Iain

 

I looked up from my phone to see Michele’s retreating back heading out the front door quickly.

Confused, I thought that maybe I had been mistaken. Why would she be leaving? She had told me she needed the restroom. Surely, she wasn’t running out on our date?

When the door closed behind her, I sprang into action mode and jumped up from the table, leaving $10 to pay for the Cokes we’d ordered, and rushed out of the restaurant. Once on the sidewalk, I turned my head from left to right wildly in hopes of spotting her. She couldn’t have gotten far at all, but the sidewalks and streets were congested with people and she would easily get lost in them if I wasn’t careful.

I spotted her not long after heading the way we came, her hands shoved in her coat pockets, giving her a hunched look. I took off after her, fearful, wondering why she’d left. She had just said that she was having a great time. Had that been a lie?

Maybe she figured me out.

“Lila,” I said. I was close enough that she could hear me, but she didn’t turn. “Lila!”

How could I have blamed her for running off on me? I had hardly been honest with her - I met her under false pretenses. Not that she knew that, right? But eventually, the truth would have come out. I knew now in that moment that I would have never been able to break it off with her after just one day, and that thought scared me.

How could we ever have had anything remotely real with a foundation of lies?

“Michele!” I shouted, and she froze. My heart was pounding, adrenaline bursting through me in waves. I forced myself to breathe, stopping on the sidewalk, only distantly aware of people moving around us.

She turned to look at me, her face a white sheet of fear. It was obvious that she had absolutely no idea what to say, but her lips parted and she uttered just one word. “How?”

“I’m - I’m sorry, Michele. I know - I know you’re probably freaked out right now. But can we please talk about this?”

“How do you know my real name?” she asked me, ignoring everything I’d said.

“I can explain that. I can explain everything.”

Hurt, disbelief, confusion - they all flashed through her eyes as they searched mine. I wanted so badly to reach out and comfort her, but I didn’t.

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?” Her voice sounded so defeated.

“You always have a choice, Michele,” I said, aware that I was pleading with her but not caring. “I’m just hoping you’ll choose to listen to me.”

“I shouldn’t.” She shuffled in place, indecisive, casting a fleeting glance across the street. As if contemplating running.

“I’m not him,” I said, quietly. Hoping she’d understand.

At the reference to Brandon, fresh fear washed over her face and she shook her head.

“No - no, he’s not here, is he? Here to take me back?”

“God, no. No, and he won’t ever be, if I can help it.” The words felt thick in my mouth, her panic causing me to panic a little, too. I knew I was making a promise that I couldn’t keep. Again. But something bid me to say it, to assure her that she was safe even when I had no way of knowing if it was true or not. But as long as she was with me, I would do everything I could to keep her that way. That much I could do.

She appeared to be calming down a little, but her body was still poised for flight. There was no trace of any humor from earlier on her face, only steadfast alertness and fear.

“Let’s talk. Quickly.”

I held my hand out, a gesture of peace, hoping she’d take it. I didn’t intend to have this conversation in the middle of Times Square, but I knew the perfect place and it wasn’t far from here.

“Not here. Let’s go to Central Park, like we originally planned. I’ll explain everything there.”

She regarded me, distrust on her face, her eyebrows pinched. And then she softened, just a little bit.

She took my hand.

 

xxx

 

The last time I was in Central Park, it was for an art festival that Emily had dragged me to before my last deployment. The park looked radically different now, all brown and gray and black with a spattering of people bundled up and traversing the paths. I huddled close to Michele, hoping she’d take comfort in my warmth.

She said next to nothing as we walked away from Times Square, and she kept her pale, frightened expression. My heart lurched knowing that I was the one who’d caused it.

“Well, we’re here. Talk.”

We’d arrived at a fork in the path, and I gestured toward a bench and made my way to it. A crow screeched miserably from somewhere behind us, and once she sat, I cleared my throat.

“I want to say, first, that I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything to that, and I shook my head.

