To Admit
Joe
She hadn't fallen asleep, though I knew that she was tired. Something was on her mind, I could tell. I kissed her forehead gently and asked, "What's wrong?"
She stirred slightly, as if I had just woken her up, but I knew that she hadn't been asleep. "Nothing," she murmured.
I didn't believe that. Not for a second. "Come on, Cayden. Tell me what it is."
She sighed. "I was just thinking. It's not a big deal."
"If it's bothering you," I told her seriously, "then it is a big deal. At least, it is to me. So, what is it?"
"You're persistent," she mumbled.
"Hell yeah."
She nuzzled into my shoulder and sighed, her warm breath fanning over my skin.
"So…" I prompted.
"So…" she repeated.
"Cayden."
She sighed. "Just thinking."
"About…?"
She sat up slightly, propping herself up on her elbow, her bright blue eyes boring into mine. "I was reading a book earlier."
"And?"
"It was about this lady whose husband had died. She said that for the rest of her life, she could feel him hovering over her, protecting her. And people say that all the time; that their dead loved one is up in heaven, they can feel it. And maybe it's true, but…" A tear fell and she hastily wiped it away. "I've never felt it. I've never felt Jack."
My heart stopped beating and I prayed that she wouldn't notice the shocked expression on my face. But she was too busy wiping tears away. "I know it's stupid, but I always figured that someday I'd be able to feel him watching me, just to show me that he's okay. I feel all sensitive and weak saying it, but I kind of wish that would happen. All I've been feeling when I think of him is emptiness, though. And that worries me because maybe, just maybe, it's because we didn't love each other enough."
Oh no. I had so many options. I could have simply held her close while she cried and told her that it was going to be okay. I could have told her to go to sleep, that it would be better tomorrow. I could have told her that she was being ridiculous; that, of course, Jack was watching her. But none of those were going to work; even though I'd been trained to lie, I knew that I couldn't lie to Cayden's face while she was so upset. I loved her and she deserved the truth, even if the truth might send her away from me forever. God, I really hoped that didn't happen. I couldn't picture my life without her anymore; I needed her around. I wanted her around, to play chess with and cook and clean and…
I have to do this, I told myself. I have to tell her and let the chips fall where they may.
I took the largest breath that I could and as I exhaled, I said, "There's something that I should have told you a long time ago."
She adjusted her hand so that her head could rest on it more comfortably. "What's that?" She didn't say it cautiously; she wasn't scared of what I had to say. She didn't think it was that bad, which only made it harder.
"Shortly after we recovered Dominic's disc, you went into town for supplies."
She nodded. "I remember."
"I stayed home," I said.
She nodded. "Yeah…"
"You'd just told me about your former life," I said. "You know, Aidan and Jack and all of that."
She nodded again, clearly wondering where this little story of mine was going to go. I'll admit, I wasn't being very eloquent about it. I was terrified of what her reaction was going to be. I wasn't even sure what I wanted her reaction to be.
"Well, I was bored and there was nothing to do, so I checked into you. I looked at newspaper clippings from soccer games, school records, birth certificate, all of that."
She smiled. "I kind of expected you to, Joe. I'm not angry."
Oh, but you're going to be. You're going to hate me. You're going to leave. You're going to throw my ring at me and refuse to marry a monster like me. "That's not all."
She gestured for me to continue.
"I was using the CIA system…"
She nodded. "Clearly. What else would you use?"
I sighed. This was going to be so hard. "You never went to Jack's funeral."
She shook her head, confused. "No, I didn't want to. I didn't want to think of him like that. My friends even tried to tell me about his funeral, but I didn't want to hear about it. I still thought that it was my fault; I felt guilty."
Don't do this, part of me screamed. She'll leave you and she won't come back. But, still, I knew that I had to tell her. She needed to hear the truth. I would have wanted her to tell me if my brother was still alive, after all. She loved him and she needed the chance to go and see him.
Or I could have just taken her to an empty grave and let her cry there. And then she would never know…
No.
"The funeral was closed-casket."
She raised her eyebrows, surprised at that news. "Okay… Why does that matter?"
I took a deep breath. "The funeral was closed casket because there was nothing there for them to show."
She took a moment. "So, are you saying that his body was so mangled that they-"
"No," I interrupted, unable to bear it any longer. "The funeral was closed casket because they had nothing to put there. They were paid off, all of them."
"Who was paid off?" she asked, confused. She sat upright, looking down at me. "Joe, what are you talking about?"
