That assumption would have ruined him if anyone else had seen.
I close my eyes briefly, then open them again. This isn’t really about Mason. It’s about how quickly something private becomes dangerous and how little control there actually is once taking a chance is involved.
It’s also about how easily it could have been Ari and me.
I pull up the email screen and log in to my civilian account. I consider not writing. I also consider waiting and being sensible.
Both those ideas last about ten seconds.
Ari left me a way back. I don’t know what it’s a way to, but I do know I’ll never find out if I don’t take the risk.
From:[email protected]
Date:Friday, January 12, 1996, 23:32
Subject:Sneaky Russian
—Ari,
I’m back. Landed, cleared everything, got through without trouble. I know you’ll want to know that first, so there it is.
Iwasn’t going to write tonight. I told myself I’d wait, sleep it off, be sensible. You can see how well that went. I swear I used to have self-control.
Something happened tonight. I went out with the lads and tried to pretend nothing’s changed. I’m sure you can imagine how wrong I was. I caught Mason around the side of the pub kissing some guy. He forgot, just for a minute, how careful he has to be. Watching that happen in real time shook me up quite a bit.
I keep thinking about how thin the line is and how quickly something small like that turns into something catastrophic. Also, how easy it would be to misjudge things once and not get a second chance.
That should probably have scared me into keeping quiet and not writing this email.
It didn’t, clearly.
I miss you. Even more than I’m willing to admit, if I’m honest. Being back here hasn’t helped. Everything’s the same, but I feel like I’m standing slightly out of sync with it.
I don’t know what this turns into. I’m not sure how careful we’re meant to be, or what the right version of this looks like from here.
All I know is I love you.
Write when you can. I’llbe here.
—Caiden
The message disappears from the screen, and I lean back, breathing out slowly. It doesn’t feel like relief, not exactly. It feels more like something clicking into place and a line crossed without a clear view of what’s on the other side.
The only clear thing I see is Ari.
I log out and step outside; the air’s sharp enough to clear my head and I stand there for a moment before heading back to my room, letting the cold bite.
This is going to hurt; I already know that, but it’s my choice. A choice I’m very clear about making. And it’s one I’m willing to live with.
Fuck the consequences.
TWO
ARSENY
The first week without Caiden has passed by more smoothly than I thought it would, which is exactly the sort of thing that makes me suspicious. I recognise it almost immediately as a warning sign rather than a relief.
