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Back Love and Other Lies Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Imagine a girl
  4. Prologue
  5. The Foreigner
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. The Skeptic
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-One
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. The Spectator
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. Twenty-Nine
  37. The Assassin
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. Thirty-Six
  45. Thirty-Seven
  46. Thirty-Eight
  47. Thirty-Nine
  48. Forty
  49. Forty-One
  50. The Hunter
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Imagine a girl
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Ben McPherson
  61. About the Publisher

She sat up, composed herself formally, legs crossed, arms at her side. “Yes, Cal. I love you.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Wow, what?” I could see the beginnings of uncertainty, of disappointment.

“Elsa?” I reached out, brushed the hair from her face. “You are completely out of my league. You do know that, don’t you?”

She smiled. “Kind of, I guess. But also no. You’re funny, and you’re gentle, and I’m pretty sure you love me. I feel we are on the way to something very intimate. But you didn’t ask me quite the right question yet.”

“What question is that, Elsa?”

“Ask me if I love you more than any man I’ve ever known.”

And now, the image of her, on that screen, at night, in somebody else’s room.

Nine

Some change in the balance of the day, as if a cool wind were blowing.

The smokers parted, turning as he passed among them. He paused, stood for a moment, watching over the park as a king might watch over his people, magnificent in his vestment of gray. Father Bror, whose hands had steadied me as he passed me a cup of coffee, while we stood watching the island from the shore, waiting for the news that never came. It had been a simple gesture, filled with humanity and kindness, and for a moment it had made me feel that after all there might be hope for Licia.

Bror. Just Bror.

He was walking slowly down the path toward me, looking neither right nor left. Behind him the smokers drew on their cigarettes, watching him all the while. I should thank the man, I thought, for the comfort he had brought me at that moment. Such quiet power he had; such peace; such charisma. Did he see me sitting under my dark tree? He passed so close I could have touched the hem of his vestment, yet I did not move.

I let him pass. I got up, walked to the center of the path, stood shading my eyes against the light, watching him go. By the road at the bottom of the slope he stopped, arms folded, as if waiting for a gap in the traffic.

I should speak to the man. It was that simple. I looked around. There was no sign of Elsa. But as I resolved to approach Bror a silver Land Cruiser drew up. He got in and the car sped off.

When I got home I stood at the threshold of Vee’s room, watching my daughter playing her game. She was frowning at the screen, her bottom lip curled against her teeth, hands gripping the game pad, eyes wide. On the screen her avatar was attacking the roof of a house with a pair of hand axes.

I began to turn away.

“Hey, Dad.”

I turned back. “I didn’t know you’d heard me, Vee.”