by Karina Halle
She’s shaking her head, staring at me with the saddest eyes.
She’s leaving me because she believes it’s the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry,” she says in a low voice and I wish I could turn to stone. “Please don’t hate me.”
I stare at her. I am dissolving before her eyes. “I could never hate you,” I manage to say. “I love you.”
“Then if you love me, let me go,” she says. “Let me leave. Let me make things right.”
I’m shaking my head. “You’re only making things wrong.”
“Good-bye Brigs,” she says with a sob, unlocking the door and flinging it open. “Please, don’t contact me. For your own sake. And mine.”
Then she’s running out the door, her hair whipping around her like a cape of gold silk and I have to lean against my desk to stay upright. The last words I said to her all those years ago ring through my ears and now, now I understand the exact pain she’d spent all this time trying to get over.
My heart is crushed. Absolutely. It feels like an anvil on my chest, pushing and pushing until I can barely breathe.
I want to collapse to the floor. Writhe in pain. I want to sink into the deepest sorrows, be dragged back into those inky depths. The hellish suffering. The turmoil that slices you up inside like poison-laced razorblades.
But this isn’t like last time.
Because I don’t feel guilt.
And I don’t feel shame.
I’m angry.
Really fucking angry.
It’s my anger at Melissa, at the situation, at my own carelessness that keeps me from focusing on my water-logged heart. It keeps me moving. I’m not going to roll over and play dead and admit defeat. I crawled straight out of hell – I’ve been through the worst already. I’ve come too far to bloody give up because things seem impossible, because someone wants to make my life miserable.
No one makes my life miserable but me.
Natasha told me to stay away, to not contact her.
I’ll grant her that – for now.
But if I’m going to get her back, I have to do what I can to change this.
I have to do what’s right.
***
The week slogs on by like molasses and I stay true to what she asked of me. I don’t contact Natasha at all, even though she’s on my mind every minute of the day. I’m wondering if she’s still living with Melissa, if she’s managed to find a place yet or if she’s somehow putting up with her and deciding to stay put. That doesn’t seem like something she’d be able to do but then again, I didn’t think it was so easy for her to leave me either.
I’m trying not to be bitter about it. It’s hard though. Because as much as I understand Natasha’s reasoning, I don’t understand why she thinks losing my job is harder than losing her. Jobs come and go. Love is a million to one.
I don’t see her at school during the week and I don’t know if that’s luck – or bad luck – or if she’s even at school. I do see Melissa though, unfortunately. She hasn’t said anything to me but she does stare at me with this smugness I wish I could wipe off her face. I don’t give her anything though. I act like normal, even happy at times and forever the dorky professor because the last thing I want is for her to take pleasure in what she’s done, to enjoy my pain. So I wear a mask and I wear it well.
When the weekend finally arrives, I fly up to Edinburgh to my parents’ house, asking Lachlan to be present as well. I wasn’t too sure I wanted Kayla there but Lachlan was adamant that she’ll soon be my sister-in-law and that she’s part of our clan. I had to agree.
On Saturday night we’re all gathered around the dinner table, everyone looking at me expectantly. I know they think I have some grand old news and while it’s news, it’s not at all what they’re expecting to hear.
My mum, in fact, looks especially anxious, like she thinks I’m about to announce Natasha is pregnant or we’re getting married or something of that nature. I’m sorry to disappoint her.
I clear my throat. “Well, I bet you’re wondering why I asked for you all to come to dinner.”
“I assumed it’s because of your mother’s cooking,” my dad says.
“That’s true,” I concede.
“I assumed it’s because you miss me,” Kayla says.
“Also true,” I tell her with a quick smile. “But actually…I have some news. And it’s not exactly good news either.”
“Oh my god,” my mum gasps, hand going to her chest. “You and Natasha broke up.”
I tilt my head, considering it. “That is part of it.”
Lachlan gives me a heavy look. “I’m so sorry,” he says and I can see how much he means it.
I wince. “Well, the thing is. Okay, this is going to be weird to hear and I know I should have told you all this a very, very long time ago. It’s just that I was too afraid that you wouldn’t understand, that you would judge.”
“We would never judge you, Brigs,” my mother says.
“Even I wouldn’t,” Kayla adds.
I sigh. “Okay. Here goes. I met Natasha the summer before Miranda died. We met, as we’ve told you, at the short film festival office. But it didn’t end there. There was something so…enigmatic about her, she drew me in like gravity and it was something I’d never ever felt before. I was a fool and I was lonely and I wanted that around me. So I invited Natasha to become my research assistant for my book.” I pause. “And she accepted.” I look around and everyone is still staring at me, though I think Kayla is catching on from the sly look in her eyes.
I clear the dust from my throat and push on. “So we worked together almost every day that summer. And I…I fell in love with her.” I expect my mum to gasp but still…silence. I can hear the fridge kick on in the kitchen. “And she fell in love with me. I never slept with her. I was as faithful to Miranda as possible but the truth was I didn’t love her and I’m not sure I ever really did. Not even close to the way that I felt – that I still feel – for Natasha. I had an emotional affair and it was wrong. The both of us knew it. And I especially knew I had to leave Miranda.”
