The Devil Couldn't Break Me by Laura Aslan

simply walked away.
    It was inevitable that we would kiss again and we did at every given opportunity when we found ourselves alone. On one occasion we managed to sleep together in his room though we both made a vow that nothing sexual could or would happen. I lay semi naked next to Brian and we caressed each other and then fell asleep as he held me in his arms all night.
    A few days later Peter and Brian sat me down and said I would have to go. I was in shock and more than confused. I wanted to tell Brian that I never wanted to leave him but of course I couldn’t because Peter was there and I assumed he knew nothing of our intimate embrace. Peter appeared very rational and explained that the UN had found out about our arrangement which was very much against the rules. Brian sat on the corner of the sofa quietly nodding but said nothing.
    The atmosphere over the coming days was very strained and I longed for Brian to take me in his arms and tell me he’d worked something out so that we could be together but he never did. I couldn’t understand it, Brian was a single man and although there was a bit of an age gap we were very much alike in personality and our outlook on life. I put two and two together and assumed he didn’t have the same feelings for me as I had for him.
    To make matters worse, when I phoned Nani and asked her if I could come home she said categorically no. Things still hadn’t returned to normal and under no circumstances was I to attempt a return. I cried myself to sleep in the kitchen that night and woke up early the next morning with the headache from hell. Two days prior, in Brian’s arms I had been the happiest girl in the world and now I felt I was about to lose him forever. There were dozens of questions flying around my head, not least, where would I stay, when could I return home but the worst question banging around my head like a big bass drum was would I ever see Brian again. The thought terrified me.
    I cooked Brian and Peter scrambled eggs for breakfast then I drank coffee but ate nothing. The thought of food made me feel sick. We had breakfast in silence but a couple of times I asked Brian and Peter where I would go. They didn’t know, they said they would contact the translator and he would sort something out. I looked out of the window and the rain and sleet hammered against the glass windowpane which depressed me even further. It was still winter, albeit towards the end of the season and I knew that conditions in the UN refugee camps, in those canvass tents, were hell on earth. No heating, damp and miserable with a cold water shower block and one or two toilets for a hundred people or more. As my mind played tricks with me and I thought of the very worst scenario I burst into tears.
    Peter tried to comfort me.
    â€œHey Laura, don’t be silly we won’t throw you out into the street. We’ll make sure you are safe and if you don’t like where they put you, you can always come back.”
    I looked at Brian expecting a nod or a smile, but he sat there in silence. I noticed his omelette hadn’t been touched. I wanted to reach out and touch him, I wanted to say ‘te dua shume,’ be mine forever and I felt my heart breaking apart.
    Soon after they changed into their uniforms and got ready to leave. Just before they did there was yet another power cut and I lit a few candles. It was becoming an almost daily occurrence and although it was daylight it was still a dark gloomy morning.
    As Brian walked towards the front door he turned to face me.
    â€œDon’t be going outside,” he said. “Wait until we get back, we’ll work something out.”
    I moved towards him and gave him a hug. He didn’t respond at all. I wanted him to smile, I wanted him to take me in his arms and hold me, I wanted him to kiss me. Instead he pushed me away and reached for his blue beret on a hook by the door and disappeared into the gloom of the