The Lie(50)

“Are you leaving?” I hear Natasha’s sleepy voice as I finish my cup of instant coffee in the kitchen. I look up to see her leaning against the doorframe, dressed in an oversized T-shirt and nothing else.

I get up, putting the cup in the sink, and come over to her, wrapping my hand around the small of her tiny waist. “My flight is very soon,” I murmur before kissing her delicately on the lips.

She puts her arms around me, holding me close in a hug.

“What if this is it?” she whispers into my neck.

I shake my head, breathing her in. “This isn’t it. This is only the beginning. Of us. Of a new life together. It won’t be easy, but it will be ours.”

“But so much can happen…”

I pull back and brush her hair off her face. “Tasha. Please.” I plant a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll be together, I promise.”

I walk toward the door, my hand on the knob. “I’ll text you when I land, okay?”

She nods, biting her lip.

“Everything is going to be okay,” I tell her.

I open the door.

There’s a girl standing on the other side, about to knock.

I jump back in shock.

“Melissa,” Natasha cries out softly.

The girl, dark hair, large forehead, and dressed in workout gear looks between us both with raised eyebrows. “Sorry, uh…Natasha, I thought we were going for a run this morning…”

“Oh right,” Natasha says. “I, uh, okay.”

“I was just leaving,” I tell the girl, hoping Natasha doesn’t get in any shit for this. This Melissa is staring at me with an incredulous, albeit slightly disgusted expression.

I walk past her and down the steps just in time to hear Melissa exclaim to Natasha, “Who the hell was that?”

The man she loves, I think to myself. And the man who loves her.

I hail a cab and head back to the airport and back to the life that’s about to change forever.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Natasha

London

Present Day




I’ve never walked so fast in my life, and it’s not an easy feat when your vision is blurry from tears, your chest burning from the desperate need to cry out. Yet if I don’t walk to Baker Street station like my life depends on it, Brigs might catch up with me. And if Brigs catches up with me again, I know I’ll be powerless in his arms.

I’m already regretting it, regretting everything. The things I said—I lashed out like this was only my guilt to carry, that I was the only who lost something. I was trying to hurt him, and I don’t even know why when he’s been through so much pain already.

When he kissed me, I felt the world spin back in time, back to when I loved him. It gave me whiplash. And so much f*cking fear. Fear that I would fall again. Fear that the enormity of our past would break us apart within seconds of coming together.

And I guess that kind of happened. Only it was at my hand, not his, and not fate’s. I’m finally in control.

I wish I wasn’t. I don’t always move in the right direction.

I get on the train and breathe a sigh of relief once the doors close, knowing that Brigs hasn’t come after me. It’s fairly empty, and even though my head is fuzzy and my body exhausted, I can’t help but watch a couple a few seats across from me.

The girl is petite with a blue pixie haircut and a nose ring, and she’s sitting in his lap. He looks like the typical jock you’d see in America, tanned with big muscles and a penchant for polo shirts, only I bet here he’s the captain of a cricket team or something like that.

My eyes are drawn to them, not only because of how different they both look, like if they were back in high school they definitely would not be dating, but because of how at ease they are with each other. They aren’t even talking, nor are they making out. They’re just staring at each other, smiling with their eyes, enveloped in their own beautiful world.

My heart aches so acutely, it burns.

I want that.

I need that.

I could have had that.

Twice already.

The happy couple gets off the train near my stop, so I have to stare at them in jealousy and fascination the entire time. My mind keeps circling over the look on Brig’s face when I told him we were dishonoring the dead. It’s like I slapped him as hard as I could.

And yet he still stood there, wanting us to move on, to have another chance. After everything I said and all that we’d gone through, he wanted us to start over.

Could we do that? Could we really put it all behind us and start from scratch? Forget the old love and build a new one?

I want to believe that, I truly do.

There’s just too much at stake.

It wasn’t just the guilt over Miranda and Hamish’s death that got me in the end. It was that I never saw Brigs after that. That my heart was shattered like glass while I was burning in shame.

He broke me into pieces.

And that’s something that could easily happen again. There’s no guarantee that it wouldn’t. Brigs could freak out down the line as easily as I just did. And if it became serious, what would happen when we meet his family? If he meets mine? Would we ever be able to tell them how we truly first met?

The other thing is, there’s no option for us not to become serious. We may be starting over, but the moment either of us fall into bed with each other, we’re all in. I know he is. I know I’d be. There are no baby steps here. It’s all or nothing.