I suck in my breath and close my eyes, hoping it makes the next part easier. “So, I told Miranda one night. It was the wrong night for honesty. I told her I wanted a divorce and when she refused, I told her the truth, that I was in love with someone else. She panicked. She was drunk. Beyond angry. All understandable. There were so many things I should have done in hindsight but I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t expect her to grab Hamish and then get in the car and drive…”
Now my mother is gasping. I look up to see everyone staring at me, their faces pained. Even Kayla has watery eyes.
“You know the rest of that night,” I tell them quickly. “We don’t need to go over it again. But right afterward, in my depths of grief and guilt, I told Natasha what happened. I told her it was our fault and that we did this and I ended it with her because I had no choice. I loved her, so dearly, but how could I keep loving the person that brought my world to a standstill? So I never saw Natasha again…until last month.”
“Jesus, Brigs,” my father says and he rarely swears. He shakes his head, taking off his glasses. “That’s more than anyone should have to go through. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because you wouldn’t have understood.”
“They would have,” Lachlan says gruffly. “We all would have.”
“Brigs, you’re our son, just as Lachlan is,” says my mother, her voice grave. “You’re family and we love you. We would have never judged you. And we don’t judge you now. To think all this time you were blaming yourself for what happened.”
“It explains so much,” my father adds with a sigh.
“You’re not a bad person just because you fell in love with someone else,” Kayla says, staring at me with rare sincerity in her dark eyes. “You’re just human. Like the rest of us.”
Well I can’t say that my heart doesn’t feel warm from hearing them say this but that’s still not the p
roblem at hand.
Lachlan picks up on this, saying, “So why have you broken up?”
I exhale loudly. “Where do I begin? One of Natasha’s friends, Melissa, a student of mine this year, has it in for us. For Natasha especially. She knows we’re seeing each other and is threatening to report me.”
“Report you for what?” Kayla asks. “You’re not Natasha’s teacher.”
“No, I’m not. And even next year, we would make sure not to be in each other’s class. But this girl can do some real damage. She’s been hitting on me, trying to mess with me obviously, give her some ammo, and of course I’ve been trying to be as professional as possible, constantly shooting her down. But she’s fragile. No, she’s a fucking loon. And now she wants us to suffer. So she threatened the both of us and told Natasha that if she doesn’t leave me, she’ll get me fired from my job. Who knows the lies she can make up.”
“And so she left you,” my mum says with disbelief.
I nod. “Aye. She did. She didn’t want me to lose my job. She thinks she’s doing the right thing but she’s not.”
“She’s trying to save you,” Kayla says quietly.
“I know. But she can’t save me by losing me. It might work sometimes but not this time.”
My dad clears his throat. “It’s honorable of her,” he says. “But I can tell you’re not going to accept it. You do have a very rare teaching position, though, and that’s something to consider. That doesn’t come around every day.”
“No, it doesn’t. But neither does she. And if I have to choose, then it’s no contest. I choose her.”
“So what are you going to do?” Lachlan asks as he begins to cut into his roast. The man can’t keep his appetite in check for long. “What can you do?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Telling you was the first step. The next step… I think I have to tell the school.”
“Tell them what?” my father asks. “That you were seeing a student?”
“Yes,” I say. “And if it works out, that hopefully I will be seeing her again. Look, I can’t let her go and I won’t let her go. Life rarely gives you second chances like this.”
“But what if you tell them and they fire you and you don’t get her back,” Kayla points out.
“Always the optimist, aye?” I say to her. “In that case, at least I did all I could. I’m not giving up without a fight.”
My words fall over the table, bringing everyone into silence where we finally enjoy our meal. It isn’t until later, when Lachlan is leaving, that he pulls me into a bear hug.
I have to say, it surprises me.
“What’s that for,” I tell him, pulling away.
His brow is furrowed as he stares at me, a million creases on his forehead. “It’s because I know what it’s like to fight. You don’t have to do it alone. Go get her back Brigs. I’m with you all the way.” He slaps me on the back.
It hurts like hell.
But his words do give me strength.
***
The next morning I get up bright and early, pausing in the doorway of Lachlan’s old room and staring at the bed where Natasha and I were last together here. The sun streams in through the window and I can almost see her there, the smile on her face, beaming at me brightly, the moment I told her I loved her. The moment she let herself believe it.
I take it all in and know that I’ve never been so honest, never been so real with myself than I was right then. That that’s something I need to honor.
I have other people to honor as well.
Before I head to the airport, I have the cab driver drop me off at the cemetery where Miranda and Hamish are buried together. I stop in front of their graves and put down a haphazard bouquet of late flowers I picked from my mum’s garden.