I sat up, too, wanting to do anything but tell her what I was talking about. "I looked him up on the system, Cayden. He lives in New Hampshire. Jack is still alive."
Cayden
My first thought was that he was insane. Or fevered. Or both. I was about to offer to look up the nearest insane asylum when my brain forced me to think. After all, an operative's greatest weapon is their brain.
Things began to fall into place, then.
My dad (if you could even consider him that) had a lot of power. When he spoke, people listened. He was commanding. And, he had a lot of money, even if he didn't let that on. His family had been rich and he had inherited all of their money. He could have very well paid the funeral home people off. He could have paid for everything.
But why would Jack have just disappeared like that? He wouldn't have left me. So, had my dad threatened him? No, I realized. He threatened me. Jack wouldn't have cared about threats on his life. But a threat on me… Well, that was an entirely different story.
I suddenly felt dizzy, the room was spinning. I felt claustrophobic. I threw the covers back on the bed and my feet touched the floor.
"Cayden?" Joe said cautiously.
I ignored him and pulled on my underwear and then my sports bra. It was like I was a machine, like I was on autopilot. I was barely even aware as I pulled on my shirt.
"Cayden," he said again, softly this time.
I reached for my pants and pulled them on slowly, still in a daze. Jack was alive. That opened so many doors. I could go and see him and we could talk and laugh like we used to. We could play soccer together and I could tell him about my missions as a sniper. He wouldn't believe it at first, because I'd always hated guns, but maybe I could teach him to shoot and…
"Cayden."
It would feel so good to be myself again. The part of me that no one really knew. I could be Aidan again. Aidan, the girl that was top of her class and so good at soccer that the National Team had wanted her before she was even out of high school. I wouldn't have to be a sniper anymore. I could leave the CIA.
Joe grabbed my arm, then, and gripped it like a vise. "Cayden, stop. Listen to me."
And then, all of my anger came out. My happiness from moments before evolved into this anger so ripe that I lashed out and slapped Joe right across the cheek. In surprise, he let go of my arm and stumbled back.
"I hate you," I spat at him. "I can't believe that you would let me go on thinking that he was dead. How could you do that to me?" I sounded like a little kid on the last bit, but I really didn't care. I wanted him to know how much he had hurt me. How much I hated him for it.
"You don't understand," he whispered softly, looking at me with his bright green eyes. "Please, just listen to me."
"I'd love to hear your explanation," I told him. "I really would. I would love to hear how you could do this to me!"
"Because I love you!" he pleaded.
I let out a laugh of disbelief. "If you loved me, you would have told me!" The spy part of my brain was wondering when he had pulled on clothes. The woman in me was desperately fighting back the tears, not wanting him to see me cry.
He nodded. "I know. That's why I'm telling you now. At first, I thought that if I told you, you would hate me. And we were engaged and I didn't want you running back to him…" He took a deep breath and his eyes were filled with something… "But I know that it was selfish and it was wrong. I'm so sorry."
"Do you expect me to forgive you?" I asked him, my voice sounding far away. How could I forgive him for that? I had been hurting so much lately, struggling with Jack's death because I had never let myself struggle with it before. And he had just sat back and watched me struggle, even though he knew the truth. He had let me hurt. How do you do that to someone that you love? How? If I'd had knowledge like that, I would have shared it. If he really loved me, he would have seen how badly I was hurting and he would have told me, regardless of the consequences. He was right; it had been extremely selfish and extremely wrong. He would never understand how much.
"I don't know," he whispered and he looked down at the floor.
Is he hiding tears? But I told myself that I didn't care. I didn't care if he was crying and I didn't care if he was hurting. I just didn't care. I didn't care about anything but the ache in my stomach, the ache in my heart.
Jack is alive. He's alive and living in New Hampshire. I can go see him. He's alive.
"You don't know," I repeated, wanting him to know how stupid that sounded. Wanting him to know that I wasn't planning to forgive him.
He looked up at me, raw emotion in his eyes. "I don't know what to say," he admitted. "There is no right thing to say. I'm just hoping – praying – that you'll eventually be able to forgive me. I'm hoping that I mean enough to you that you can look past this. I'm hoping that you'll choose me over Jack; I'm hoping I mean as much to you as he did."
Before he could continue, I stepped closer to him and spoke in my most angry voice, a low whisper filled with hatred. "You will never mean as much to me as Jack did," I said and then I stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me.