The Lie(90)

She does.

Like a ghost, she sidles into view and I have to blink at her a few times, trying to drink her in, to make sure she’s real.

She’s beautiful beyond words. Even in just jeans with what looks like a coffee-stain on the thigh and a white v-neck sweater, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and not a lick of makeup on her face, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” she says softly before looking around her, down the hall. “I was looking for you. Can I come in?”

I nod, unable to form words.

She walks in, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walks in front of the desk and stares down at me. I can’t get a hold on her eyes. They’re sad. They’re afraid. They’re…nervous.

“I’ve been…,” I start to say. But there is too much to say and I can barely hold it all inside. “I miss you.”

She swallows, nodding quickly. “I miss you too.”

Fuck. I am breaking all over again.

“Have you found a new place to live yet?” I manage to say, sucking in my breath.

She shakes her head. “No. I’m trying. I will.”

“Bloody hell, Natasha.” Even saying her name hurts on my lips. “You can’t be around her. She’s toxic.”

“She’s leaving me alone for the most part,” she says. “But she watches me. I took a big risk coming here.”

“I know,” I say, exhaling deeply. “So why did you come here?”

She bites her lip, her brows pulled together. “I needed to see you again. I needed to speak to you.” She looks back at the door, as if waiting for Melissa to come through with a key, unlocking it.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her, eying it.

“If she catches me here…”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “She can’t hurt me anymore.”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

I lean back in my chair. “I just had a meeting with the dean and the department chair. I told them everything, Natasha.”

She stares at me blankly. I expect her to get angry, to cry out but instead a flicker of hope shines through her eyes. “What did they say?”

I shrug. “They listened. That was pretty much it. They said they’ll deliberate about it and let me know.”

“You’re not fired?”

“No, I’m not fired. But that was never really the point. It wasn’t about telling them what I’ve done and not getting punished for it. It’s about telling them what I plan to keep on doing.”

“Plan to keep on doing?” she repeats.

My laugh is short and dry. “Natasha. I don’t know what you think you’re doing trying to save me, save my job. But it’s not working. I’m not done with you. You’re not getting away that easily. I wanted to know if I can keep seeing you, even if I don’t have you right now.”

“And what if they say you can’t see me?” she asks quietly. “What if they make you choose.”

“Then you know what I’ll choose,” I tell her. “It’s you. And that’s something you’re going to have to accept because I’m not letting go of you. Ever. I love you. You don’t seem to realize how your soul belongs with mine.”

Her eyes soften and a wane smile tugs at her lips. I expected her to still be stubborn, to fight my decision, to tell me she needs to do what’s right and leave me so I can keep my job.

But aside from still seeming anxious, she almost seems…happy.

Her change of heart has me puzzled though I know I shouldn’t question it.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says and in one hollow moment I worry that she’s going to tell me she’s met someone else and can’t be with me, no matter how hard I try, no matter how badly I love her.

“What?” I whisper, trying to keep my pulse from racing out of my throat.

She shuts her eyes, licking her lips, as if trying to gather some internal strength. The longer the seconds tick past, the more I’m afraid that I really might lose her forever. The thought is beyond devastating.

The room grows silent.

My pulse rushes in my ears.

Natasha takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

The words hang between us.

That was the last thing I expected to hear. In fact, I’m not even sure I heard that right.

“You’re what?”

She opens her eyes, filled with tears. I can’t tell if they are happy or not.

“I’m pregnant, Brigs. I checked with several tests. Went to the doctor. It’s all positive.”

“And it’s mine?” I say, even though I feel like a wanker for questioning it.

She gives me the appropriate look. “Of course it’s yours. I’ve only been sleeping with you. It’s all you, Brigs.” She tries to swallow, looking away. “And I don’t know how you feel about it or what you want to do but I just wanted to let you know. Because you need to know. You deserve to know. And I’m keeping it.”

I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

Thinking is out of the question.

The only thing moving is my heart, which continues to race and dance, feeling so light that it might just float away.