It’s a quiet morning here, almost empty, and the sunshine is golden. Foggy patches still linger and a bird close by sings on and on in a sweetly chirping tune. It sounds like spring, even though we are rushing into autumn. Maybe it’s a sign of rebirth. Maybe I don’t need any more signs.
I clear my throat and stand above the graves, the shiny headstones. “You both know there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think of you. That I don’t remember every beautiful detail. That will never change. As long as I keep living, that will never change. Through the good and the bad, you both taught me so much and more than that you taught me what it’s like to be alive.” I pause, taking in a deep breath. “I just wanted you both to know that I love you. And that I’ve found someone that makes me very happy. Thing haven’t worked out the way any of us thought and I wish I could make it so that you were both here with me. But the truth is, life has other plans for us, greater than the ones we have for ourselves. I think…I think I’m finally ready to move on. I don’t know where I’m going but I know what I want and I’m going to fight for it. I just wanted your permission, your forgiveness, before I go forward.”
I know the dead can’t respond but that doesn’t mean I don’t wait. I close my eyes, taking in the sorrow and the grief and exhaling hope. I can feel it in my bones.
I feel love.
And I feel free.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Natasha
It’s been two weeks since I last talked to Brigs, that tearful, horrible day in his office where I not only broke my own heart but broke his too. Two weeks and that image of his face crumbling before me, of the hurt and devastation on his brow, won’t leave my mind. It’s all I see. It’s in my dreams, it’s when I’m awake. It’s my punishment for giving him up, to see how badly I hurt him.
But I’m hurting too. Deeply. Beyond repair. Just like before, I’m on the edge of the black hole and so close to going over. I know that freefall – it’s a lot like love. But there’s no happy ending.
I don’t know how I keep from going over. Maybe it’s because I know what the depths feel like. Maybe it’s because this was my choice this time. I just know it was the only thing I could do. I had ruined him in the past and it was our love that took so much away from his life. I won’t do that again.
And maybe it’s because I know I won’t survive it in the end. How could he love me, look at me when he knows I’m the reason he’s had to give up a perfect career?
He would resent me. I would resent myself.
We would break up.
And once again, he would have nothing.
He’s gone through more than anyone should already.
I just can’t do it.
The terrible thing is, I know he loves me more than he loves his job. I know that everything he said is true – that he would leave his job for me in a heartbeat, that he would do it for us. I know it and that’s why I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let him make that choice.
So I made it for him.
And I’m dying inside. Slowly.
But so fucking surely.
It’s all made worse by the fact that not only do I keep seeing him at school, thankfully at a distance, even though it devastates me to even see his shadow, but I’m still living with Melissa.
It’s not for lack of trying. I’m on Craigslist and wanted roommate ads every single day. I’m applying non-stop and I’m visiting flats when I’m not at school. But it’s not so easy when you’re on a budget and school has just started. I almost accepted a shared room with this angry girl until she made an overly racist comment about someone else who applied, then I had to hightail it out of there.
There is no silver lining here. No saving grace. Melissa doesn’t say a word to me but somehow that makes it worse. She’s watching me all the time, trying to see where I’m going, what I’m doing. It’s like having a fucking private detective following your every move and she’s waiting for me to slip up.
But I’m not slipping up. I haven’t contacted Brigs and aside from two emails that I quickly erased with all the willpower possible, I haven’t heard from him. I’m doing everything I can to keep him out of trouble, to let him keep the life he had before.
I
have nothing to hide anymore.
Well, actually.
That’s not quite true.
My period is late.
Way late.
I’m usually pretty regular so this scares the shit out of me and of course I’m thinking back to when we had unprotected sex in Edinburgh. I did take Plan B the next day, maybe a bit later than I should have, but that’s supposed to work, like, ninety-nine per cent of the time.
I can’t be that one per cent.
I can’t.
It’s just stress, I tell myself as I pick up the home pregnancy test from the chemist and make my way to the flat. You’re under so much pressure, you’re not eating, you’re crying yourself to sleep every night.
That’s all true.
I’m a wreck. I can barely make it to my classes and at night I can barely grade my papers. My thesis doesn’t even exist. It’s hard to do anything but wallow in the pain and some nights I can’t breathe because my chest is hollow and I’m crying too hard to let anything in.
Those are the nights I know Melissa can hear me but I’m so distraught – so lost – that I can’t even hide it, can’t keep quiet. I know she’s loving the pain, the tears, how my supposedly perfect life has been taken down a peg.
But it’s not a peg. It’s everything.
Brigs was everything.
So it’s stress, I tell myself once again as I go into the bathroom, grateful that Melissa isn’t home so I can do this in peace. Just stress.
I take in a deep breath, follow the instructions, and pee on the stick.
I stare at the pink lines.
Seconds pass.
I will the second line not to appear.
But one line does.
And then another.
Two pink lines.
A positive.
“No,” I cry out softly. I shake the stick rapidly, as if that will change the results.
But it doesn’t.
Fuck.
I’m pregnant.
No, I tell myself. These kind of tests are faulty so early in the game. Get another.