by Vivien Vale
I took advantage of that.
Standing here in the hotel room, I can see all of Nairobi from the window. It’s insane how a country this beautiful can be so dangerous. It’s not even fair when you think about it.
Since being here, I’ve had a lot of realizations, and one of them is that it’s silly to feel entitled to beautiful things.
But when you dig deeper beyond the surface, you find that there are complexities that you shouldn’t entangle yourself in. Complexities that you can’t control.
So instead, you admire from afar, because that’s all you can do. And that’s what I should have done.
I was sent here to protect. That was my only purpose. Not to fuck it up with my bullshit or get her dragged into dangerous situations that don’t even involve her.
I had a job to do, and frankly, I’ve failed.
I don’t deserve her. I don’t even deserve to be around her or even inhale the same air as her.
I would never forgive myself if something bad happens to her, especially if it’s from my own negligence. I’d rather withstand a firing squad or water torture than let that happen.
There’s no fucking way. Not over my dead body.
And now, in order to right this wrong, there’s one thing I gotta do.
It’s not going to be easy, though.
No, it’s going to be one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made.
32
Adelaide
My hands curl instinctively into fists as I watch him end the call, my nails biting into my palms as his words echo in my mind.
After everything we’ve been through since he popped back into my life, this is how it ends? Without a discussion beforehand?
He reclines on the porch, a wistful expression painted on his face as he looks around the small village. If anything, it only serves to make my anger rise higher, a small fire sparking to life in my mind.
I stand silently a moment longer, watching as his eyes finish their trek, waiting for them to turn in my direction.
When they finally do, I watch them widen in surprise, his body lurching upright in my presence.
“Addie, I didn’t—”
“Didn’t see me? Yeah, I gathered as much.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
His unanswered question hangs between us. What, if anything, did I hear?
“How’s Sten?” I ask in response, taking a step forward.
The tension bunching his muscles seems to relax as the words leave my mouth, his body relaxing in...defeat? Shame?
It doesn’t matter.
He runs his hand slowly across the back of his neck before standing, his face taking on a look of apology that I don’t care to acknowledge.
“It’s the right thing to do, Addie.”
I can’t help the growl that travels up my throat.
“The right thing? Wow, Ford, I didn’t realize that running off like a coward was the right thing. My mistake.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh, yes, you are. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. It’s high school all over again. We get close, and you flee. I should’ve seen it coming.”
“Is that what you think happened?” His voice rises slightly in anger, his hands curling into fists tightly at his sides. “I didn’t run away from you. You have no idea what you’re talking about!”
I hear my own voice rising to match his.
“Oh, bullshit Ford! You did run. Just like you’re running now. You tell yourself whatever you need to, but you can’t fool me. You’re a coward!”
He stomps angrily towards me, his footfalls kicking up dust in his wake. He stops close to me, our bodies mere inches apart. His proximity shoots small sparks of electricity through my veins even now.
“I didn’t run then, and I’m not running now. I just know when to say when, Addie. Unlike you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, please. You have no idea when enough is enough. The doctor with the world on her shoulders, right? Well, your Atlas complex is your own problem. The rest of us know when to walk away.”
“Run away,” I counter, raising myself slightly on my toes.
His frame hulks before me, muscles once again tensing visibly in frustration.
“What do you want from me?” he growls.
“I want you to face this! For fuck’s sake, Ford, I thought this meant something. I thought I meant something to you!”
His hands fly up to his head, running idly through his hair as he looks at me incredulously.
“Of course you mean something to me! All of this meant something to me, Adelaide, but I can’t stay here. This isn’t about what I want or what we had. This is about your safety. If you’d stop being stubborn for one second, you’d see that!”
I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to stomp my foot like an enraged child.
“My safety?” I look wildly around us, gesturing with my arms for emphasis. “I am safe, Ford! Whatever worst-case scenario you’ve got playing in that head of yours isn’t real! Can you even tell the difference?”
“Sure, for now,” he says ominously. “But I’ve been through this, Addie. You have no idea. My worst case scenarios are real. It’s only a matter of time. Whether or not you wanna admit it, I’m dangerous—to you and everyone else around me. I refuse to be the cause of another person getting hurt!”
“You won’t, Ford. Nothing’s going to happen!”
“You’re wrong,” he says, reaching down to grab my hand.
He clutches it tightly between us, my heart racing frantically at his touch.
“Ford—” I say, half-whispering the word.
“No, Addie—you need to listen. The person that I am, the things that I’ve caused, you can’t just wish that away. All of it comes with a price. Your safety is the most important thing to me. If I stay, you’re in danger, no matter how hard you try to deny it. I can’t let anything happen to you. I refuse.”
He gestures roughly around us and says, “And this place, this life that you’ve chosen... I can’t keep you safe here. I only make it more dangerous. It’s driving me insane, Adelaide!”
