No More Lies
Ten Years Ago
It was our last night in Argentina. We’d decided it was time to go back to the US and make it official before the baby was born.
We’d made it all the way to the tip of Patagonia, exploring everything we could find, but I was very pregnant, and now it was time to go home.
I missed Margot, and I had a job offer from a friend I’d previously worked with, who had taken over a food magazine.
She wanted me to run their specialty-food section, which meant I could work from home.
Trey could get work anywhere, but given his financial acumen, I’d introduced him to my aunt and uncle over FaceTime.
They’d all hit it off, and I knew a job would be waiting for him upon our return.
We could get married, have our baby, and be a little more settled for a while.
It was not something I ever thought I wanted, until Trey.
Until the creature we made that kicked my bladder all day and night, turning somersaults in my stomach.
Until I fell in love with the idea of permanence.
Until I was tamed by a beautiful man who adored me completely.
That last afternoon, we were sitting in mildly uncomfortable chairs outside a coffee shop in Bariloche, gazing out at Nahuel Huapí Lake.
Despite enjoying the stunning beauty of the little alpine town, I was feeling a bit off, the altitude affecting me more than usual, and Trey had been jumpy all day.
Looking over his shoulder like he was expecting someone to appear.
“What’s wrong?” I’d asked, but he shook his head and frowned.
“Later,” he said gruffly.
It was so unlike him. He wasn’t the kind to shy away from sharing his feelings and thoughts, nor to be snappish with me.
We’d been in a steady conversation since the day we met.
He’d always been open and frank. He didn’t like to talk about his parents, but I didn’t, either.
Losing my mom made it hard to revisit her casually, so I was content to stay away from these memories out of respect.
And the situation with my dad was so complicated that Trey needed to hear about nothing other than the very basics.
I veered away from thinking about either of them much, and that was best.
My dad’s habits had become mine for a while, but I’d walked away from it all after Roger’s death.
I’d told Trey a little about what happened in France, but certainly not everything.
The timing hadn’t been right, and Trey never pushed.
I mean, what do you say, anyway? My former lover and my former boss got in a fight, and one killed the other?
And I was too high to do anything about it?
Trey and I didn’t fight, either. Yes, we’d had a few disagreements, but nothing more than getting too tired or hungry, or hormonal, in my case.
So when he snapped at me that morning, I was instantly alert.
We got the check, did our usual walk around town, grabbed a snack and water for me, another café con leche for him.
I took photos, enjoying the brilliance of the blue sky and lake against the snow.
Later, with my swollen feet up on the couch, back in the warm rooms where we’d been staying, I asked again what was wrong.
“Is there anything I could do that would make you not love me?” he queried.
His back was to me, the line of his shoulders tense and uncompromising.
“I mean, if I found out you hated dogs, that might pose a problem.”
He laughed without sound. “Seriously, Brooklyn.”
“I love you no matter what. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I do love you no matter what. But I can’t pretend that there might be something you do—or have done—that can change how I feel.
I’m human, so are you. People fall in and out of love.
They get bored. They cheat. They die. I have no way of telling the future.
Why—is there something that would make you stop loving me? ”
He scoffed. “Nothing. You could murder someone and I’d stand by you.”
I hesitated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“As long as it wasn’t you. You wouldn’t be standing.”
He whipped around, eyes flashing. Angrier than I’d ever seen him. “God, Brooklyn. I’m trying to be serious here. I’m trying to tell you something important.”
“I’m sorry. I’m listening. Talk to me, babe. Something’s got you upset. Do you want to stay?”
“No. We need to leave. We need to go. I’m not thrilled that we’re flying home, but we have to.”
Trey was a very nervous flier. “We can drive,” I offered.
“That would take a month at least, and I don’t want something happening on the road. It’s better to fly.”
“All right. So what’s the problem?”
“I saw someone earlier. From my past. Someone who shouldn’t be here.”
I sit up. “Okay. Someone followed us here?”
He nods.
“And what do they want?”
“To remind me.”
“Trey, you’re not making sense.”
“I made someone a promise, and I haven’t delivered.”
“What is it? This promise?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “That you don’t need to know. Can’t know. It’s too dangerous. Shit, this whole conversation could get us both in serious trouble.”
“Now you’re scaring me.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, forget I ever said anything. Everything is fine, okay? We’re going home. And nothing will bother us again.”
“You don’t get to hint at something dreadful, then just walk it back like it’s nothing. Tell me what you promised. Who you promised.”
But he shook his head.
“I’ll take care of this. You rest.” And he disappeared out the door.
I went to the window and waited for him to leave the hotel. He did, moments later, striding out into the plaza and down the alley.
What the hell was that all about?
When he came back, it was dark, and he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
He went straight to the shower and stood there until the hot water ran out.
