by Chloe Liese
I reached for the conditioner and Nairne grabbed my wrist. Held my arm against her steadily beating heart and kissed it. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded, pulled my arm way, then flicked open the lid and doused my palm in a pile of conditioner for all of Nairne’s thick hair.
“One day toward the end, Dad had to go in for some meeting at the hospital. He was on leave technically, but he was a big wig and they needed him for something. Mom was having a good morning, so he went. I was on duty, which meant I’d sit with her, read to her and talk.”
Nairne’s hand came up to her face and wiped a tear, or shower water from her eyes. I didn’t know which, and I kept going.
“She asked me something.” My hands paused from working in the conditioner. “She asked me to help her end her life if it got to be too much.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Mom.”
“You won’t. You’ll be freeing me from pain, Zed. Your father’s too blinded by love to see what I need. And Teo’s too young still. You’re my strong one. My Zedekiah. You know your name means ‘God is just’? I’m asking you for that merciful justice, though I know that’s not fair to you, but I can’t die like this.” Two twin tears rolled down her cheeks.
I thumbed them away, then kissed her cheeks. “I’ll do it, Mama. I won’t let you suffer.”
Nairne’s shoulders stiffened and she turned to face me with an unreadable expression. “Did you?” she whispered.
I glanced down at my hands. The shit they’d done. “Yes.”
Nairne exhaled heavily. “Tell me.”
I brought the showerhead down to rinse her hair again.
“She said to me ‘It hurts so much, Zed. And sometimes I can’t find air. I don’t want to die like that.’ She’d looked at me so desperately, and Nairne, I do believe in euthanasia, but my own mother? I didn’t want to do that. Staring into her eyes that she’d given me, knowing I’d be the one who caused her last breath. I had enough sin on my hands by then.”
I put the showerhead back and stepped around her, grabbed my own shampoo, but she grasped my wrist again. “Sit,” she whispered.
So, I did, at her feet, leaning my back against her shower chair. She squeezed shampoo onto my hair and started scrubbing.
“I can still hear her sigh of relief. That’s what I hold onto.”
“Zed.” She rinsed my hair and her touch still felt loving and gentle. Like I hadn’t scared her away. “I don’t know what to say. That’s an impossibly hard thing to be asked.”
I couldn’t hear her condemnation if it was there. But I had to finish, get it off my chest, and see it through. “Four days later, she woke up really agitated. She was out of it and taking these horrible labored breaths. Dad was holding her, just crying. Teo sitting at her feet crying, too. Her face…wasn’t peaceful.” My voice broke and I cleared my throat, shook the water out of my eyes.
“Then she came out of it. Incredibly lucid. Gestured Teo to hug her. Whispered something in his ear that made him cry and squeeze her tight. Then she turned to me, and when I held her in my arms to say goodbye, she just said two things. ‘I’ll always love you. Please, now.’”
I sighed. “Since our conversation, I’d read. I knew how much was needed to be fatal. So, when Dad was absorbed with whatever she was saying to him, once she got quiet”—I took a ragged breath and stared down at the water streaming like tears toward the drain—“I raised her dose to exactly that. She fell asleep a few minutes later and didn’t wake up.”
Nairne’s arms closed around my shoulders as she pressed her lips to my hair. “I’m so sorry, love.”
My laugh was empty. “Why? I’m the one who has everything to be sorry for. I’ve kept this from you for the better part of a year that I killed my own mother—”
“You didn’t, Zed, and you know it.” Nairne’s voice was firm and sharp. I craned my neck and looked at her. “You did the merciful thing. You honored her request—”
I turned more fully to face her. “The request of a woman addled by cancer drugs and fear. What if I ended it before she was ready, took away moments she wanted?”
Nairne shook her head. “You don’t get to decide that. She was an intelligent and courageous woman. She knew what she was asking. And she trusted you.” Nairne’s eyes spilled tears. “She knew that you’d keep your word.” When she kissed me, I tasted absolution. “You did nothing wrong, Zed. Have peace.”
