Curiosity kills the cat. Satisfaction brings it back. It has to. That is the reason I am in this café, waiting for David after I made the spontaneous decision to see him. I pull my oversized tracksuit over my belly, trying and failing to blend in with the scanty crowd.

A wave of nostalgia hits me when someone passes with a tray of fish and chips. I need to call Clarissa. I don’t understand how we let life, thesis and coursework pull us apart but we need to meet. Sending her a short text, I roll my lip between my teeth while awaiting her reply. If she replies before David comes, I will cancel our meeting. She comes first.

I shouldn’t be here.

That seems to have become my new mantra and each time, things turn out better than I expect. I hope it’s the case today. Taking a swig from the water bottle on the table while I wait for the first person to show up, I try to push the nagging thoughts out of my head.

They always revolve around the same things. Brandon’s dead twin. His reaction to Josh’s gift. The unusual quiet in the house. I suppose I can ask him that when he decides to talk to me but I haven’t been able to process the information Josh dropped on my laps. Let alone attend to the whims of a man who has mood swings worse than that of a pregnant woman. He won’t talk to me, I won’t talk to him either. I am tired of talking.

Yes, we greet. We sleep on the same bed because I cannot imagine spending the night anywhere outside his arms but our conversation has taken a lull which I am not willing to revive. Maybe I am hurt by Josh’s revelation, more than finding out about Brianna but if he reaches out to me first. If he, for the first time in our marriage, tries to talk to me about the problem without the usual nudge from me, I might make the next move.

But until then, I’ll endure the silence. I need it to round up my thesis and final exams. As I remind myself of my goals, I can’t tune out the voice saying I’ll cave sooner than later. I believe the voice is right but I will try. Even if it is for another day, to make it a full week.

My phone pings with a text from Clarissa: Busy, raincheck? I should pick my phone to call or text her but I don’t, I just stare at the message long enough for the words to blur. To my greatest relief, David texts me an apology and a plea to hold on a little longer, he will be here in ten minutes. I nod like he can see me, quickly typing up a reply to him.

To be honest, I have no idea why I am here.

Maybe I want to know what he knows to make sure he doesn’t start fake rumours in the name of reviving his career. Maybe I am ready to listen to him like I should have done the first time he approached me. But who will blame me? A young man walks up to me and asks me to look up a name that doesn’t exist. I am bound to think him a charlatan.

The chair in front of me creaks as someone pulls it out, I look up to see David. “Don’t stand up on my account,” he says and I stare down at my body halfway out of the chair.

I nod, offering David a sheepish smile as I lower myself back to my seat. Standing takes too much effort anyway. Like me, his outfit reveals no skin. Partly due to the chill in the air. A brown sweatshirt that covers his knuckles and a muffler hanging around his neck.

With concealed interest, I watch him make an order, when his head tilts in my direction, I shake my head. He looks better with extra flesh on his cheek, the best I have seen him since our meetings but I don’t want to spend his money. I am not sure he has enough.

“My treat,” I say when the waiter calls out the full amount of his order and for the fun of it, I order a large milkshake for him when his eyes linger on it. I don’t know why. I will never know why but his shy smile before his lips close over the straw is all that matters.

I am left with my thoughts for company as he nibbles on his meal. Of late, my appetite has declined, my baby understands my state of mind. The burger finishes quick, for the same unknown reason I bought him a milkshake, I order another bigger sized burger after forcing an approval out of him. Even if he tries to hide it, I can tell he is still hungry.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks when the burger is placed in front of him. I nod but he doesn’t seem satisfied with my response. “Mrs Stark, you don’t have to do this, I’m fine.”

To have him feeling at ease, get him to drop the formalities, I murmur with a laugh that sounds fake to my ears, “I know but consider it payment for taking too long to contact you.” His eyes twinkle with gratitude, I smile. I understand his reluctance to accept it.

It is the same way I used to feel about admitting my needs to people, especially Ma and Pa. “What do you want to know?” Dropping his half-eaten burger on the table, he clasps his hands and a slow smile spreads to his lips. “What made you change your mind?”

“I spoke to Brandon,” I say, managing to convince even myself. I must be getting better at lying since he doesn’t flinch. “I want to know what you know.” Begging him shows a sign of desperation but I feel an odd kinship with him. I hope my gut is right. “Please.”

