would interrupt while Staffan was inside.

Staffan set his iPad on the stand while he configured the treadmill to an 8.0 speed for a brisk walk. As he started to warm up, he unlocked his iPad, which then took him immediately to Saffi’s Facebook page. He refreshed it, but nothing new came up. It had been inactive ever since Saffi left him, and it was the same thing with all her online accounts.

Could she have figured out that he knew H and Saffi were one and the same? Or was there a worse reason for this painfully empty silence? Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go after her, and goddammit he wanted to. He hadn’t fucking wanted anything so badly in his life.

But a part of him remembered her words not so long ago.

“I’ve decided to let you know that
I am
your greatest treasure, Staffan,” she had told him impishly that one night when he had given her the treasure chest and she so wanted to give him a gift in return.

The impish smile had entranced him so much he had started taking off her clothes as he teased, “Really?”

She giggled while trying to dodge his hands, which had already managed to unbutton half of his shirt off her. “Yup. Because I’m not just your G. I’m a half-breed.”

He had raised a brow at that. “A half-breed?”

“Yes, because I’m also one of your fangirls! And we fangirls always believe in you, always want you, always love you. So I don’t mind if you do stuff for fangirls. Just one small thing from you is a huge thing for us.” She paused, her worried eyes suddenly seeking him. “But just no kissing stuff, okay?”

The memory sharpened the pain of loss inside him, honing it like the finest blade as it reminded Staffan how much he had lost the moment he pushed Saffi away.

He closed the iPad and started to run. In his mind, he was running towards her, but she was always too far, always out of his reach.

Saffi, Saffi, please, baby, please take me back.

~~~

“You’re d-daydreaming again,” Mary told Saffi, startling the other girl. It was nine in the morning, and as Saturday mornings went, the library was blessedly empty and quiet, with only a bare handful of students turning in. She and Saffi loved going to the university library at times like this – or at least they used to. Now, Mary couldn’t help but think that Saffi might be feeling bored.

Mary gazed at her mentor in concern. Saffi was normally very bubbly, something that had surprised her at the start since the other girl looked so feminine – so like Mary, actually. But whereas Mary was really shy and soft-spoken---mostly because she had a tendency to stammer when she was nervous---Saffi was quirky and fun once she was with people she was completely at ease with.

But Saffi had changed, ever since she came back from Staffan Aehrenthal’s concert. In the past, Saffi used to have stars in her eyes every time she had something new to talk about her number one celebrity crush.

Saffi straightened in her seat, blinking at Mary’s soft and bemused tone. She couldn’t believe she had fallen asleep in the middle of tutoring Mary. And it happened to be about the most recently discovered fish species – another member of the
Cyprinidae
family, this time found in the streams of Turkey. Researching about new fish species was one of her favorite subjects in the world so Saffi herself had no idea how she could have fallen asleep just like that.

“Are you okay, Saffi?”

Saffi nodded. “I’m just…worried about my thesis---” She stopped when she heard Mary let out an uncharacteristic snort. Saffi smiled in spite of herself. “Did I just hear my super ladylike---”

“Here,” Mary said, smiling back, relieved to see Saffi happy again, “I’ll do it again if you like.” And so she snorted another time.

Saffi’s laughter had always been musical, unlike any other sound Mary had heard really. Perhaps what made it special was Saffi’s genuine love for life, her unique ability to seize every moment and turn it into something magical. But now Saffi’s beautiful laughter was tinged with melancholy.

“Oh, Mary.” Saffi didn’t know if she wanted to laugh some more or start to cry. She felt like she was going to burst if she didn’t talk to someone and just get everything off her chest. “I’m scared.”

“If it’s anything I can help you with, I will.”

Saffi forced the words out. “I think…I think I’m pregnant.”

And then everything came out.

The talk helped Saffi a lot, enough to help clear her thoughts and do what she was supposed to do. She took out her phone. “Jeremy?”

“It’s a wonderful surprise to hear your voice, Saffi.”

The gentleness of Jeremy’s voice almost undid her. “Jeremy,” she whispered again. “We have to talk. Please come over today?”

“Of course.” The swiftness and firmness of his reply slightly eased the pain inside her. “I’m on my way now.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything for you, Saffi.”

After ending the call, she brought her hand to her chest and kept it there, using it to calm her suddenly racing heartbeat. What she was about to do might be irrevocable, but she had to be strong. She wasn’t going to be a fool the second time and make the same mistakes she did.

This time she was going to be strong on her own, without needing anyone’s help.

This time, she had finally grown up.

~~~

Leaving the sounds of adulation behind him without a backward glance, Staffan nodded his thanks at Bob as the other man opened the door for him. His tour was finally over, giving him the long-anticipated opportunity to go after Saffi.

Cold sweat bathed Staffan at the thought. Would she still take him back? The days that had separated them had been the severest agony, with every idle second spent torturing himself with thoughts of Saffi falling in love with the first nice guy she met back in university. Those guys, with their fucking PhDs, would no doubt treat her like the princess she was. And she would fall in love with one of them, how could she not when she only had his cruel and heartless ways to compare to?

His heart flinched inside him at the thought of Saffi even holding another man’s hands.
God.
If just the thought of Saffi in another man’s company hurt, how much worse had it been for Saffi, with all those times he had forced her away?

Staffan’s phone rang, Carson’s name flashing on the screen. The other man had felt responsible for what happened between Staffan and Saffi even though Staffan knew it was
his
own fault all along. No one had twisted his arm to act like a bastard with Saffi. That had been him and only him all along.

“Hey.” Alan felt even more awkward these days whenever he had to speak with Staffan. He could see how staying apart from Saffi had taken its toll on the once invincible-looking rockstar. This wasn’t like how he had been when the Cougar had left.
Then
Staffan had simply been in a violent rage every day. But now…Staffan only came alive in front of his fans and after that, he simply lived for any news he could get of Saffi.

The first time he had talked to Staffan, after a short uncomfortable phone call with Saffi, telling the other man that Saffi had been treated in the hospital for two broken ribs---Alan could still remember the way Staffan’s eyes had burned bright at the news, as if Alan’s words had given him permission to…breathe.

“Do you have news of Saffi?” Staffan asked, his chest tightening in fear and anticipation of whatever Carson was about to say.

“Uhh, yes. You see, lately she hasn’t been going to classes---” He stopped, feeling like he had somehow twisted a knife in Staffan so Alan backtracked quickly, saying, “Anyway, I have it in good authority that Saffi will be in uni tomorrow for another meeting with the first-year student she’s mentoring.”

Saffi hadn’t been attending her classes---because of him. It was yet another sin laid on his soul. Could he ever fucking make it up to her? Staffan vividly remembered how she excitedly posted photos of one fish after another in her Instagram account, and each fucking fish didn’t have just a name – she even knew its family history, practically able to trace its genealogy to three generations back. If that didn’t spell passion for what she was doing, nothing else would.

And Staffan had been the one to take it all away from her.

He forced his attention back to Carson, who was now telling him about a potential ally in a girl named Mary. “Thank you for the information, Carson. It’s extremely helpful.” The college Saffi attended wasn’t just exclusive, but it was also famously tight-lipped, with even his most expert detectives unable to extract any kind of information about Saffi’s academic schedule.

“So that’s it then.” Alan cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry about what happened---”

“It’s not your fault. I was the one who fucked up.”

Alan said heavily, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

After the call, Staffan reached for his iPad and checked her Facebook page again, out of habit and out of desperation. But this time what he saw made him cold with fear.

No.

He clicked the refresh icon again, hoping it was a glitch. But it wasn’t. He checked her other accounts and they were the same.

Deactivated.