Lie to Protect Her (short story)

       “I can't be with you unless you're absolutely certain!” She cries out through her tears.

       “I am certain! I've told you that a thousand times tonight alone! You just won't believe me...” He replies, his head dropping in defeat with the realization that she could never be convinced.

       “I'm sorry...” She sobs. “I can't do this anymore.”

       “Okay.” He answers softly, stopping himself from sobbing. “I'm sorry. I'll go.”

       In one night came the end of an era. The two of them had been together for almost four years. They had plans together, a future filled with coffee dates and late nights. They were looking for an apartment together when he was struck with a wave of doubt. Suddenly he wasn't certain he still loved her, and subsequently doubted whether he should move in with her. So he found ways to delay it, at least until he figured it all out.

       This went on for months before one of her friends suggested to her that he might be stalling it on purpose. This idea developed in her mind until one day she could be pregnant with it no longer, and birthed it into their relationship. There was nothing he could say or do to distract her from the question and was soon forced to make a choice – to lie or to come clean. He chose the honourable route, the one that led to the end, to goodbye.

       Three months after, another sleepless night prompts them to talk. It's 3 am and the two of them are alone in their beds, their laptops open beside them. She wants to talk on the phone – to hear his voice again – but is too afraid to ask. He does too, but is afraid he won't be able to say what he wants, that he'll give into the beauty of her singing voice. So instead they chat on Skype.

       “How've you been?” He asks.

       “Alright. You?”

       “Been better.”

       She's typing something and he waits with anxious anticipation. What he wants to see is exactly what he doesn't want to see.

       “I miss you.” Blunt. Brave. Honest.

       He considers lying.

       “I miss you too.” Honest but hesitant.

       Neither of them say anything, waiting, hoping, for the other to say something. It's like they're confessing their love for the first time, holding it back praying the other will say it first, terrified of risking it all. But eventually one of them has to fold.

       “Do you still love me?” She asks.

       He starts typing, writing a long paragraph telling her everything – how he had always loved her, how he would always love her, how much he wanted her back. He writes how the moment he told her of his doubts, they disappeared, how the past three months were spent wishing he had never been so stupid. He stops and reads it over. He deletes it and replaces his confession with a lie.

       “No. I'm sorry... Goodbye.”

-Zero