“Where do I start?”

“The beginning? Middle? Or end?” I say and a smile curls my lips. Brandon would have understood but David looks on, confused and I cringe. I clear my throat, drowning under the ensuing silence. “Start from the top. Anywhere. How do you know Brendan?”

Silence befalls us while David ransacks his bag slung over the arm of an empty chair. I shrivel when he pushes a notepad to me. My heart thumps wildly, I came here because I wanted to know things. Things that might explain the unforgivable sin Josh mentioned. But seeing his mini notebook, all I want to do is scream while fleeing. Away from here.

“Open it,” he says. I don’t. I cannot. “Fine, I’ll start from the accident.” Due to his accent, his words roll into one, I have to ask him to repeat himself. “The accident, is that okay?”

The curt nod I give him encourages him to start, he regales me with a summary of the events leading to the accident. The Stark brother preparation for the position of CEO.

At the umpteenth mention of Brendan without a single word about my husband, I lean forward to ask, “Why do you keep mentioning only one of the twin brothers?”

David shrugs. “I didn’t know they were twins then.” Unable to share in his excitement, I manage a smile. “As soon as Brendan died, he ceased to exist and Brandon came to life.” My brows almost hit my hairline, he laughs. “I don’t know why they felt the need to do that. Replace him.” Josh’s words are like a sharp hit to my brain, I sink my nails into my palm, they act like Brendan never existed. Why? “But I can’t question their decision.”

I make a strangled sound at his reply. He’s questioning their decision, he always has, if not, we won’t be here. I wouldn’t have known. “The Starks’ are too secretive,” he says.

“Conservative.” David peers at my face with a soft smile. By the virtue of my marriage, I am now a Stark and the most I can do is defend the name. “They are conservative.”

He nods. “They wanted to mourn without the public’s interference, especially the ever nosy paparazzi,” I say with a pointed look at him and we share a laugh. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret or conspiracy theory. They might have been identical twins but they had their differences.” It is odd talking about someone I never met in past tense, I feel guilty.

David’s face wrinkles, I retrieve my phone and make an elaborate show of highlighting the difference in the brothers’ noses when the picture of Brendan and Brianna appears.

When he raises his head, gobsmacked by the little observation he missed, I sit up, back stiff with pride and cock my head. “What do you intend to achieve?” I ask. “Asides fame.”

He has no ties with the family, yet he won’t stop digging for information no one cares about at this point. Their logic might be as skewed as Brandon’s but if the family thought it necessary to wipe out traces of their son’s existence, he has to respect that.

I also have to.

As soon as Brandon explains to me why he didn’t think it necessary to tell his wife about his dead twin. But it doesn’t add up. Yet. I am missing something. They kept the tragic news from the public and that’s okay but to pretend it never happened to the point Josh snaps? I close my eyes and exhale before the theories suffocate me. I am getting ahead of myself, David has influenced me. Maybe they are all in denial. Death is harsh. It hurts.

David snaps his finger in front of my face, I blink, my lips split into a contrite grin and he shakes his head with a small smile. “I said, I don’t think it was an accident,” he whispers.

It was. As a journalist, his job is to create clickbait headlines and stories that will draw people in and this is one of those cock and bull stories that makes sense only on paper.

“Why do you think so?” I ask to give him the benefit of the doubt with no interest in his reply. His response is a half-smile. “Do you have evidence to support your claim?” His head moves left and right. The guts of him. “I hope you don’t go telling people that?”

His laughter is pleasant to the ears, I relax. “You are the first one to hear it from me.”

“And the last,” I finish. Crossing my arms, I smile at his curt nod and he releases a sigh. He needs a hit story but it can’t be this one. “Let the family be.” Counting on the fact he has been a gentleman, I add, “It is a sore topic. Don’t start rumours except you are sure.”

“What if I’m right? What if I bring evidence?”

Evidence that doesn’t exist. But I nod. “Then I promise we will bring the murderer to justice. And you will do the honours of telling the story.” My reply pleases him, he grins.

“I like you.”

Rolling my eyes, I say, “I’m married.” He chuckles, I pick my phone and send him two pictures. His head raises slowly, if he wasn’t seated, I am certain he would have collapsed. “Do with it whatever you want.” Taking his hand in a firm handshake that signifies the last of our meeting, I say, “You have my permission. Have a nice day, David.”