Finally, he wrapped a towel around his hips and sat on the edge of the bed, a hand splayed across my belly.
The baby flipped over lazily, showing off for his father.
“Now will you talk to me?” I asked gently.
“It’s all fixed. Nothing to worry about.”
“So you kept your promise?”
He sighed. “I did.”
“What was it?”
He was quiet for so long, I thought he wouldn’t speak. But finally, he did, and rocked my world.
“I can’t tell you everything, okay? Certainly not details.
And that’s for your own safety, as much as mine.
” He crawled onto the bed, tucked me into his arms. “There are going to be things about me, about my life before us, and maybe after us, that I can’t share with you.
There may even be times when I need to disappear for a little while.
I will always come back, Brooklyn. Always. ”
“What are you, some sort of spy?”
“I’m not a spy. I came here for you. I will always protect you.”
I pulled myself away from his embrace. “I don’t need protecting.”
“Yes, you do. You’re my responsibility, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Ever.”
“Trey, you’re not making sense.”
“Babe, there are bad people in the world. Sometimes you have to compromise yourself to make sure the ones you love are safe.”
“Did these bad people find you?”
“They found you.”
“Me? What does that mean?”
“Babe, I know.”
I froze. “What did you say?”
“I know, Brook. I know what really happened in Thiviers.”
The memories rush me like a charging bull—the riverbank, the gunshot, Alex’s shocked face, Roger cold and still, the screams—and I twist away with a cry.
“You can’t possibly be serious right now.”
“I’m dead serious. And I’ve taken care of it, okay?”
“What is there to take care of? I didn’t do anything wrong! And what the hell is this, Trey?”
I stomp over to the window, look out into the dusty square. It is deserted, but I feel their eyes watching.
“I told you. The French government thinks you had something to do with Roger Bandolier’s death.
A man who was part of the show came to them with testimony that you provided Bandolier with the drugs that killed him.
They’ve been looking for you. That’s why we’ve been traveling so much.
I’ve been keeping us ahead of them. But they found us, and they wanted to extradite you.
So I’ve made them understand you were not involved.
It took the rest of the money, but we don’t have to worry about this anymore. ”
“You need to explain yourself. Who in the hell do you work for?”
“Let’s just leave it as a government agency, okay? Seriously, Brooklyn, I can’t tell you anything else. I’m sorry I lied to you. I will never lie to you again. I’m out now. That was the conversation I just had. I’ve quit. No more.”
“You just quit. Over me?”
He laughs, short and exasperated. “I didn’t foresee any of this happening.
Falling in love with you was not part of the plan.
My having a wife and a kid was not encouraged.
But you and the baby mean more to me than anything.
So I quit. We’re going to have a quiet life together.
We’re going to raise our family and live in suburbia and do the school pickup line and host backyard barbecues and I’ll coach Little League.
We’re going to live the dream, together. ”
“I’ve seen the movies, Trey. ‘Getting out’ is impossible. They always come back.”
He kissed me, soft and slow. “I will do everything in my power not to leave you again. But if I do, I swear to you, I will be back.”
“And if something happens to you, and you can’t?”
“You will be taken care of, love. You will want for nothing.”
My anger is bleeding away in the face of this man whom I love more than my own life. Who has taken it upon himself to eradicate my sins.
“But if that happens, I won’t have you. I’d rather be destitute. I don’t like this, Trey. It feels wrong.”
“I know, baby. I should have told you sooner. But you’re safe with me, okay? I’ll always keep you safe.” He kisses me deeply. “I’m yours now. And I will do anything for you, Brooklyn. Anything. Lie, cheat, steal, kill. Anything, if it keeps you safe.”
Now
I open my eyes and try to put the dominoes in a straight line.
Trey would do anything to keep me safe. I believed him then, and I believe him now.
Yes, a decade ago, Trey was sent to find me in Mexico.
Yes, Trey and I fell in love, and he quit his ultrasecret job with the government so we could be together. I didn’t even know whose government he worked for.
Yes, he knew about Thiviers, about the night both Alex and Roger died. How, I don’t know. There were only three people there. Alex, Roger . . . and me.
Yes, we’ve lived in comfort and quiet for the past ten years, until Trey did something so utterly stupid and out of character—stealing money from my uncle—and set us on this collision course.
Why? Why now? What in the world is he up to?
I have to trust him. I trusted him ten years ago, and I have to trust him now.
I’m asking the wrong questions.
Who was the man who ratted me out to the French police all those years ago? Trey said he didn’t know, but I think he did.
An absolutely nuts idea floats to the surface.
The money. He’d given money to whoever had come for me in Argentina to go away.
What if they’ve come back?
What if he’s been paying them off all this time?