“This is what happened, okay? Brandon and I knew each other in my early Army days. He saved my life when an IED exploded and projected me from my vehicle - the engine was on fire and almost blew my face off. He got me out of the range and, ever since, we’ve been buddies.”

Michele said nothing. She looked sick, so I hurried through, hoping she’d hear me out and not run off before I had the chance to explain everything.

“We lost touch the last few years. He retired from the Army and got a job and got married. To you. And… I had my own shit.” I took a deep breath, not ready to tell her about Emily. “The truth is, I’m not a journalist. I’m a PI. People hire me to… you know. Investigate. Usually, I scope out cheating spouses and shit like that. But a few weeks ago, Brandon called me and asked me to find you.”

She flinched at that, obvious discomfort rippling through her body.

“At first, I was all for it. I always need clients, and this time, I was helping a friend. But his story… the one he told me, it just… didn’t feel right.”

“What did he tell you?” she asked in a near whisper.

“He told me that he gave you the world and you ripped his heart out.” She bit her lip, worry in her expression. I continued. “He said that you cheated on him, stole his money and ran off without even saying goodbye.”

“And you believed him?”

“At first, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? Brandon and I were close after he saved my life. I hadn’t heard from him in a few years, but I had no reason to not believe him. But… the photos he sent me, the things he said, they just didn’t add up. And then I ran into you on accident.”

“That day on the street.”

“Yeah. It was unexpected and completely unplanned.” I swallowed, remembering her stunned expression and her perfect, parted lips. I focused on them now and looked away, toward the path. “I didn’t mean to even say anything to you at all. Fuck, a legit PI wouldn’t have. But I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Why?”

I considered her question, turning back to look at her. She didn’t look as scared as before, but she still looked wary.

“You looked so…lost. All alone on a street corner, unsure of where to go.”

“Well, I was.”

I smiled, but it felt false on my face, so I let it fall quickly. “Yeah. So… after running into you, talking to you, it threw me off. I couldn’t figure it out, but what Brandon told me about you and how you actually were didn’t add up. For a minute, I tried to convince myself that you were everything he said. But then I saw you again, by chance, going to work at Catfish.”

“You were never a customer there, were you?” Michele asked, comprehension dawning.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You lied to me.” Her voice was even, but hurt crowded her face.

“I’m not excusing what I did. We both lied to each other.”

“I only lied to protect myself!”

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone walking their dog do a double-take as they passed us by. I ignored them, only focusing on her.

“I know that. I do,” I said, quietly, hoping my words would soothe her.

“Now what happens?” she asked.

“Whatever you want.” The words toppled out of my mouth too quickly, but I had to tell her that it was her choice. I wanted to say so much more, like that I was completely into her and wanted to feel her lips on mine and that I felt this strong urge to protect her from everything I could. But I didn’t know how to say all that, so I didn’t.

“Whatever I want?” Her eyes darted across my face, something like hope forming in her eyes. She still looked uncertain, though. “What if what I want isn’t possible?”

“What do you want, Michele?”

“To… to feel normal again.” She looked down at her hands, and then back up, her brow pinched with worry. “To let myself feel happy without feeling guilty about it. To enjoy my life. To stop looking over my shoulder for fear that I’ll see Brandon there.”

My throat dried at that, knowing that I had no control over those things. I leaned in, wanting to provide her with something, my arms reaching to pull her toward me. She stiffened, then relaxed, burying her face in the crook of my shoulder.

“What happened? Why did you run away?” I asked her.

A few silent moments passed by. I thought she wouldn’t answer... but then she shifted, her hand clutching at my coat, raising her face to look at me.

“We got married five years ago this past July. It was... a fairytale. All those things he said on the phone... they weren’t lies. He gave me a big house, a nice ring, a car. But... a few months after our wedding, he...he hit me.”

She stopped talking after that, the grip on my coat tightening in her small hand. The rest of her body was stock still and rigid, as if waiting for a blow.

Or remembering one.

It occurred to me, in the basest part of my mind, that she could be lying to me. She would have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing so. She could be playing me for a fool, crying wolf, all to get what she wanted.

