The Lie

  And so I do. I run out down the block and I buy two.

  Then I do both and the results are the same.

  Pregnant.

  Pregnant.

  No doubt.

  Now Melissa is home and I’m in a full-on panic. I have to smuggle the tests out of the bathroom because I don’t dare throw them away in the rubbish there. She’ll see and then she’ll go after Brigs. She would think she has proof that I didn’t listen.

  I shut myself in my room, hiding the tests in a plastic bag and shove it under my bed for now and I try and plan what to do next. I have to have a plan.

  But I don’t have a plan.

  How could I ever plan for this?

  I sit on my bed and try to think but all the emotions have a chokehold on my heart.

  I’m pregnant.

  With Brigs’ child.

  Holy fuck.

  I’m so totally screwed because I’m not with Brigs, because I can never be with Brigs and I’m going to have go through everything alone. I don’t have family here to lean on. I don’t know how I can have a baby and still go to school. I don’t even know how I can afford a child, period.

  But then…then through my racing heart and the impending panic attack and the sense of utter doom, there is something else.

  Something I never thought I’d feel before.

  Hope.

  I’d always figured I’d have kids one day when I met the right person, but to be honest they weren’t really on my mind. Maybe because I had such a messy childhood. Maybe because my whole life has been about trying to figure it all out. I focused on school, on film, on the things I thought I wanted. Even relationships were something I pushed aside.

  But this…even though I would be alone through it, it’s Brigs’. The man I love beyond anything. The child would be the product of two people who loved each other so very much. Two people who loved each other so much that they would find each other again, even with the whole world against them.

  A wave of fear washes over me, the one that tells me how unprepared I am, how hard it’s going to be to go at it alone, that I don’t know what I’m doing.

  But then I realize how god damn stupid I’m being.

  Selfish, stupid and terribly naïve.

  The thing is, I can’t go through it alone.

  Even if I wanted to, I can’t.

  I have to tell Brigs.

  It goes against everything that I set out to do and it risks everything once more.

  But I can’t have this child without him knowing it.

  He deserves to know.

  He has to know.

  Brigs lost his only child.

  This is his second chance.

  For me to stand in the way of that…I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t do it to myself. I couldn’t do it to the baby.

  I have to tell him.

  No matter what he says, what I think, he has to know.

  My heart bubbles up with urgency, warm at the thought of seeing him again, but I have to do this properly. Tomorrow I’ll go to the clinic and take a test with the doctor, just to make sure. Then I’ll go to his office and hope to god I’m not seen by Melissa.

  Understandably, I can barely go to sleep. I toss and turn all night.

  My emotions go in waves.

  I think about how Brigs will react. Will he be afraid? Happy?

  I think about his job. Will he lose it? Keep it?

  I think about being pregnant, about how I don’t know anything and how lost I’m going to be.

  I’m so scared.

  I’m so alive.

  I’m buzzing with a million different feelings and in the end they’re all wild and warm.

  I have Brigs’ baby growing inside me.

  Too small at the moment to count.

  But it already counts for so much.

  This changes…everything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Brigs

  “Thank you, Brigs,” Dr. Sarah Chalmers, the department chair of the university tells me with a polite smile as I ease myself out of the seat. “We’re glad that you told us everything when you did.”

  I lean over to shake her hand, hoping my palm is dry. “I’m glad you and Phillip were able to see me,” I say, glancing over at the dean, Phillip Buck. As usual, his expression is blank, giving me nothing.

  “We’ll let you know soon what we decide soon,” Sarah says and I wish I could read something in her voice that would give me a clue to my fate. But again, I’m blind to everything.

  I give them both a nod and leave the office, happy to get out of there.

  It took a lot of nerve and a few days to finally get my meeting with the department chair and dean to discuss my situation with Natasha. I’m fairly lucky that Sarah is the one who helped hire me, being friends with Keir’s uncle, Tommy. But the dean is the one who made a case out of the last professor. The one I replaced. The one that was fired for sexual harassment. It doesn’t exactly look good that my issue follows a similar theme.

  But I told them the truth and that’s all I can tell them. Even if I don’t go back with Natasha, a thought so scary it leaves my chest concave and cold, I’d at least be certain I’d done everything I could.

  Still, as freeing as it all is, it’s little consolation in a life without my golden girl by my side.

  I head down to my office, wondering how long they’re going to deliberate for. Sarah had told me that though Natasha isn’t my student, she is a student in my faculty and I’m in a position of power over her if she were ever come into my class. Direct teacher student relationships are against the code of conduct because of grade manipulation and academic reputation and the result is almost always the professor losing their job. Melissa was right about that. But everything else is in a case-by-case basis depending on the relationship of student and teacher. The fact that Natasha and I knew each other before counts for something too.

  That said, it didn’t sound very promising. It’s rarely permitted and only in certain circumstances. Basically, it’s never happened at King’s College. I can only hope that by me going to them and admitting the truth, that might help them see how sincere I am, how much it means to me. I know now, at least, that they aren’t going to fire me over my confession. But whether Natasha and are ever allowed to be together is another thing.

