Is an omission of truth still a lie?
“I know it does.” I feel her gaze scan me.
The gnawing feeling in my gut grows stronger. I’ve never outright lied to Lizzie, ever. It’s a slippery slope to disaster. The truth may hurt, but a relationship built on lies is doomed to failure. The fact I still haven’t told her about my past is eating away at me. But I’m not the bad bloke here. I protected the innocent at all costs, yet I don’t know if she’ll see it that way. What I’m capable of doing might very well scare the shit out of her.
The selfish side of me doesn’t want her to know, and it’s been winning out. I can’t lose her. She’s part of me. Without her I’m just skin and bones with no fucking soul. The logical side, the side which knows right from wrong, good from bad, knows I have no choice but to tell her.
I put the sandwich down, bitter bile rises in my throat, and I can’t take another bite. My insides churn and it feels like I’m swallowing battery acid. It’s now or never.
Clearing my throat, I tentatively approach. “Lizzie, I need to talk to you about something.” I finally blurt out the words, regretting them instantly. She was so happy a while ago. Fucking hell.
“Okay.” She extends the vowels, wary of what I need to say. She has every right to be.
“Perhaps it would be best to put Kai in his room. He doesn’t need to hear this.” I swipe my hand across my now perspiring forehead.
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, but she nods and takes Kai up to the temporary room he’s sleeping in while I decorate his actual bedroom.
I pace around the kitchen stopping to shake my arms and legs and fidgeting from one spot to another, trying to rid the tension while waiting for her. Fierce pounding racks my chest and a sinking feeling makes itself at home in my stomach, as I struggle to breathe. With each laboured draw of air I suck in, I try to find the strength to destroy my own happiness. My decision is final. No more fucking secrets.
When she returns, the panic on her face is unmistakable. My skin’s heated and the apprehension written all over her face reflects my own. There’s a deeper reason why none of the lads talk about these jobs. People are quick to judge, never stopping to try and understand our side of the story.
Yet even now, I know she still thinks there’s some other woman about to be revealed. How she could ever think I’d love anybody but her, I have no fucking idea. I’ve given her everything I have. And that’s the whole problem. I love her too much. If I didn’t, I could keep up the pretence that I’m a normal man who’s lived a normal life. The harsh reality is I don’t deserve this life. I never have. Good or bad, Kai deserves a daddy with no blood on his hands. They deserve to be safe. And safe isn’t with me without her knowing the truth. I’ve been selfish, and that ends now.
My history will not undermine my future.
“Sit down.” I point to one of the big chairs where we had our last serious talk. I grip the back of the other till my knuckles turn white. For the first time I realise how hard it must have been for her to tell me the truth. I’d rather be back where I had my face cut than be here now.
Lizzie sits down as instructed and almost immediately she begins fiddling the hem of the T-shirt. Restless, and not having the slightest clue where to start, I begin moving again.
This shouldn’t be so hard. This should free me. If she knows, I don’t have to hide anymore. But telling her could ruin everything. Destroy it all. I want to scream. How the fuck did I get myself into this? I need air, space. Fuck. I only need her.
“Noah, it can’t be that bad. It’s not like you killed someone, is it?” She’s trying to soothe me with words, but her choice in them makes mine a lot more fucking difficult. Why couldn’t she have mentioned me fucking other women again? That I could handle.
She has a right to know.
I stop pacing and turn, my gaze pinning hers. “Isn’t it?”
Her gaze shifts in restless movements over my features, as she studies me with worry, looking for the truth. I open up my soul and bare it to her. All its darkness and depravity on display.
“What are you trying to say, Noah?” Her brows knit again and her chest begins to rise and fall in rapid succession. I’m about to corrupt her whole world and she doesn’t even see it.
I’ve always been drawn by her innocence; she’s the light in my dark world. Now I wish she were anything but. I fear her naiveté won’t let her understand. She’s been through some rough shit, but nothing will prepare her for this.
“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” Frustrated, I run my hand through my hair, hoping it will buy me more time, but knowing it won’t. My fate is sealed. Once I tell her the cold truth there will be no going back. I hesitate, unsure if to continue with the truth or just lie. The lie seems much easier, the thought of losing her, and Kai, prevents my lips from forming words. But she deserves this. I owe her that much.
I slap both my palms against the wall and drop my head, trying to find the courage to admit what I really am. I’m a good man though; surely she knows that. Even so, I know there’s only way this will end. Badly.
“You served in the Army, I suppose I never—”
“I was a mercenary, Lizzie.” I can’t let her continue and there’s no way to sugar-coat the facts. It may have been under instruction from our country but it doesn’t change a fucking thing. Sliding my hands down the wall, I twist to face her. “A hit man.”
Her face cracks, her breath shuddering, and she begins to laugh. “You’re joking, right?” She gives me a once-over.
When my face doesn’t change, hers sobers, and her forehead creases. “But what about… what about the workshop?” She’s trying to rationalise, make the reality better, or change it.
“It’s my passion.” I clench and release my fists, trying to keep my voice level. “Working on cars is something I love to do. But I went on missions long before I opened Ignition. How do you think I got the money to start that place? From my parents? You should know by now, I do things my way. I don’t ask for hand-outs.”
Blood drains from her face and a sick paleness appears as her hand flies over her mouth, the realisation setting in. “Oh my god. You killed innocent people?”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” I spit out, but it changes nothing. I’m trying to reason with her, but my words fall on deaf ears. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t know who I am, she doesn’t recognise me, and it rips through me like a jagged knife tearing at my soul.
She looks… afraid.
Fuck.
A crippling ache starts to radiate from my chest. Any glimmer of hope perishes, blowing away like a pile of dust. With each painful breath, the sense of loss increases. I’m losing her. I knew I would but the reality hurts more than I could ever have imagined. It was unbearable the first time, but knowing this is all on me, that I caused this and there’s nothing I can do to stop the wreck from happening right in front of me, that’s an agony that can’t be described by words.
“That part of my life is over and has been a long time. I’m still me.” I beg her with my eyes to see I’m still me. I still have the same heart that’s currently shattering in front of her eyes.
“You’re a murderer.” The whisper-yell carves through me, as she delivers the punishing blow. I was never a murderer. I was a soldier who did my fucking job.
But she’s made her decision, decided our fate, and there’s nothing I can do but hope she remembers me, who I am with her. Hope it outweighs the bad she sees now.
It won’t make a difference if I tell her none of the people I killed were innocent. She still won’t understand, and it won’t change a fucking thing. I’ve still done some sickening shit, no matter how justified, and she’ll still think I’m a cold-blooded killer. The twisted thing is… I knew that’s how she’d see me, yet I gave her the match to light me on fire.