“So we’ll figure it out!” I shout it frustration.
“How? Are you going to leave, Addie? Give this all up? Because as long as we’re here, you’re at risk.”
His words slam into me, and I instinctively pull my hand from his grasp. My eyes run freely around the village.
Give this up?
My life has meaning here in a way that I never thought was possible. I care about this place, about these people. My heart aches at the thought of leaving it all behind.
“I can’t leave, Ford.”
He throws his hands up in resignation, clearly already knowing what my answer would have been.
“So, there it is,” he says, a touch of finality to his words. “You can’t leave, and I can’t stay. What else is there to talk about?”
I feel hollow at his assessment, tears threatening my eyes. After everything we’ve been through, after finding each other a lifetime later, this is it?
“Maybe...”
I trail off. Really there’s nothing left to say. A void has opened between us.
No matter how hard I want it to close, there’s no fixing this.
Quiet follows the word, heavy and pervasive, speaking louder than either of us possibly could. I feel sorrow washing over me in waves, invading my senses with utter hopelessness.
“This was never going to work,” he says, breaking the moment. “I should have known better, Addie. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I ask, feeling anger spread through me anew. “This is bullshit, Ford. I was right to begin with. You’re a coward. We could figure this out, but you don’t want to. You’re too afraid.”
He shakes his head slowly, taking a step backward.
“There’s nothing to figure out,” his voice comes out softly now, sorrow and regret heavy in his words. “I’m no good for you,
Adelaide―or for anyone else.”
He looks up, his eyes finding mine intensely. “I’m the Zimwi, okay? I’m a dangerous beast. You’ll be much better off without me.”
I open my mouth to speak, wanting to say something—anything—to close the rift between us. Words fail me though, my mind seeming to blank in the face of his declaration.
There’s nothing left to say. His mind is clearly made up.
I close my mouth silently, again fighting the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes.
He stands a moment longer, his eyes trailing across my face in a way that makes me ache.
Then, with a single nod, he turns away.
I can only stand and watch as he walks farther into the village, his feet quickly increasing the space between us.
It’s tempting to follow and get him to tell me everything, but I know he won’t talk to me, so I turn in the opposite direction.
As I walk away from him, my foot kicks a pebble, and I watch it roll off the path, my mind now a million miles away.
33
Ford
I lay awake on the porch, my cot firm and unyielding beneath me. Usually, I don’t even notice the taut fabric, but tonight I can’t seem to get comfortable.
After our argument earlier in the day, I thought it best to move outside.
It was never really necessary to sleep in the hut anyway. I realize now that it was just my attempt to get closer to Adelaide.
I should’ve slept out here from day one. Just one of many things I should’ve done differently, but not the least—which is never accepting this assignment to begin with.
My fight with Addie plays on repeat in my thoughts, our words echoing around the cavernous space of my head.
I wish that things could have gone differently. I know that I’ve made the right choice in leaving, but I at least had hoped we could have a decent goodbye. Now, even that has gone to shit.
It’s just as well. A heartfelt farewell only would have made this harder. Better to leave on a sour note.
It’s easier that way.
From inside the hut, the sound of Edgar’s whimpering filters out to me, the tension palpable even to him.
His cries rub against my senses like sandpaper, urging me to go in and comfort him.
With a growl of frustration, I turn to my side—facing away from the hut.
I can’t go in there. I don’t belong there anymore. Not that I ever really did, but now I can’t even trick myself into thinking so.
The cot creaks underneath me as I toss and turn, wanting morning to come quickly. At least in the light of day, there will be distractions.
At least, I’ll be able to see Addie.
I clench my hands at this last thought, willing myself to be practical.
Addie and I are finished. Seeing her won’t help a damn thing.
The air is heavy with heat, adding yet another level of discomfort to my current situation. My shirt clings too tightly to my skin, sweat pooling at my hairline.
I turn to lay on my back with a sigh.
It doesn’t seem like sleep is coming tonight.
I give in to the insomnia, letting my mind wander where it wills.
Not surprisingly, everything that comes to mind is distinctly unpleasant. My mistakes in the CIA, my foolish choices when it comes to the lives of others, this disaster with Addie...
All of my misbegotten decisions run rampant in my skull, mistakes that took decades to build all flashing through my thoughts in moments.
Only to repeat again.
And again.
The sound of my cot squeaking echoes through the night, the only noise in the stillness of the village.
At some point, I suppose I must sleep, though my dreams are only more of the same, virtually indistinguishable from my waking thoughts.
My only indication that I’ve slept is waking. Sunlight finds me, filtering through my eyelashes to drag me back to the world of the living.
I blink blearily up toward it, willing myself to get up and face what comes next.
With a groan, I do.
