The Lie They Kept

Bridget

Summer.

The worst time of the year.

No, that’s wrong.

Summer in Vancouver is the worst time of year.

High rise buildings, crappy temperamental weather—which, really, is only two seasons: a scorching hot summer or a blistering cold winter, both of which I’m not a fan of—and god forbid I forget the lack of air conditioning.

And let’s be honest, that’s the biggest flaw of all.

As I list all of the things I hate about the city on this sweltering hot bus, filled to the brim with sweaty and smelly people, I find myself gazing out of the window in awe at the sheer amount of greenery we have here.

For a city, it’s rather environmentally-friendly and the ecosystem is kind of a big deal.

One of my favourite areas of the city is Stanley Park, a big-ass public park that is located in Vancouver’s downtown peninsula. Walks through there on the weekends are one of my best friend Imani’s and my favourite pastimes.

As the bus pulls up to the stop just outside my favourite bar, I shout a quick, “thank you,” then hop down onto the sidewalk along with ten other patrons, all dressed in their office wear.

My best friend Imani has been living in Vancouver since she became a student at UBC when she was nineteen.

I remember her moving into her cute heritage apartment in the West End and almost fainting when she told me the cost of her monthly rent.

Let’s just say I’m glad I live outside of the city.

I weave through the throngs of finance bros and Pilates princesses, all chatting boisterously to one another, and make my way to the bar’s patio.

I spot her immediately, her tawny and bronzed skin glowing under the setting sun, standing at one of the high tables in the middle.

I’m surprised she even managed to get a spot with the sheer amount of people here, and I make a note to myself to buy her a drink for her efforts.

Her dark brown eyes look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip of wine and a warm smile settles on her lips. As soon as I’m close enough she reaches for me, her slender fingers clasping around my wrist and pulling me toward her.

“Fucking hell, Bids.” She sighs, letting go of me and sliding a glass of crisp white wine in front of me. “I didn’t think you’d find me out here.”

Looking around, I realize there are no spare seats and my ankles throb at the thought of having to stand any longer than necessary.

I spend most of my days either sitting down or running around after my boss at the law firm I work at.

I’ve been a legal secretary there for nearly four years, and if it wasn’t for my hefty paycheque and the health benefits, I’d have left that place a long time ago.

“Me either.” I hum in agreement as I take a sip of the Moscato. “I thought we might’ve had to ask Dumb and Dumber over there for their table.”

Imani follows my line of gaze at the two men in their all-too-tight suits, both of whom are talking to two women, who look bored out of their minds. They both lean against the table while the girls lean back, exchanging the odd look here and there.

Imani laughs. “To think that could’ve been us.”

After a few minutes of aimlessly watching the men attempt to shoot their shot, we turn our attention back to each other. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I’ve missed her.

Her coiled black hair is twisted into a knot on the top of her head and secured with a pink claw grip with a few stray strands that fall around her rounded face.

Imani fans her face with a menu from the table and puffs out her cheeks. “I can’t wait for it to be fall, this summer was too hot.”

“Yeah, thankfully, with September around the corner, it’ll cool down soon.”

“Thank god, I was not made for this climate.”

“So, tell me,” I start, resting my elbows on the table top. “How is that mighty fine brother of yours?”

Imani rolls her eyes. “Girl, please.” A knowing smirk slowly spreads on her glossy lips. “You already know he’s obsessed with you.”

Malik Kingston, Imani’s older brother, is God’s gift to mankind.

We’ve been friends ever since I transferred to their high school twelve years ago.

I’ve always had a little soft spot for him, and for many years I thought it was one-sided, until one drunken night in our early twenties, he told me he had been harbouring feelings for me since we first met.

As soon as the cat was out of the bag, he didn’t hold back on the flirting or doing anything and everything he could to get my attention.

It’s not that his attempts haven’t worked because, trust me, that man lives in my head rent free, but I worry that dating Malik would ruin things between Imani and me if it went wrong.

Not to mention, his baby mama is an absolute psycho.

“He’s such a DILF,” I say wistfully, inwardly laughing when Imani gags.

She closes her eyes and holds out a hand in front of her. “I don’t want to hear Malik and DILF in the same sentence.”