I breathed in her air, took her mouth, and believed in forgiveness.
Nineteen
Nairne
What a bloody morning. I’d decided to do my morning self-catheterization in front of Zed, because I’d been privately deriding myself for being so proud, keeping him out. I wasn’t ashamed of my physical needs and differences since my injury, but hiding it from him somehow implied that.
Of course that meant, given my luck, I’d have problems cathing. Then he fell to his knees, held me so tenderly, asked how he could help before watching and learning with devoted attention. I’d let him help me. And he’d done it without making me feel like it compromised the equality of our partnership.
And then he’d confessed his most painful secret. Zed trusted me with the truth of his mother’s death, and I fell a little more in love with him. Because, though he’d given me so much already—deep trust, a powerful presence that was as passionate as it was protective—he’d never made himself vulnerable like that before me. Given me his heart to protect and care for in the way he insisted on doing for me. He’d risked my judgment, and he’d set his head in my lap and let me comfort him.
That guilted me. I had my own secret to entrust to him, and waiting on it wasn’t making it any easier. I had to tell him, and soon. But like any secret, it got harder to confess the longer I waited. And I’d waited too long.
Zed was…temperamental. And this news would unequivocally upset him. First, I needed fresh air and a nap after our late, heavy breakfast to make up for my wild antics and short amount of sleep the day before. I’d spill my secret later and send Zed flying off the handle then, when I was fed and rested.
We picked up my antibiotics from the chemist’s and I swallowed them down immediately, because UTI’s were unfortunately a chronic issue that I had to keep in check so that they didn’t become more serious. Then Elodie, Zed, and I made a quick trek to the park near my flat, where trees and grass were that saturated green of deep summer, flowers exploding in bright borders of crimson, buttercup, and violet. A merciful breeze had convinced countless families, lovers, and friends to lounge in the blazing sun along with us. It licked along my skin just enough to make the heat survivable.
Elodie and I sprawled lazily on a blanket and fell in and out of sleep, as I stared at the carded wool clouds. Long flat strokes of creamy white, soft and gossamer. Zed lounged, too, propped on an elbow next to me with the Outlander book I’d given him. His warm chuckle punctured the quiet and I cracked an eye open, breathless as I looked up at him. The sun beamed overhead, and its golden rays bounced off his dark hair. He laughed again quietly and bit his lip.
Damn Gianno, talking about babies. I didn’t want babies. I had a disobedient body and a research to-do list longer than my forearm. Twenty-one-year-old biomedical engineers didn’t get themselves in the family way when their PhD program was just getting started. They buckled down on their studies, married themselves to their lab, and came up for air four to six years later.
And Zed was just starting a stunning European football career. He needed time to focus on his game, to travel and win championships and celebrate. Not to mention, babies needed committed parents. People who could promise to stay together and not holler and fight-fuck as a means of resolving disagreements. We were horribly unqualified on that front, so far.
No babies. None.
I had to be ovulating. That was it. Because Zed smelled extra good. And when I looked at his misbehaved bitter-chocolate waves, I thought about fat little ones with his same head of gorgeous hair. Those sparkling sea eyes and da
rk lashes. That stern temper, and bizarre sense of humor that usually shocked then made me belly laugh.
Zed snapped his book shut and tossed it behind him. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to have to throw you over my shoulder and take you in the nearest circumspect place.”
I blushed and shielded my eyes from the sun as I stared at him. “I’m ovulating.”
His eyebrows scrunched. “Okay,” he said slowly. “But you’re still on birth control, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Zed. I just meant it’s why I’m looking at you like I’m in heat. It’s because I am in heat.”
He laughed and took me by the jaw as he kissed me. “Got it. Just keep popping those little pills each day, and we’re all good.”
“Would it be that horrible?” I bristled.
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re asking me this? Miss saving-the-world-through-science who’s wading in live viruses each day?”
I sat up on my elbows. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m not. I’m saying you obviously wouldn’t want to be knocked up right now.”