My muscles feel stiff as I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
I glance around at the still sleeping village, wondering when Adelaide will be awake.
Edgar’s cries have quieted sometime in the night, and I’m relieved to know that he’s calmed somewhat.
I’m debating whether or not to peek in on them when the door opens, its creak startling in the quiet.
Addie looks down at me from the doorway, an emotionless expression plastered across her face.
“I’m going to the hospital,” she informs me curtly.
I nod in response, standing to follow.
She raises an eyebrow as she watches me rise, impatience clear in her gaze.
“Seriously? Aren’t you leaving anyway?”
“Yes, but until your new guard shows up it’s still my job to protect you.”
“Right, protect me,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I deny the bait, instead slipping into my boots quickly.
Still, she’s down the porch by the time I stand, causing me to rush to catch up to her.
“Can’t you just take the day off?” she asks, scowling back at me.
If only.
Having to be in her presence all day is going to hurt. Honestly, I’d rather avoid it.
I meant what I said though.
Until my replacement arrives, I’m not taking my eyes off her. I refuse to let anything happen to Adelaide, whether she hates me or not.
“No,” I simply say, meeting her gaze unblinkingly.
She groans but turns her eyes forward again, blessedly dropping the subject.
We walk in silence the rest of the way to the hospital, tension heavy in the air between us.
By the time we reach the hut, I’m actually happy for the distraction of the ill. I quietly choose a vacant corner, watching attentively as Adelaide goes about her duties.
I clamp down on the voice of hope that tries to rise within me as I watch her work. The voice that screams at me that I’m making a mistake here.
Just look at her, it says. Isn’t she amazing?
For her part, Addie does a good job of ignoring me, her thoughts clearly wrapped up in the tasks at hand. I’m glad that she has that. It’s her own version of the calm detachment that I have when on the job.
With effort, I reach for that cool unfeeling state now, clinging to it like a life raft in a storm.
Hours pass this way: her working, me trying to blend seamlessly into the walls of the hospital. When she leaves, I follow, always keeping a comfortable distance.
Around midday, a commotion outside draws my eyes to the door of the hospital, excited whispers pulling at my ears.
I hold a hand up at Addie.
Stay put.
I take her eye roll for agreement.
Stepping back into the sweltering heat of the day, I’m surprised to see a familiar face.
“Oliver?” It’s a stupid question really. I mean he was one of the names I gave Sten.
“Ford!” he replies, reaching out a hand as he nears me. “Well, fancy meeting you here.”
“You’re taking this post,” I grunt, more for something to say as opposed to expecting an answer.
He looks skeptically around, eyeing the dilapidated huts and whispering villagers, and says, “Seems that way.”
This is good news. I’m not happy about leaving Adelaide, quite the opposite in fact. If I have to go though, which I sure as fuck do, I’m glad she’ll be left in such capable hands.
Oliver is a good man―a professional. The fact that he’ll be here to watch over Addie relaxes me a little.
“Well, let me introduce you to your new primary,” I say, gesturing towards the hospital.
He nods once, retrieving his knapsack from the ground where he set it.
“Lead the way.”
Adelaide eyes us skeptically as we enter, her gaze swiping quickly across Oliver.<
br />
“Adelaide,” I say, “this is Oliver, and he’ll be picking things up from here.”
I see sadness wash rapidly across her face, there and gone so fast I question my own eyes.
“Okay,” she finally says, extending a hand. “I’m Adelaide.”
They shake quickly.
“Would you like to give him the tour, or should I?” I ask.
She scowls in my general direction. “I’m very busy.”
Her curt tone cuts through me, something I’ll never get used to.
“Okay, I’ll show him around before I leave then,” I say, letting my words trail off slightly at the end.
I know that this was my choice, but part of me is still hoping that she’ll convince me to stay.
It’s fucking foolish, but there it is.
“Fine, goodbye,” she responds, drawing me from my thoughts.
Her finality makes my heart ache. Still, what more is there to say?
“Goodbye, Adelaide,” I say, showing Oliver from the hut
I don’t look back as I exit, knowing full well that Addie won’t either.
I push my feelings to the back of my mind, wanting them to stay there as I quickly show Oliver around the village.
He eyes the highlights, echoing my own words back to me for confirmation. The tour is understandably short, ending with Oliver choosing the location for his tent.
It’s close to our—Addie’s—hut, but far enough that she won’t feel smothered. She’ll appreciate that.
I find myself offering to help him set up, trying to drag out my last moments here, though I’m not sure what the point is.
“I’ve got it, thanks. I’m sure you’re in a hurry to leave anyway.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I accept his handshake, wishing him luck that he again echoes back.
With that, I find myself out of tasks.
I look longingly around me, taking in my true final glance of this place.
It may have been a mistake to come, but I’m sure finding it hard to leave.