The Lie

“I could live here,” I say quietly.

He winces, trying to smile. “I wish you could, darling, I really wish you could. But right now, with her watching us, I don’t think we can. I know you’re not my student, but I really have to make sure that neither of us will get in any trouble. But I’ll help you, and if it costs more, I will pay for it. I don’t care. You just can’t stay there with her anymore.”

I nod. “I know, I know.” I turn away from him, knots in my chest. One moment everything was perfect, the next it’s blowing up in my face. The last thing I want is for Brigs to lose his job. He can’t lose anything else on account of me, I won’t let it happen. Fucking Melissa has the whole fucking world in the palm of her hand right now.

“Okay,” I say, sighing. My heart feels like lead. “I’ll go.” I quickly put on my own shirt and grab my stuff. My stomach churns and churns and I’ve never felt so nervous, as if I’m actually going into battle.

Brigs suddenly cups my face in his hands, his eyes roaming all over me like a wild horse. “I love you,” he whispers. “And you love me. Don’t forget that.”

I swallow thickly. “I won’t.”

I can’t.

I’m out the door.





CHAPTER TWENTYONE

Brigs



I’m pacing the flat, curling and uncurling my hands into fists. Winter is lying on the floor, staring at me. For once he’s completely still, his head down, his eyes following my every movement as I go back and forth.

I don’t know what’s going on with Natasha. I texted her, phoned her, emailed her. It’s been a few hours since she left to go back to her flat and confront Melissa, and I’m worried sick.

I should have seen this coming. I’m a bloody idiot is what I am.

I knew that Melissa was up to something, but my god damn ego didn’t realize how duplicitous she was. I thought maybe she was just jealous of Natasha and wanted what she couldn’t have. I never thought it could come to this, that she would turn to stalking us, threatening us. I should have figured that out but I didn’t and now we’re paying for it.

I can only hope that Natasha can talk some sense into her. I know I can’t, even though I’m willing to try. If things don’t go well, I’ll call Melissa into my office after class and try to reason with her. I’m not above bribing her. If she wants perfect grades and to never show up to my class again, I’ll give her that. It goes against every moral principle I have about being a teacher but Natasha – and my job – is more important than that. I’ll do anything to make this whole thing go away.

But I guess the real problem is that we still wouldn’t be out of the woods. We’re still hiding ourselves away from the public, because of what could happen if the school finds out. What I need to do is fix that from the inside. Make sure we’re safe, that we can be together, whether someone like Melissa tries to ruin it for us or someone else. I should have done that from the beginning, but love plays you like the ultimate fool. Love is a trickster, a joker, and the master of the sleight of hand. She makes you look one way, and only one way, while she makes the rest of the world disappear. Eventually you’ll raise your head from the one you love, look around and wonder what the fuck just happened.

I continue pacing, until Winter starts looking anxious and then I take him for a walk, texting Natasha repeatedly.

Are you okay?

I love you.

Did you talk to Melissa?

What is happening?

Please talk to me.

Natasha, please, I’m so fucking worried.

And nothing. No response. I contemplate going to her flat, but even if I knew where it was, I have a feeling my presence would only make things worse.

This is hell. And I’ve been in hell before, so I know.

I don’t know how I go to sleep that night. I write her a few more emails, bordering on becoming stalkerish myself. I check her Facebook but she never uses it anyway. My calls go straight to voice mail.

I know something is terribly wrong.

The next morning I have no choice but to get to school early and plant myself outside of Professor Irving’s class in hopes of seeing her.

“McGregor,” Irving says to me, looking me up and down. “Trying to learn a few things? I would be more than happy if you joined my class.”

“I’m looking for a student,” I tell him mildly.

“Oh,” he says as the students file into the lecture theatre, giving us curious looks, wondering what I’m doing there. They’re all undergrads but I know Natasha is a TA for this class. “What student?”

“One of your TAs, Natasha Trudeau.”

He nods, squinting at me. “She’s rather bright but hasn’t been paying much attention lately. A shame, really. She could do well if she applied herself.”