Her chin wobbles, and she slowly nods out her reply.
“Do me a favor?” I ask.
“Anything.” I swallow back emotion because I know she means it.
“Tell me a joke.”
Her lips turn up slightly. “I don’t know any,” she says as we walk out to the waiting SUV.
“Maybe we should work on that.”
She beams at me from where she stands at the open door, and I’ve earned my first smile in what seems like ages. It’s enough.
We board the plane along with a few other injured soldiers who are also heading home. Scottie follows me to the back, taking the seat beside me. We spend most of the ride talking about anything but the huge elephant in the room. My heart constricts as she talks of more plans I won’t be a part of, more of the life she’ll live without me. The only consolation I feel is that her words seem rehearsed, as if she’s rehashed them in her head a dozen times before she spoke them aloud to me. I wasn’t sure how she’d act after last night, but avoidance is the way she’s chosen to handle it. I considered doing the same but decided that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell her. With less than an hour left in the air, I decide now is as good a time as any.
The cabin is dark, and Scottie’s sleeping face is illuminated by the light from my little TV screen. I study her sleeping form, her long blonde lashes, and the light dusting of freckles that I hadn’t noticed before. Her lips are puckered and twitching just slightly. It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to lean in and press my lips to hers. She looks so peaceful, and I hate to wake her, but I’m almost out of time. I squeeze her fingers, which are still interlocked with mine, and she jerks awake.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe. It’s just me. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry I dozed off.” Her lips draw up—a tell she’s fighting emotion. She drifted off watching me; I know that much. If I’m reading her right, she didn’t want to miss a minute, and we were on the same page. Swallowing hard, my chest constricts.
“Jesus Christ, is it always this goddamn painful?” I say on a whisper.
“What?” She straightens in her seat, her eyes alert. “What hurts?”
I cover my chest. “This. What I feel. This. Fucking. Hurts.”
Nausea churns in my stomach, and I swallow a few times, trying to dislodge the lump that has formed in my throat.
Her face crumbles as she hangs her head. I lift her chin with the tip of my finger. “I just…I can’t let you go without telling you how I feel, in case there’s even the slightest chance that maybe you feel the same way.”
Her head begins to shake, and I lift my finger, indicating for her to give me a second.
“Don’t. Don’t stop me because then I may never finish, and I can’t live the rest of my life with that regret. This is purely selfish, and I realize that.” I’m trembling with fear. I’ve been to war. I’ve shot people, and I’ve been shot at. I’ve been locked in an underground bunker and tortured within inches of my life, and I have never been as frightened as I am in this moment, because I’ve never had so much to lose.
“I’m not sure exactly when it happened, and I know that it’s wrong, but I’ve never been more certain of anything than I am about the way I feel for you. The timing is bad”—I cough out a sarcastic laugh—“it’s shit, and it won’t ever be right. You’re married…and you have a kid. Christ, I know his name. Noah. I know all of it—everything—because I asked. Because I had to know. And now I’ve become the asshole selfish enough to tell you how I feel, because even if you don’t feel the same and nothing ever comes of it…I need you to know that you are part of me now, the most precious thing in my life.”
She touches her fingers to her trembling lips as her eyes spill.
I squeeze her hand. “Don’t. It’s okay. I just had to know, had to be sure. Now I know.” Cursing my stupidity, I look away from her, and I try to force myself to pull away. I should’ve kept it to myself. I shouldn’t have burdened her with my fucking feelings. It’s wrong. I’m wrong, so why doesn’t it fucking feel wrong? Why can’t I regret it?
Her words spark me back to life.
“I feel it too.”
She gives me a weary look. “And I’m—I’m scared. I’m so scared to go home, feeling what I feel for you, but this has to end here. I do love my husband, and I love my son, more than life, and they don’t deserve this.”
Panic rises as I feel our time start to tick out. Guilt threatens, but I temporarily push it down as I battle the clock, feeling every second. “I may burn in hell for this, but I can’t help what I feel. We’re only given one shot at life, and no matter how much it hurts, I’m glad I took mine. There’s a reason we were thrown into that bunker together. I have to believe that. You were destined to be a part of my life. You’ve changed me. No matter where this journey takes us, when I close my eyes, it will be your face I see. When I breathe my last breath, your name will be on my lips. I need you to know that—for you to know how incredible you really are. In another lifetime, I know we’d have been perfect together, and I’m certain you feel that too. I see it in your eyes, and I felt it. I still feel it. And I have half a mind to beg life to repeat that hell, just to be with you. I’d do anything to keep you with me.”
Her face falls, and she bites her lips and turns to look out the window. I see a lone tear trail down her cheek. “I wanted to know.” She brushes her tears away as she turns to me. “How you felt. I wanted to hear it from you. I’m selfish too. But I can’t say anything more that I can’t take back.”
Every part of me feels like it’s being ripped apart. I hang on for her. I hang on because she’s with me. I’ll allow myself to shatter once she’s gone.
“I’m not sure of anything. But I know this,” she whispers softly. “It only feels this way when it’s real. And there’s this whole other side, a side you deserve, a side I can’t give you.”
I nod because I’ve already said too much. She’s handed my heart back to me, and I’m unsure of how I’ll handle its new broken rhythm. As we file out into the airport, the back of our hands touch up the ramp. Outside the gate, I damn the consequences and pull her to me, and she holds me back. “One last favor,” I ask before I lean down and whisper words I know she needs to hear from me. She nods as she grips me tightly to her. “Run far and fast, dance that sexy dance, have that second baby. Smile, Scottie. Lighten up, tell jokes, live a long and happy life, for me.”
“Please don’t hate me.”
“Not a fucking chance.”
I pull away with what’s left of me as she steps back, her hand fisted in her hair and tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she whispers before she turns, and I watch her walk away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Katy
“This is your captain speaking. We’ll be touching down shortly at Killeen-Fort Hood Regional Airport. Temperature is forty-two degrees with cloudy skies. We hope you’ve enjoyed your flight. Welcome home, Soldiers.”
I’m hoping for cloudy skies.
Mullins.
My head falls back on the seat while I bite my lips to keep my emotions at bay. Miles away from his hold, I close my eyes tightly as the wheels touch down. I’m no longer his, but that’s not how it feels.
As we taxi to the terminal, my pulse begins to race with anticipation. The flight attendant’s instructions are drowned out by the sound of my own heartbeats thundering in my ears. After weeks of thinking I’d never see them again—never hold my baby boy in my arms again—I’m finally here, and it feels too good to be true.
Noah.
Mind swirling, heart aching, I try to focus on my son, but I can’t get Briggs’s confession out of my head. How will I be able to greet my husband properly, feeling the way I do for another man? I’m so confused. I betrayed him, and yet, somehow…I can’t convince myself that it was wrong. I can’t even pretend that I regret it. What Briggs and I shared was beautiful, and I will cherish it for the rest of my life.