The Lie(91)

“Well,” she says, wiping away a tear and folding her arms. “Say something at least.”

But I’m dumfounded.

The joy rushing through me is too much to even feel.

I’m numb from f*cking happiness.

“I…you’re pregnant,” I whisper.

“Yes,” she says. “With your baby.” She sniffs and gives me the most gorgeous awestruck smile. “I’m going to be a mom.”

Bloody hell.

Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

“You’re pregnant with my child,” I say, trying to get to my feet even though I can’t feel them, can’t feel anything except this light inside me trying to force its way out. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes, yes,” she says, laughing a little. “This is good, right? Tell me it’s good, Brigs, I’m so f*cking scared.” Her face falls and I can see how damn terrified she must be.

And that’s when it hits me. The reality. The enormity of it all.

That’s when I kick into gear.

I go over to her and pull her into my arms, holding her so tight, kissing the top of her head hard, over and over again.

“Yes it’s good, it’s so f*cking good,” I tell her and now the tears are coming for me. I can’t even contain them, I don’t even try. “Natasha, I don’t even know what to say but it’s good. I love you. I love you so much and I am…” I break off, a sob escaping me. “I want this more than anything in the world. Such a beautiful thing. It will be yours and mine. It will be ours to love.”

She’s holding me as tight as I’m holding her and now she’s crying too, soft whimpers into my chest. “I want this, Brigs. I want us again. I want to be with you, I want to love you and keep on loving you. I don’t want to do it all alone.”

I pull back and cup her face in my hands, smiling so wide that my face feels like it might break, even though the tears keep running down my cheeks and everything tastes like salt.

It’s the taste of joy.

Of starting over.

Of life.

“You’ll never have to do this alone,” I tell her, my eyes searching hers, locked together. “We’re in this together. We were always in this together, from the moment I met you. This is our child. This is about us. This is our future. We have gone through so much to get right here, right now and you need to know that nothing, not this school, not friends, or family or career or anything will ever get in the way of you and me. We deserve love. We deserve this.”

She nods and I brush her hair back from her face, her nose running and eyes puffy but she still breaks my heart. “I promise I won’t let you go again,” she says. “I promise to fight.”

“Just promise to rise,” I tell her, my voice hoarse. “With whatever is thrown our way. Promise me you’ll rise. Fuck the ashes. You’re fire. We’re fire.”

“We’re fire,” she says. “We are.”

Another wave of joy slams into me and I let out a small, delirious laugh. I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. I kiss her and tell her how much I love her and I’ll do anything for her. I tell her how much I already love the baby and that I’ll be the best father that I can be. I tell her that she’s going to be an excellent mother and that this is only the start, that this is the beginning of our whole lives together. A third chance.

But the third time is always lucky.

We stay in the office for a while, cocooned in there. We’re no longer afraid of Melissa, of consequences. It feels impossible now that we ever were. The baby – our baby – puts everything else into perspective. We stay in there because the news, the joy, feels so new and fragile. I’m afraid to go into the world, that it might disappear.

Someone even knocks on my door at some point but I don’t dare answer it and break the spell. Instead, Natasha sits on the chair across from me and I put my feet up on the desk and we talk for hours. We talk like old times, about movies, my book, her thesis, the future, only now one of us will occasionally laugh or cry or burst out that we’re going to be parents.

For me, it’s the greatest gift I could have ever gotten. Nothing will ever make Hamish come back and no child could ever compare to him. He was a beautiful soul, one of a kind, and the world is less bright without him in it. But I have so much love to give and I know Hamish felt that from me. He would want it to go to another child, while I keep on loving him and missing him in my heart.

I just don’t think I’ve ever felt so much hope before. Pure, raw hope.

It brings me to tears, brings me to my knees.

The realization that life is good – better than good – and it’s only going to get better.

It’s around dinner time though, and I’m just about to suggest to Natasha that we get something to eat, something to celebrate, when my phone rings.

I pick up my mobile and eye the number.

It’s Sarah, the department chair.

My eyes widen and I’m suddenly nervous all over again.

I answer it. “Brigs speaking.”

“Brigs,” Sarah says. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No, no,” I say quickly, plugging up my ear to hear her better.

“I stopped by your office but you weren’t there,” she says. “I just wanted to let you know that I talked it over with Phillip, as well as Charles Irving since he’s most senior, trying to get a third opinion.”