Page 105 of Never Leave, Never Lie

“The nightmares I have… there are things I can’t forget, things that still remind me. The sound of water over river rocks, or worse yet, rocks clattering against each other, a piano bench dragged across the floor, the smell of smoke, ash underneath my fingertips.” Alek met Ian’s eyes. “My father drowned my uncle in the river behind our house. I was there and I was so scared. I tried to save my uncle, but it was too late. I know now that it wasn’t my fault.’’

From there, Alek detailed the fire that followed and how he’d suffered to see his uncle and all of his things erased by the flames. “When my parents returned, my father acted as if nothing had happened, and my mother? She thought only of herself.” He explained how he’d followed her to the burned-down house. “Again, I was there. She killed herself, and it wasn’t my fault. I hate my mother. I’m still working on that too.” Alek released a shaking breath. “But even if I hate her, she chose death at her own hands. She felt she had no other option. I know what that feels like.”

Ian’s stomach clenched with nausea at the thought of what Alek had suffered, at how close Alek had come to joining his mother.

By the time Alek finished, he’d confirmed everything that Ian had pieced together and explained the things he hadn’t.

“How old were you?” Ian asked.

Alek looked down at his lap. “Eleven.”

Violence exploded inside Ian. He wanted to destroy Alek’s enemies and feast on his foes, but everyone was already dead and the only demons were Alek’s own. Instead, Ian took Alek’s trembling hand, and held it against his heart. Alek’s face lifted to follow the movement.

It was too easy to imagine Alek as Aleksandar, a child with eyes too big for his face, scared and alone and with no one to love him. Ian fought to keep the rage from escaping through his clenched teeth. He lifted Alek’s hand only long enough to kiss it, then held it tightly back over his heart again, wishing he could travel through time to save him sooner, to spare him from so many years of pain, to give back the love he’d lost.

“I still don’t know if my uncle was my father,” Alek said.

From his pocket, Alek pulled an envelope so worn and wrinkled it was shiny, as if it’d been worried over in his hands for years, which it probably had.

“This is the letter my uncle left me. I’ve never been able to read it. You make me brave, and I thought… perhaps you could be with me while I read it?”

“I’ll do anything you ask.”

45

ALEK

Telling Ian was one insurmountable hurdle off of Alek’s list. At first it had been terrifying, but the more he said, the stronger he felt. Now for the next item on his list. He clumsily ripped open the envelope and unfolded his uncle’s letter, but his hands shook and he couldn’t read the words.

“It’s okay, love,” came Ian’s low rumble. “I’ll hold it for you.”

Ian pulled Alek onto his lap, rested his chin on his shoulder, and held the letter out in front of them.

With a deep breath and Ian’s steady pulse thumping against his back, and forests all around him, Alek read:

Aleksandar,

Even the best-laid plans can go awry, and so if you’re reading this, I’ll write as if that is the case. Ideally, you’ll soon be on your way to join me. If so, I’d rather you stop reading here and refer to the following page which will give you instructions on how to find me. But if that’s not what happened, if I died and you mustgo the rest of the way on your own, there are some things I want you to know.

Firstly, you must know that I love you, that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, that everything I have ever done since you existed has been with you in mind, because you are my son.

Your mother and I were friends first, long before my brother ever married her. She was fierce and vibrant and insatiably curious. I loved her before I even knew what love was.

But I wasn’t the eldest son and my values didn’t align with the family, and back then, and even now, sons and daughters are their parent’s most valuable asset. It had been decided for as long as I can remember that your mother would marry my brother, but she was not an object to be taken.

I tried to convince her to leave with me, but we were both so young and she was scared to leave behind everything she’d ever known. The only choice we had was to love in secret.

After we found out about you, I finally convinced your mother to run away with me, and then, while we were still trying to sort out the details, our parents decided that it was time for your mother and my brother to marry.

I went to my father. Her father. I promised anything and everything to no avail. I told my brother the truth and begged him to let her go. He was furious. And your mother? She said she wouldn’t risk your future, but she was scared too, and I understood. I still do. Your mother chose my brother and ended things with me.

I fought—I promise—I fought for you, for her, for us, but your mother was resolute.

After time passed and my brother’s anger cooled, he agreed to let me remain in your life so long as he was your father, and I your uncle, and your mother was his wife, and nothing ever happened between me and your mother again.

I would sacrifice anything to maintain an active presence in your life, to spare you from the poison that runs through our family, so I agreed.

However cliche it may be, the day you were born was the best day of my life. You had a thick head of jet-black hair and bright eyes that soon turned a perfect mix of your mother and I, so vividly green but with the slightest hint of my underlying blue. When I finally held you, you looked at me like you knew and understood everything.

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