“See, this is why I haven’t taken him up on any of his offers.” She looks at me with a puzzled expression. “Because I wouldn’t be able to talk about his dick size with you.”

I swear her bronze skin turns pale at the thought. “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe it’s best if you two stay just friends.” I nod in agreement but she pauses, her eyes softening as she assess me. “I wouldn’t have anything against the two you of you dating, you know that, right?”

Reaching across the table, I give her hand a squeeze. “I know, and thank you for that, but I’m in no position to give him the stability he needs right now. He has his daughter to worry about, and I don’t want to lead him along when I’m not even sure what I want.”

The truth is, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to date Malik, and I’d be lying if I hadn’t been tempted to say yes to one of the million dates he’s asked me on, but I don’t think I can be what he needs right now.

He needs someone who can step up for Asha and help him when he needs it.

He needs someone who is ready to step into parenthood and I’m not sure that’s me.

Not now, at least.

“Maybe just hook-up with him and get it out of your system?”

A laugh passes through my lips. “This is your brother we’re talking about, and I know you like hearing about my sexcapades but this will be one you won’t want to hear about.”

She hums in agreement. “Just think about it.” I tilt my head to the side. “I think the two of you would be really good together.”

We both take sips of our drinks and relax in the silence between us and the hum of the people around us.

“So, I’ve been seeing someone,” Imani tells me as she twists her wineglass in her hands.

I gasp. “You sure kept that quiet!”

Smiling, she shrugs her shoulders, as if to say yeah, I guess I did.

“Tell me about him.”

At the mere mentioned of him, she lets out a soft chuckle and shakes her head.

“He’s so lovely, Bids.” Imani speaks with a softness I’ve never heard her use before, and I watch as she drifts into her own world.

“He treats me with such kindness and respect, and he makes me feel wanted every hour of every day. I’m kind of obsessed with him.

” She sighs wistfully as she turns her attention back to me again.

I raise my brows. “Sounds like he’s been in the picture for a while…” She blushes. “So why am I only hearing about him now?”

The sound that passes through her lips this time is tense.

“Things have been complicated for him.” I narrow my eyes, waiting for her to expand.

“He was in the middle of going through a pretty rough divorce when we first started dating which made things hard, but now that it’s finalized we can start working on us. ”

From the way Imani looks down at her hands, I know that telling me this is hard for her. There are never secrets between us, apart from this one, and from the way she’s fiddling with her hands, I know it’s been difficult for her to keep it from me.

“I’m happy for you, Im,” I tell her honestly. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

A blush coats her cheeks. “You’ve already met him, actually.” She clears her throat and looks away from me with a sheepish grin. Imani leans in closer as if what she’s going to tell me something scandalous. “It’s Adam.”

I blink. “Your boss Adam?” She nods. “I mean, good for you. He’s a smoke-show.”

Her shoulders relax as she laughs and a proud look blossoms on her face.

“Right?” Just as I’m about to respond, her phone buzzes on the table and Imani reaches forward to see who the message is from.

“Oh, it’s Malik.” She waggles her brows, and I roll my eyes.

“He wants to come and join us. Is that cool with you?”

“The more, the merrier.”

I can’t fight the subtle and excited buzz that fills my belly at the mere mention of him.

Malik has his arm wrapped around his sister’s shoulders as the two of them throw back their third shot of tequila, and I wince at the sight.

Tequila and I do not get along.

Whatsoever.

I watch them in amusement as they each reach for a slice of lime, Imani gagging as she puts the wedge into her mouth.

I turn my head and look over at Adam, who sits on the other side of Imani with an adoring smile on his face.

A few hours after Malik joined us on the patio, the three of us decided to go to one of our favourite nightclubs downtown.

Adam called Imani, asking where she was, and when she told him he said he was on his way. I couldn’t remember what he looked like, but when he showed up dressed in a three-piece suit and a tote thrown over his broad shoulders, I immediately recognized his greying hair and stocky frame.

Malik bounced up from the stool he was perched on, holding out his hand and firmly shook Adam’s, and it dawned on me that this must be the first time they’re meeting each other based on the nervous and slightly uncomfortable grimace on Adam’s face.

Imani gnawed on her lip as she watched the interaction, and I saw her shoulders sag in relief when her brother pulled Adam into a hug.