A frisbee came soaring our way and Zed somehow anticipated it perfectly. He caught it and sent it zooming away from us. I frowned at him and tried to quell the irrational rage coursing through me. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Zed groaned as he sat up. “You being pregnant right now would not be…horrible.”
He said it like it would be horrible.
I stared at him, trying to unpack the unfamiliar unreasonableness of my feelings. Logically, pregnancy wasn’t convenient for either of us. Hell, I didn’t want it. But I wanted him to tell me that he’d like it with me. That if I were pregnant, he’d be happy.
This was why relationships were the piss. The massive amount of mental energy you spent worrying about what someone else thought of you, how much they wanted you, what was a deal-breaker. I was being ridiculous, and it had lots to do with sky-rocketing estrogen and progesterone levels that had my body aching to conceive and my prideful mind raging that he didn’t want to do it. It was madness, and while I loved being a woman, I hated the fact that my sensibleness sometimes felt a little enslaved to my monthly hormonal shifts.
“Forget it,” I mumbled. I fell on my back and glanced over at Elodie. She’d gotten wrecked last night, so it wasn’t surprising she was still tired and sleeping so deeply.
Zed sighed and scrubbed his head. “Nairne.”
“Seriously, Zed, please just drop it. Forget I ever said anything. I don’t want to get pregnant with you anyway. It would be horrible.”
His head snapped my way. “I’m sorry, what?” He leaned over me and pinned my wrists down. “Having my baby in you would be horrible? Why the hell is that?”
I stared at him flatly. “It wouldn’t be your baby in me. It would be our baby, then my body would singlehandedly make it. It would be horrible timing. Also, you’ve a terrible temper. When I have wee ones, one day, I want them even-keeled and calm. Rational little creatures, just like their mum.”
He snorted and let go of my wrists. “They’re coming from you, fragolina, they’re bound to be hot-headed.”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to settle down with an easy-going fellow. Some nice deferential chap. The gentle, quiet type that likes foreign films and makes pavlova.”
He straddled me and pinned my wrists down again. “Not funny.”
I shrugged. “Just calling it like it is. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience a less willing father-type.”
Zed shifted and pulled me over him. We had to look like we were in a wrestling match, but he didn’t seem to give a shit about what might come of people observing it. I was too angry with him to care either. “You’re never ending up with anyone like that. And you hate pavlova.” His hand crept down my back and cupped my arse. “You like assholes and dark chocolate brownies.”
I smiled but tried to hide it. “Do not.”
“I don’t like lies, innamorata.” He bit my lip as he kissed me. “And I won’t listen to you talk about anyone else but me knocking you up one day.” His eyes searched mine. “You’re confusing me. You run hot and cold. You have this grand plan for yourself, then you’re pissed I’m not saying I want to ruin it with sticking a baby in you right now.”
I sighed and dropped my forehead to his. “I’m tired and hormonal, and we’ve never talked about it, and Gianno said something last night that just planted a seed—”
“Oh, Jesus, between him and Dad. You have to ignore them, Nairne. It’s an Italian thing. Babies are life to them. Just pretend like he’s asking you when you’re going grocery shopping. Smile, say soon enough, then change the subject.”
I laughed harder and kissed him. “I’m sorry.”
Zed pulled me against him suggestively. “You can make it up to me…”
That uneasy feeling of being watched skittered over my skin. A shadow cast over us and I spun out of habit, flopping ungracefully off Zed. Lucas stood there, hands on hips, and scrunched his nose in distaste. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Zed grumbled. He sat up, then tossed his book at Lucas right where it counted.
Lucas caught it midway, and sat down. “Is that any way to greet your dear friend?” A newspaper landed between Zed and me with a heavy thwack. “There, muffin, you’ve officially arrived. Graced the front gossip page. Though it’s your bird who earned all the attention.”