I studied her face. I could, clearly, see the fear there. I could also see fear in the stiffness of her body, in the way she rubbed at her bare ring finger, roughly, with her thumb.

A sadness I thought I’d forgotten washed through me, and her words dredged up memories, memories I’d locked up, of my own mother. I blinked the thoughts away.

“Michele... I’m so sorry.” I pulled her closer to me, knowing it wasn’t enough. “I can’t make you feel or do anything.” I swallowed, resting my chin on the top of her head. Her hair smelled flowery, like a spring day in the midst of all this winter. “But I can promise you that as long as I’m around, Brandon won’t find you here. I’m dropping the case.”

“He’ll just hire someone else,” she said, her voice muffled and miserable-sounding. I thought I heard a sniffle, and I pulled her back, hands resting on her arms, looking into her wet eyes and frowning.

“Yeah, he probably will,” I admitted. “Have you…thought of getting a divorce? Or of filing a restraining order?”

She shook her head, her expression full of worry. “No. I can’t. I just…I’m not ready. If I do, then he might come. That’s all there is to it.”

I rubbed an escaped tear away with my thumb, hating to see her cry, hating to watch her composure break. I began to feel a sense of doubt, worrying that I was making too many promises I couldn’t keep. How could I stop Brandon from finding her? I couldn’t be with her at all times. Surely she realized that, too?

“Iain,” she whispered. She was so close, her pretty face mere inches from mine. I saw her mind racing, her eyes flicking from my own to my lips, and then back up again.

There was something there. A spark, the beginnings of a flame. Everything around me ceased to exist as we stared each other down. I was only aware of her, and me, and my racing heart.

It wasn’t the right time to feel this way, to think these thoughts. But I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“Do you feel this too?” My hands were itching to touch her, to reach up to her face and draw her in. Suddenly, that very thought consumed me; I could think of hardly anything else.

“Yes,” she breathed. My heart sped even faster as I watched her stare at me as if frozen.

“I want to kiss you so badly right now.” Her eyes flashed, cheeks visibly flushing from my words.

“Then do it.”

I didn’t need telling twice. I leaned in, pausing briefly before our lips touched, feeling her warm breath against my mouth. And then I kissed her.

Her lips were cold at first from being outside for so long, but they warmed up quickly as I moved mine over hers. I felt the shy nudge of her tongue against mine, and I deepened the kiss. That spark from earlier burst, heat and fire brewing inside of me, and I pulled her closer.

It felt like a goddamn dream, the feeling of her lips on mine, her breaths coming out in sharp rushes against me. The fact that we were outside in Central Park making out on a park bench didn’t even cross my mind until she broke the kiss, her cheeks deliciously reddened. My body hummed in response, my jeans beginning to feel painfully tight, and I held my hand over her face for just a moment longer before dropping it.

“Wow,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to take her home and dive into her until she screamed my name.

I had to calm down.

“Yeah, wow,” I said, leaning back against the bench and staring at the sky. Wisps of clouds had formed since this morning, and I watched them slowly float by for a few moments, focusing on my breathing, focusing on cooling myself down.

Michele was quiet and still. I turned my head and looked at her; she was staring at me, her aqua eyes more blue than green in the sunlight.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied. She shifted and then reached her hand toward me, tracing a finger down the side of my face, through my beard. “Do you... do you promise you’ll keep me safe from Brandon?”

I bit my tongue, hating the rip of pain in my chest at her question. No, I couldn’t keep her safe. But I could try.

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure that he never hurts you again.”

Her face softened. “You don’t know what that means to me.”

I remembered that night at Catfish, when she had told me she was married. Have you ever… been in a situation you didn’t know how to get out of? That’s what she had asked me. I looked at her now, saw her desperation and confusion. I could see her wanting to trust me, wanting to believe. I could see it all over her face.

“Come home with me,” I said. “I want to show you something.”

I expected her to say no. I was shocked when she nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go.”