  Another obstacle between us. Of course the greater obstacle is the fact that I haven’t seen or heard from her in weeks. I contacted her recently, two emails, just wanting to know how she was doing. But of course those were never answered.

  I’m just at my office door when something compels me to look down the hall.

  My head swivels, as if independent, and it takes me a moment to realize that Natasha is standing at the far end of the hallway, motionless and staring at me.

  I don’t know what to do. Last time we saw each other like this, I ran after her and she kept running.

  So this time I take a deep breath and manage to tear my gaze off of her before I run after her again, scaring her indefinitely. I open the door to my office and quickly step inside.

  But I leave the door open.

  It’s false hope but it’s still hope.

  I sit down at my desk, my nerves misfiring, my heart drumming in ribcage. First the meeting, now this. I’m not sure I’m going to survive this semester in the end.

  I stare at the door. I try to busy myself, do something else, but I stare at that damned open door and I hope and I wish and I pray that she’ll appear.

  Then…

  She does.

  Like a ghost, she sidles into view and I have to blink at her a few times, trying to drink her in, to make sure she’s real.

  She’s beautiful beyond words. Even in just jeans with what looks like a coffee-stain on the thigh and a white v-neck sweater, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and not a lick of makeup on her face, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

  “Hi,” she says softly before looking around her, down the
hall. “I was looking for you. Can I come in?”

  I nod, unable to form words.

  She walks in, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walks in front of the desk and stares down at me. I can’t get a hold on her eyes. They’re sad. They’re afraid. They’re…nervous.

  “I’ve been…,” I start to say. But there is too much to say and I can barely hold it all inside. “I miss you.”

  She swallows, nodding quickly. “I miss you too.”

  Fuck. I am breaking all over again.

  “Have you found a new place to live yet?” I manage to say, sucking in my breath.

  She shakes her head. “No. I’m trying. I will.”

  “Bloody hell, Natasha.” Even saying her name hurts on my lips. “You can’t be around her. She’s toxic.”

  “She’s leaving me alone for the most part,” she says. “But she watches me. I took a big risk coming here.”

  “I know,” I say, exhaling deeply. “So why did you come here?”

  She bites her lip, her brows pulled together. “I needed to see you again. I needed to speak to you.” She looks back at the door, as if waiting for Melissa to come through with a key, unlocking it.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her, eying it.

  “If she catches me here…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “She can’t hurt me anymore.”

  She frowns. “What do you mean?”

  I lean back in my chair. “I just had a meeting with the dean and the department chair. I told them everything, Natasha.”

  She stares at me blankly. I expect her to get angry, to cry out but instead a flicker of hope shines through her eyes. “What did they say?”

  I shrug. “They listened. That was pretty much it. They said they’ll deliberate about it and let me know.”

  “You’re not fired?”

  “No, I’m not fired. But that was never really the point. It wasn’t about telling them what I’ve done and not getting punished for it. It’s about telling them what I plan to keep on doing.”

  “Plan to keep on doing?” she repeats.

  My laugh is short and dry. “Natasha. I don’t know what you think you’re doing trying to save me, save my job. But it’s not working. I’m not done with you. You’re not getting away that easily. I wanted to know if I can keep seeing you, even if I don’t have you right now.”

  “And what if they say you can’t see me?” she asks quietly. “What if they make you choose.”

  “Then you know what I’ll choose,” I tell her. “It’s you. And that’s something you’re going to have to accept because I’m not letting go of you. Ever. I love you. You don’t seem to realize how your soul belongs with mine.”

  Her eyes soften and a wane smile tugs at her lips. I expected her to still be stubborn, to fight my decision, to tell me she needs to do what’s right and leave me so I can keep my job.

  But aside from still seeming anxious, she almost seems…happy.

  Her change of heart has me puzzled though I know I shouldn’t question it.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” she says and in one hollow moment I worry that she’s going to tell me she’s met someone else and can’t be with me, no matter how hard I try, no matter how badly I love her.

  “What?” I whisper, trying to keep my pulse from racing out of my throat.

  She shuts her eyes, licking her lips, as if trying to gather some internal strength. The longer the seconds tick past, the more I’m afraid that I really might lose her forever. The thought is beyond devastating.

  The room grows silent.

  My pulse rushes in my ears.

  Natasha takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  The words hang between us.

  That was the last thing I expected to hear. In fact, I’m not even sure I heard that right.

  “You’re what?”

  She opens her eyes, filled with tears. I can’t tell if they are happy or not.

  “I’m pregnant, Brigs. I checked with several tests. Went to the doctor. It’s all positive.”

  “And it’s mine?” I say, even though I feel like a wanker for questioning it.

  She gives me the appropriate look. “Of course it’s yours. I’ve only been sleeping with you. It’s all you, Brigs.” She tries to swallow, looking away. “And I don’t know how you feel about it or what you want to do but I just wanted to let you know. Because you need to know. You deserve to know. And I’m keeping it.”

  I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

  Thinking is out of the question.

  The only thing moving is my heart, which continues to race and dance, feeling so light that it might just float away.

