The rest, however, isn’t clear at all, but I’m learning that when it comes to Jasper, most things aren’t. Like I don’t know when he had time to get this together. He’s so secretive and sneaky, it’s hard to say. The one thing I’m not really surprised about is that he has these kinds of connections. I mean the guy is a government assassin. It’s kind of like a job requirement that he has shady acquaintances. I guess the only thing that really matters at this point is that whether he’d ever admit to it, Jasper has feelings for me. Enough to make him forego doing his job in favor of letting me live. Even going so far as to make sure I’m started up with a new life and new identity. That I’m safe. And according to Jasper himself, his job has always come first. According to him (and his motto) he never thinks of his targets again. His own way of living with it, surviving it. Yet he made an exception for me. Surely that means something. It has to, right?
For the first time in what seems like years (although it’s been nowhere near that long) I have hope. It’s a tiny, fragile thread, but I can still feel it. That’s why I take my time in making arrangements and picking a place to go. Maybe Jasper will come back. Maybe he will choose me over his old life. Maybe he will come back and take me with him wherever it is that he needs to go.
And I will go. I’m beginning to think I would follow him anywhere. Because if he comes for me, it means he loves me. And if he loves me, maybe my fatal flaw isn’t so fatal after all.
—
Saying good-bye to my father this time was a little different than it was last time. Although this time I’m moving farther away, we’re parting on much more mature and advanced terms. And there’s a lot more turbulent water under our bridge.
We both know the score, which is a first for me, and while learning the truth about so much has been a hard blow for me, it has also given me a sense of control that I’ve never had before. I don’t think Dad is very fond of it, but he’ll have to work through this his way because it’s not changing. Things won’t ever go back to the way they were before.
Of course we’ll keep in touch. Regardless of my struggles with what I now know, he’s still my father. I love him very much. So we’ve worked out a way to communicate via an online dating site for weekly updates and then postcards containing code that we’ll follow up with the occasional phone call once a month or so. He also bought a burner phone. I am the only one with the number. It is only for a true emergency. We both agreed that hopefully I’ll never have to use it.
In the event that something happens to him, God forbid, he’s got a failsafe in place and I’ll be notified via a phone call once I obtain a new cell and give him my international number. It’s all very complicated and spy-ish, not at all as thrilling and satisfying as it’s portrayed in the movies. Right now it only seems to intensify the feeling that my entire life is a lie. I don’t know why that should bother me now. Evidently big parts of it have been for a long, long time.
Dad also promised me that either he’ll join me or I can come home once all this is sorted out and taken care of. Part of me looks forward to that day. Part of me dreads it, as that will be the day when Jasper will truly be out of my life in every possible way. Until then, I’ll hold out hope that he’ll come to me, but I understand that things have to be this way for now.
For now.
Until then, I’ve got the clothes on my back and what few things Dad is having Miran ship to me to a hotel in Paris. Everything else will be stored until life returns to normal.
Or whatever new normal there will be in the aftermath of Jasper.
THIRTY-FIVE
Muse
I watch through the hazy oval window of the airplane as Paris comes into view. The glitter of a million lights sparkles below like a miniature Christmas village as we descend. For a second, I think I can even make out the Eiffel Tower as we pass over, heading toward Charles de Gaulle Airport.
I open myself to the awe of the moment, to the excitement of a future exploring such an amazing city. I let it wash over me, let it pour into my every inner crevice, hoping it will drown the ever-present gloom that has haunted my bones since the morning I woke to find Jasper gone. I’ve fought it with a variety of weapons. Everything from bitter rage to blind hope—each has worked exceptionally well for a brief period of time, but then, like a boomerang unerringly finding its way back to its starting point, I return to a semi-despondent state of emotional unrest. But at least I have those spots of freedom from my misery. If not for those, I’d have likely already gone totally off the deep end.