The Accomplice(100)

Walking home, tipsy and loose, Luna felt like she did in the old days, before Griff, before Scarlet.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Owen said.

“I know,” said Luna.

Owen wanted to root around for the origin of Luna’s funk, but he knew enough to wait until she offered the information, which she did a few blocks later.

“If I tell you something, you can’t ever tell Griff.”

“No problem,” Owen said.

The brothers didn’t talk much, even back when they did talk.

“I was pregnant.”

Owen stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “Shit. Did you—”

“Yeah. Keep walking,” Luna said. Luna found it easier to have the conversation without making eye contact.

“When?”

“Day after your dad’s funeral.”

Owen revisited that day, revising his memory with this new piece of information. “That explains some things,” Owen said. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“When it happened, it got me thinking about things. Things I hadn’t considered before and, uh, you know…”

“Actually, I don’t know,” Owen said. “I need a few more details.”

“John Brown and I have the same father. Same DNA. I kept imagining what it would be like to have a kid like him. I…couldn’t imagine. Well, I could, but it seemed worse than anything. Worse than death. I panicked. Thinking about it made me sick. I called a clinic. I wanted to get the surgery so I wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Jesus, Luna, you didn’t do that, did you?”

“No,” she said. “They wouldn’t let me. It’s hard to find people who will do it. Even if they do, they won’t agree to it unless you have a medical reason or are over thirty-five. One doctor told me she’d consider it if I waited eight years. I got an IUD for now.”

“Good,” Owen said. “Because you do know that the odds of you having a child like your—you know.”

“Stop. Stop,” Luna said. “You don’t understand. I’m not having a kid. Ever.”

“You might change your mind,” Owen said.

“I won’t,” said Luna.

“Have you talked to Griff about this?”

They were too young to have such conversations, Luna thought. It was the kind of topic that made it sound like you were rushing things.

“No,” Luna said. “I think I’m afraid to.”

Luna wasn’t the sort of person who thought much about the future. But she thought about it then. If she and Griff had a fundamental incompatibility, wouldn’t it be better to end things sooner rather than later? Luna was the kind of person who’d want to get pain out of the way.

“He wants kids, right?” Luna asked.

“Of course,” Owen said.

Owen didn’t know anything for a fact. But it was hard to imagine Griff not following the traditional trajectory of life.

“He’d make a good dad, wouldn’t he?” Luna said.

“Yeah, he would,” Owen said.

Another week passed. Griff and Luna hadn’t spoken, as far as Owen knew. The next weekend, Luna was locked in her bedroom, fighting inertia and trying to finish a philosophy paper due on Monday. She’d even left her phone in the kitchen to avoid distractions.

When she went to bed Sunday night, her phone was still on the kitchen table. Owen knew she’d need it in the morning, so he plugged it into the charger. That’s when he saw Griff’s text.


Why won’t you call me back?



Owen stared at the text for what felt like hours. When he replied, it seemed like the most natural thing to do.

Owen typed: Sorry. Been busy.


Griff: Can u talk?


Owen: No.


Griff: tmrw?



If Griff hadn’t just accused Owen of murder, it was unlikely that he would have made such a bold move. But he saw an opportunity that he might not have again. One that could solve the one lingering problem in his life that he didn’t think he could get over.

Owen typed: This isn’t working.

He waited twenty minutes for a response. Luna’s phone rang. Griff’s name popped on the screen. Owen silenced the ringer and sent the call to voicemail. His heart started racing. Then another text came in.


Griff: Is this about Owen?



Owen typed: No. I don’t want to do this anymore.


Griff: You want to break up?



Owen typed: Yes.

Owen deleted all texts exchanged that day and the notification of Griff’s call. He hung on to the phone for the rest of the night, waiting for Griff to send one final message, leave a voicemail, make one more attempt at repairing the relationship. Owen was split in two regarding his own behavior. One side experienced the natural guilt and fear of doing something so utterly wrong. The other side was so angry at Griff that he just didn’t care. Owen didn’t think Griff and Luna would last anyway. If they were over, really over, he might save her some future heartache. That’s what he told himself.

It was so simple. Too simple, Owen thought. For months after, he was afraid of being caught. With time, he recognized the depths of his betrayal. One thing comforted him, though. If they were meant to be together, it shouldn’t have been that easy to break them up.