The Lie(27)
We’re either here to save each other.
Or one of us is going over.
With that thought, I open my computer and log into the university system. I do a search for Natasha through the student database and come up with her phone number and email address.
I open up my email account, absently noting that my cousin Keir emailed me back, then start to compose a message to Natasha.
I pause, my fingers on the keyboard, but the words refuse to appear.
What do I say? Last time she physically ran away. This time she could see my name and refuse to even open the email.
So then you should write what’s true, I tell myself. If she might not even see it anyway.
I hate it when I’m right.
In the subject I just put “Please.”
Then I type:
Natasha,
I can’t explain what it was like to see you again the other day. The only way to describe it is that you gave me hope I hadn’t felt in a long time. I have many things I need to say to you, a million ways to apologize, and I can only hope that you’ll hear me out. I just want a chance to say these things in person, like you deserve, and then I’ll leave you alone.
You know this goes against everything I used to believe, but time can change a man and I believe you’re in my life again for a reason.
I don’t want to disappoint fate.
Brigs.
Natasha was once thrilled to discover my rather poetic side hidden beneath all the scholarly film talk. I can only hope she still feels the same way.
I take a deep breath and press send.
Then I become obsessed. I try to work, but it’s impossible for me to do anything other than check my email. An hour goes by. She hasn’t responded and I’m losing my mind.
I decide to check Keir’s email and see that he arrived in London yesterday, wanting to meet up. I immediately put his number into my phone and send him a text, seeing if he wants to get a drink today. I need something to get out of this tailspin, anything to distract me.
I’m not all too close with Keir, nor his brother Mal or sister Maisie, just as I’m not close with my other cousins Bram and Linden. I blame the distance. Bram and Linden have been living in the US for a long time, while Keir has been serving the army in Afghanistan. I guess his duty is over and he’s in London for a few days for whatever reason. Mal travels all over the world for his job as a photographer, and Maisie has been living in Africa somewhere doing charity work.
Unlike Natasha, it doesn’t take Keir long to get back to me. I agree to meet him at the Cask and Glass pub near the barracks and Buckingham Palace for a quick drink, with the potential to turn into an outright bender.
By the time I get to the pub, Keir is already there.
He’s sitting alone at a high-top table along the window, peering intently at the people walking past, palming a pint of beer. With his brawny build, grizzled features, and steely gaze, he looks every inch the soldier, even though his beard betrays him otherwise, as does his uniform of jeans, a green t-shirt, and a cargo jacket.
“Hey, Keir,” I say to him as I walk over.
Keir grins at me and gets off his seat, pulling me into a hug. “Nice to see you, Brigs,” he says in his distinctively low voice. He does an amazing Darth Vader impression. “Thanks for coming to meet me.”
“I’m glad you’re in town,” I tell him, patting the table. “Want another pint?”
He nods, and I quickly head to the bar to get us both one. I sit down at the table and raise my glass. “Cheers.”
I nearly down my beer in one go.
Keir raises a brow. “Been needing that one, have you?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Well, I’ve been having a pretty shit time myself if it makes you feel better,” he says, running his hand over his mouth and jaw.
“It doesn’t,” I tell him. I don’t want to pry or intrude on his business, so I don’t add anything else. Keir used to be pretty talkative and forthcoming before he joined the army, though that was a long time ago. I don’t expect him to say anything now.
He finishes off what was left of his other beer, and I’m about to ask him about how the army is when he says, “I left the army.”
I frown, mid-sip. “You mean you’re off-duty.”
He shakes his head. “No. I left. No one knows.” His eyes flit to mine, and now I can see how tired they are. Weary and war-torn, they’ve obviously seen a lot. “You’re the first person I’ve told. I…I just needed to get it out, you know? Tell someone. It isn’t easy living a lie.”
Don’t I fucking know it.
“Your parents?” I ask. “Maisie or Mal don’t know either?”
He laughs sourly. “I don’t even know where Maisie is, to be honest. Mal seems to disappear off the earth from time to time. Every time he meets a new woman in a new country, anyway. And this isn’t the sort of thing you’d write in an email.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “Sorry to burden you with this, Brigs. I know we’ve lost touch.”