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“No,” she said, her voice insistent. “Technically, he’s not allowed to because he was with the CIA on some kind of clandestine operation. Who knows what kind of trouble he could get into if people knew he told Brandon? And if Brandon told me, and I told you?”
“He could have told me that he was there and that’s why he got my letters.”
“Look, Mira. There’s a reason the Navy didn’t tell you or Dan’s family what happened to Dan. They were in Iran,” she whispered and leaned forward. “I’m not much into politics, but seriously, Mira. That could cause an international incident.”
I shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “So what?” I said, doubtfully.
“According to the State Department, Iran is deemed a state sponsor of terrorism. The US has sanctions against Iran. I know because Brandon told me and I looked it up. Iran would be really pissed if they knew the US military was inside their country. I mean, they know the US already goes in and stuff. But they’re not supposed to. That’s what.”
She took my hand and squeezed. “Look. Beckett couldn’t tell you that he knew who you were because then you’d want to know how he knew who you were. You’d want to know details about Dan’s death. Am I right?” she said and peered into my eyes.
I said nothing and glanced away. Of course, she was right that if I knew who Beckett really was, I would have asked him about Dan. How he died. What happened – whether Dan suffered.
We ate our bagels in silence, but I felt Leah’s eyes on me. She was so willing to forgive Beckett for lying. I was usually a pretty lenient person but when it came to lying…
“I can’t stand lies.”
She shook her head adamantly. “He didn’t lie. He just didn’t tell you. A lie of omission rather than commission.”
“They’re supposed to be better somehow?”
She nodded. “Of course. He didn’t tell you a direct lie. He just never told you.”
When I didn’t r
eply, she put her cup down. “Look, Mira, you should be glad to have met him. He fell in love with you from a distance and then fell harder when he met you in person. From what I could tell, you fell pretty hard for him as well. What would you have thought about him if he flat out told you that Dan saved his life in the accident? That he wanted to thank you and Dan’s parents and that’s why he was there?”
I shrugged one shoulder. It would have been different. I still would have been attracted to him. In fact, I might have been more willing to stay and have a drink with him that first night so we could talk about the accident. Maybe everything would have come out the same.
“I don’t know…” I said softly. “How can I ever trust him again?”
“He told you the truth about everything else, right? Did he tell you about his reprobate Irish mafia family members?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“His father’s death and the fact his uncle took the business?”
“Yes.”
“He told you about his work and his education, his mother’s family…”
“Yes.”
“He told you everything except about the classified operation he was on with the CIA when the accident happened that he shouldn’t have told me and Brandon about and that I shouldn’t be talking about?”
I sighed, but said nothing.
“Am I right?” she said, leaning forward, her eyes expectant.
“You’re right.”
“Okay, then,” she said and sat up straighter, her chin tilted up as if she’d just won a point. “Give him a chance.”
I sat thinking about that night in Beckett’s hotel room when I first saw the horrible scar on his neck and freaked. How it brought back memories of learning that Dan died in a helicopter crash. How I had to leave because it was all still too raw.
How must Beckett have felt, knowing that his injury was what got my husband killed? For just a brief moment, I put myself in Beckett’s shoes.
A very brief moment.
