Page 66 of No Sweet Goodbyes

We step back into our places, attention focused on the front of the gym. Even as the door opens behind us, I don’t tear my eyes off our instructors.

“It’s fitting that you were the one to convince your fellow cadets to take the challenge,” Cadre Mays says with a smile. “Since you scored higher than anyone else in your class by a clear margin.”

My heart drops into my stomach, and I want to melt into the floor.

“Admittedly, your times on the track were terrible, Hayes.” I stare straight ahead, and I take the criticism as best I can. “But you beat the previous record on the range.” He counts on his fingers. “Your hand-to-hand skills are top-notch, and you scored in the top three for the policies and procedures.” He lifts the cast arm as well as he can and scratches his nose with the injured hand. “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in your family.”

“Yes, sir.” I don’t know what else to say, but I know I have to say something. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he goes on. “You still have to win. Otherwise, I’m sure the other cadets will take issue with it. Not to mention the fact that I know you hate exercise.”

Everyone snickers at that, because I’ve been dead honest about it. Plus, I’m sure someone’s heard me cursing life and existence in general when we’ve been in the gym.

He’s still trying to scratch an invisible itch, but now it’s the back of his neck. “Let’s get this done. I’m tired already, and the day hasn’t even started.”

Cadre Mays waves me forward, and I hesitate. “Sir. I’m not going to spar with you. You’re injured and I really don’t want to get kicked out on the last day for hurting you.”

He looks down at his hand, up at me, and then laughs. “I never said you were sparring with me. I thought I told you I called in reinforcements.” He nods toward the doors, and like a bad horror movie, I turn to see who he means.

Dominic Ortiz stands there in a pair of gray sweatpants and a dark-green shirt emblazoned with USMC in yellow letters, staring straight at me like no one else exists in the world.

His skin is darker, his beard longer, and he looks older than he had the last time I saw him.

But he’s alive, so there’s that.

I want to walk out. To leave and give up on everything I’ve worked for. But my feet won’t move. Even as I scream internally, my mouth forms no words. My arms and legs won’t work. I’m frozen to the spot, and I can’t even blink.

“Come on in, Dominic.”

Small murmurs from the other cadets don’t distract me from watching his every step, but I hear what they say.

“That’s Dominic Ortiz,” Lilah whispers to another of our classmates. “He’s the one whose record Emma broke on the range. He’s a legend.”

“He’s like three of her. There’s no way Emma’s going to win.”

Dom is in the front of the room now, his eyes still locked on mine, and he completely ignores everyone else. But he’s always had a tendency to make me think that I’m the only one who exists. My heart thuds painfully in my chest, but I still can’t force myself to move. I can’t do anything except watch him and try not to burst into tears.

I knew he was alive because he sent letters.

One day, I promise myself I’ll work up the courage to open them. But I can’t stand him being here, in my world, during the last day of my time at the academy. I worked so hard for this and now he’s right here, threatening to ruin it.

Yeah, I’m acting like a petulant child, but he fucking lied to me.

“Emma.” He closes the distance between us and raises a hand to my cheek. I step out of his reach at the last second, surprising both of us.

I didn’t even think I could move, but apparently my fight-or-flight response kicked in.

His hand falters, and he looks down at it like he didn’t realize that he is trying to touch me.

“You know Dom,” Cadre Mays says with a smile. “He’s your opponent. If you beat him, your class is done.”

I stare at Dom’s hand, refusing to meet his eyes. Refusing to let him see that even after months, he still owns my heart. That he always has.

“Don’t kill him, though,” Cadre Reed speaks up, the first of the other instructors to offer anything. “He’s a volunteer and he had to sign a waiver to do this.”

I turn my attention to him and smile ferociously. “No promises.”

Before Dom or any of the other instructors can say a word, I turn to Lilah, deciding it is time to play dirty.

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