Nerves churned in my stomach. It was an overreaction. And rationally, I’d known and accepted that staying with Zed meant paparazzi was inevitable. But I just kept talking myself down, telling myself that my fear was irrational. It had been years since Paris. My name was different. I certainly looked different, too. Wrong country. Wrong name. Wrong job. I wasn’t recognizable. I had to believe that, or I’d go insane with paranoia again.
Men who didn’t take no for an answer were the nightmare of all women, and when they kept following you around after they tried to drug and rape you, they made life a living hell. Elodie was the only one here who knew about it, who would make the connection between my past and how terrified the press exposure made me. Thankfully, she was still asleep, so she couldn’t bring it up, based on a reasonable assumption that I’d told Zed by now.
Which I should have. But I’d known he’d twist it. He’d worry and get all overbearing again like he’d been in Boston, obsessive about my safety and whereabouts. He was already highly cautious by having Tom on me. If he knew my past, it would be a hundred times worse.
I tried to smile while I sat myself up, and Lucas knelt my way to give me a hug hello. I caught him looking over at Elodie as he sat back.
Zed was flipping maniacally through the paper, then froze. “Shit.”
Lucas looked between us. “Don’t tell me you were trying to keep yourselves a secret?”
Zed sighed and rummaged through the picnic basket. “No, but Nairne doesn’t need paps swarming her all the time. She needs to be left the fuck alone, and I’m ruining that for her.”
I picked up the paper with a shaky hand. Shots of Elodie and me at the restaurant. One by the door with Zed kissing me. My face was exposed, my features recognizable. I glanced over to Zed. “It’s not a big deal.”
His face searched mine as he ripped the cork out a bottle of wine from our picnic basket and took a healthy swig. “The fuck it’s not. I knew this would happen. I’m like a damn albatross.”
“Oh, come now, Zed.” Lucas tugged the bottle out of his hands and took a drink. “It’s not that bad. You’ve got a beefy bloke watching Mac. She’s perfectly safe. Trust me, I went through it with the she-devil while I was here playing in the Prem.”
Lucas had been through a horrible break up before he left to play in the States, Zed had said. I’d never heard her name, because they refused to even say it.
Zed sighed and yanked the bottle back. “Yeah, except the bitch-who-must-not-be-named loved the paps, Lucas, whereas Nairne—”
/> I took the wine from Zed and had a long drink, then pulled it away from my mouth on a gasp. “I’m fine, lads. Seriously. Now let’s eat a picnic and stop talking about the bloody paps, eh?”
“Cheers to that.” Lucas grinned, but his eyes were locked over my shoulder.
Elodie was awake, staring about adorably. Her thick curls stuck out in all directions and a dandelion was caught in her hair. She stretched and blinked slowly.
“Lord, woman,” I muttered. Her shirt was caught along her bra and I reached back quickly to tug it down before she exposed herself more. Then I turned around to frown at Lucas who’d been enjoying the show.
“You had to go and ruin the fun, didn’t you?” he asked.
Elodie dropped her head on my shoulder. “Feed me,” she mumbled.
I built her a plate of food from the picnic basket and poured her a glass of wine, handing her both and earning quiet grunts of gratitude. She shoved a wedge of cheese into her mouth and closed her eyes in half-asleep contentment.
“Merci.” She sighed happily.
Lucas stared at her before his eyes flicked to me. “You two go a ways back?”
I patted her messy curls and smiled. “Youth academy.”
“Ah, you’re a footballer then,” he said.
Elodie sipped her wine and tried widening her eyes to wake up more. “Oui. When we signed for the same team in Paris, we got a flat together. Then we dominated the league, didn’t we, ma fille?”
“That we did. Read each other’s minds on the pitch.”
Elodie smiled into her cup. She froze, then glanced up at Lucas. “Wait, what’s he doing here?”
Lucas squinted against the sun as he looked at her. “Do you even remember me?”
“That’s very rude of you. Of course I do. At the hospital, you were wearing a—” She bit her lip. “I mean, yes, vaguely. I remember you. Last night, you were being rather handsy with me.”
“I caught you,” he corrected. “A bit of misbehaved flooring gave you trouble.”