  “Well,” she says, wiping away a tear and folding her arms. “Say something at least.”

  But I’m dumfounded.

  The joy rushing through me is too much to even feel.

  I’m numb from fucking happiness.

  “I…you’re pregnant,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” she says. “With your baby.” She sniffs and gives me the most gorgeous awestruck smile. “I’m going to be a mom.”

  Bloody hell.

  Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

  “You’re pregnant with my child,” I say, trying to get to my feet even though I can’t feel them, can’t feel anything except this light inside me trying to force its way out. “You’re pregnant.”

  “Yes, yes,” she says, laughing a little. “This is good, right? Tell me it’s good, Brigs, I’m so fucking scared.” Her face falls and I can see how damn terrified she must be.

  And that’s when it hits me. The reality. The enormity of it all.

  That’s when I kick into gear.

  I go over to her and pull her into my arms, holding her so tight, kissing the top of her head hard, over and over again.

  “Yes it’s good, it’s so fucking good,” I tell her and now the tears are coming for me. I can’t even contain them, I don’t even try. “Natasha, I don’t even know what to say but it’s good. I love you. I love you so much and I am…” I break off, a sob escaping me. “I want this more than anything in the world. Such a beautiful thing. It will be yours and mine. It will be ours to love.”

  She’s holding me as tight as I’m holding her and now she’s crying too, soft whimpers into my chest. “I want this, Brigs. I want us again. I want to be with you, I want to love you and keep on loving you. I don’t want to do it all alone.”

  I pull back and cup her face in my hands, smiling so wide that my face feels like it might break, even though the tears keep running down my cheeks and everything tastes like salt.

  It’s the taste of joy.

  Of starting over.

  Of life.

  “You’ll never have to do this alone,” I tell her, my eyes searching hers, locked together. “We’re in this together. We were always in this together, from the moment I met you. This is our child. This is about us. This is our future. We have gone through so much to get right here, right now and you need to know that nothing, not this school, not friends, or family or career or anything will ever get in the way of you and me. We deserve love. We deserve this.”

  She nods and I brush her hair back from her face, her nose running and eyes puffy but she still breaks my heart. “I promise I won’t let you go again,” she says. “I promise to fight.”

  “Just promise to rise,” I tell her, my voice hoarse. “With whatever is thrown our way. Promise me you’ll rise. Fuck the ashes. You’re fire. We’re fire.”

  “We’re fire,” she says. “We are.”

  Another wave of joy slams into me and I let out a small, delirious laugh. I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. I kiss her and tell her how much I love her and I’ll do anything for her. I tell her how much I already love the baby and that I’ll be the best father that I can be. I tell her that she’s going to be an excellent mother and that this is only the start, that this is the beginning of our whole lives together. A third chance.

/>   But the third time is always lucky.

  We stay in the office for a while, cocooned in there. We’re no longer afraid of Melissa, of consequences. It feels impossible now that we ever were. The baby – our baby – puts everything else into perspective. We stay in there because the news, the joy, feels so new and fragile. I’m afraid to go into the world, that it might disappear.

  Someone even knocks on my door at some point but I don’t dare answer it and break the spell. Instead, Natasha sits on the chair across from me and I put my feet up on the desk and we talk for hours. We talk like old times, about movies, my book, her thesis, the future, only now one of us will occasionally laugh or cry or burst out that we’re going to be parents.

  For me, it’s the greatest gift I could have ever gotten. Nothing will ever make Hamish come back and no child could ever compare to him. He was a beautiful soul, one of a kind, and the world is less bright without him in it. But I have so much love to give and I know Hamish felt that from me. He would want it to go to another child, while I keep on loving him and missing him in my heart.

  I just don’t think I’ve ever felt so much hope before. Pure, raw hope.

  It brings me to tears, brings me to my knees.

  The realization that life is good – better than good – and it’s only going to get better.

  It’s around dinner time though, and I’m just about to suggest to Natasha that we get something to eat, something to celebrate, when my phone rings.

  I pick up my mobile and eye the number.

  It’s Sarah, the department chair.

  My eyes widen and I’m suddenly nervous all over again.

  I answer it. “Brigs speaking.”

  “Brigs,” Sarah says. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

  “No, no,” I say quickly, plugging up my ear to hear her better.

  “I stopped by your office but you weren’t there,” she says. “I just wanted to let you know that I talked it over with Phillip, as well as Charles Irving since he’s most senior, trying to get a third opinion.”

  I groan inwardly, feeling all that hope dash away. Irving hates me and he doesn’t seem fond of Natasha either.

  “Because you had a relationship of sorts with her before, we decided that you can be free to pursue a relationship with Miss Trudeau now,” she says and I don’t think I’ve ever exhaled so loud before. “Based on the following grounds: she is not to ever take any of your classes, nor can she interact with you at the school in anyway, that means going to your office, stopping by your class, department fundraisers or events, or any action that might give the wrong impression. What you do in your own spare time off campus is none of our business. She’s nearly thirty and you’re both consenting adults. But the moment any of those lines are crossed and this program’s reputation is on the line, we’re afraid you’re going to have to resign.”