The Lunacy of Tyler Lockhart ✔️

Chapter Thirteen - Present

Tyler

When women often play hard to get, it's usually when they want the man to chase after them.

I thought that was true when it came to Victoria, but turns out I was wrong. I'd apologized for my wrongdoings, I'd given her roses, told her that I still fucking loved her, (in the way that I was capable of) and yet she was hell-bent on putting us both through misery.

How fucking selfish!

I'd never backed down from a challenge and this is exactly what it was; a challenge to win back my former best friend. She loved me, we both knew that, but the constant denial was going to be my ultimate death. For ten years, I'd given Vicky what she wanted thinking that's exactly what she'd asked for.

Freedom from me.

And living through those ten years had been excruciating. I'd stalked her Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram in the starting few years, my blood boiling over when I saw her next to some guy in a picture. I used to go as far to stalk the guy's account and make open death threats. Openly, and frankly.

I used to say 'Hey, wanna see what happens if you try and date Victoria?'

The guy obviously took the bait and replied with a 'what?'

He was sent a picture of a skull followed by a man burying a body. Later, I never saw Vicky post any pictures of him, in fact, they would unfollow each other and I went on with my day, satisfied with my little victory.

It was juvenile, obviously and you'd expect nothing less from a heartbroken eighteen-year-old. Well, if heartbroken was even the word for me because they usually claimed the Lockhart's didn't possess a heart. Victoria had always been mine, and I'd always assumed she'd realize that. So I waited. And I waited. For two years she refused to get in touch with me, we didn't exchange a single hello which was hilarious considering how long of a history we shared together; it could have dated back to the A.D and the B.C eras.

When she didn't respond to my messages and didn't call me back, I knew I'd fucked up big time like there was no way she was ever going to forgive me unless I died and came back reborn as someone else. It's during that time I drank excessively, the maids used to find me passed out on the marble flooring of my room in the family's luxurious fifteen bedroom estate in Warwickshire. I'd promised my mother that I would join the Flight Academy as soon as I came to the United Kingdom, but I'd resorted to making myself miserable thinking, wanting to go back to Cold-Bay, to Vicky.

The green scenery outside the estate was beautiful, the fresh air of the countryside was a lovely change but it did nothing to lift me from my gloomy mood. I'd drink myself to sleep, wake up and demand lunch or dinner (depending upon the time I woke up). I was sick and depressed most of the time. I was under the assumption that my life was over; now that Vicky told me she despised me. My friendship with Archer had turned into a cold-war, mostly because he believed I'd fucked up his sister's life. So in a short moment, I'd lost both my best friend and the love of my life.

Was all this money, houses, status any use of if I didn't have the people I liked with me? I was completely and utterly alone. I'd thought no matter what mistakes I made, Vicky would never leave me, and I'd clearly underestimated her. She loved me, as much a normal human being was capable of, but I'd pushed her too far and paid the price.

Women wanted me for either the money or the Lockhart's name that allowed them a prestigious life. Vicky wanted none of that, and I knew if it wasn't' going to be her, there wouldn't be anyone else.

One of the servants had turned out to be traitor and called my mom who had flown across the country just to get my ass in line. She'd told me that I needed to do what was right because what had been done in the past couldn't be undone, but it was up to me to make a better future. If I was a changed man, no, if I was a man that Victoria thought she deserved, she would come back to me.