His Lie Count Stayed Zero for Five Years — Till His Assistant Came Chapter 09

Six months later, my performance earned me an opportunity for a long-term assignment at our East Coast office.

Once I left, I had no idea when I’d return.

The day before my departure, I saw Elliot again outside my office building.

He looked even thinner than he had that morning at the Embarcadero.

He seemed to have lost some of his energy, as if he’d aged several years.

He still forced a smile that looked more painful than crying.

“I heard you’re transferring to the East Coast office. Congratulations.”

I nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t say anything.

Elliot changed the subject, his voice tinged with pain.

“Jen, at first I thought I was just helping a young woman trying to make it on her own in a big city. I thought she needed someone to look after her.”

“I thought I was keeping everything within reasonable boundaries. I hadn’t done anything inappropriate. I hadn’t done anything to wrong you.”

“But I was wrong. I was wrong from the very first time I let her start sharing things with me.”

“Jen, I really thought one lie, one time looking after her, couldn’t be that big a deal. I…”

I interrupted before he could finish.

“Elliot, maybe one lie or one time taking care of her really wouldn’t have been such a big deal.”

“But could you guarantee you’d only lie to me once? That you’d only rush to take care of her once?”

“It was my birthday, and you went to take care of Renee because she had period cramps.”

“What if Renee and I both ended up in the emergency room on the same night? Would you invent another work emergency so you could rush to her hospital room instead of coming to mine?”

Panic flickered across his face.

“Jen, I wouldn’t. That would never happen…”

“You once told me you’d never lie to me, either. And then you did.”

“So I can’t take that gamble. I can’t gamble on who you’d choose if we both needed you in a crisis. I can’t gamble on which of your promises you’d still keep and which you’ve already fulfilled for Renee.”

I spoke slowly and calmly, as casually as if I were commenting on the weather.

But Elliot’s face grew paler with every word.

His shoulders began to tremble.

Then he slowly crouched down, buried his face against his knees, and covered his head with both hands.

I couldn’t see his expression, but his whole body was shaking.

The ground beneath him slowly grew wet.

One drop. Then another.

Elliot was crying.

I said nothing.

I gently crouched down and set a packet of tissues beside him.

Then I stood and spoke quietly.

“Elliot, I’m leaving. Unless something unexpected happens, we’ll never see each other again.”

I looked one last time at the number above his head.

Eight.

It stayed there, unchanged. Somehow, it didn’t seem quite so glaring anymore.

Because I’d finally accepted that the man I’d loved for five years—the man I’d trusted without question—had lied to me, too.

I turned and walked away without hesitation.

The next day, I boarded a plane to New York City.

The numbers still floated above everyone’s heads.

A flight attendant passing by told another passenger, “We should land in New York in about six hours.”

Unexpected turbulence delayed us by two hours. By the time we landed, the number over her head had changed to one.

I knew nobody could go through life without ever lying.

Yet I’d always believed love should remain absolutely faithful to the very end.