Page 67 of Coincidentally Kismet

“That was so unfair!” she huffs out while trying to regain composure.

“I mean, you did steal my shirt. Who’s the one really playing dirty here?” I feign innocence.

“Okay, you know what...it smells like you, and all the talk of you leaving...I just, I wanted something of you to keep, Rambo.”

“You can have whatever you want, babe. But I do have a question,” I say while gently sliding two knuckles down her cheek.

“Good! Now, come snuggle me while you ask me whatever it is.”

“Why do you call me Rambo?” I pull her into my side and continue stroking her face.

“Because it’s hilarious.” She snickers to herself. “But actually, I always told myself that you ran off on me to become the next Rambo. When I saw you again, the name just reminded me to hate you.”

“And now?” Acid creeps up my throat at the thought of her hating me.

“Now...well, it’s just kinda funny and cute, I think. Like you calling me Wright. It drove me nuts at first, but now, it feels good. Like a warm and inviting but funny hug.”

“I guess that makes sense. Hearing you call me Rambo made me crazy at first, but now, it sorta makes me feel like a badass.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t let it go to your head.” She swats at my arm while desperately trying to hold in a laugh.“Are you staying to hang out?”

“I didn’t bring an overnight bag, but I’ll stay right here as long as you’ll have me.” I snuggle in deep with her as she clicks on the TV, firing up Netflix and scanning to find something to watch.

I’m only half paying attention to the British baking show she selected. I can’t help but feel perfectly content wrapped up with her in her bed. The smell of her sweet shampoo and the feel of her soft skin. I’m going to miss her beyond words when we ship out.

It’s not just having someone to do the physical stuff with, or even just having a friend to talk to. It’s being with her that makes me whole. She can look at me and see the innermost depths of my soul without me ever having to say a word. She knows the things I wish no one did, without ever having to discuss them.

I could tell when we talked about my job that she wasn’t scared only for me but for us both, because we’re knitted together. On paper we don’t make a lot of sense. We’re the patchwork squares that seemingly don’t fit but when bound together make the most beautiful quilt.

She’s a gorgeous, independent feminist who wants to work for everything she has. She’s the light in the darkest room, the one who can make anyone anywhere feel like they are the single most important person in the world. I’m a grumpy, war-torn, scared-to-death man. Somehow, someway, we found each other against all odds, and I’m never letting go.

CHAPTER 30

CAM

“WOMAN’S WORLD” - KATY PERRY

Vanilla bean candles mixed with the scent of stale beer, Ping-Pong balls clinking and clanking off of hard and soft surfaces, eyeballs adorning the walls that follow me everywhere I walk. Yep, I’m at Smith’s bachelor pad again. Although, he’s not really a bachelor anymore. I’m unclear how my neurotic and lovable Lo hasn’t made drastic changes to this place yet; everything is eerily the same.Oh, that’s right, they are always at our place.

Will and I spent most of the week alternating between his place and mine after work. Spending this much time together, and so soon into our budding relationship, feels right, and at the same time I can feel myself slipping deeper into this relationship, making my fears multiply. Obviously, there’s history between us, but he makes me happier than I have been in so long. It’s hard to justify putting distance between us when there’s a chance I could be wrong about how this ends.

I’m also afraid he is going to leave and that something will happen to him. Savoring every moment has been my primary focus, and yet it feels like waiting to die. That may sounddramatic, but how is someone supposed to deal with their loved one preparing to head off to God knows where when God knows who is trying to kill them? Or when you know you are just waiting for the other shoe to drop...

Feelings like this must be par for the course for military spouses all over the world. Fortunately for me, Will did say he isn’t usually gone as long as others, so I suppose I’m lucky. The thing is, whether it’s ten days or ten years, the worry is the same. Of course, I’ll miss him either way, but the sheer angst over the possibility of him being hurt is unbearable to think about.

In the meantime, we’re all trying to blow off steam with this party. Beer pong and bad decisions. Nothing screams rational like a bunch of anxious dudes, overly emotional and worried significant others, and alcohol. Very mature. Patricia would be sooo proud.

Opting to stop thinking about our impending doom, I suck down a long pull of light, refreshing and a little skunky beer. Beer is never my first choice, but when I do indulge, it has to be foreign or an IPA.

“Hey, you wanna be my partner next round?” Lo wiggles her eyebrows at me.

“Sure. I don’t know if they will want us to team up after the last time, though.” I gently knock my beer bottle with hers and throw in a wink for good measure.

“Think we can beat them?” she asks, nodding toward Smith and Will.

“Duh. In my sleep. Should give them something to talk about on their little vacay.”

“Nope. That’s off-limits. We are not talking about it or thinking about it before it happens. For all we know, it could be months.” Lo gives me her serious face, but I know deep down she is low-key freaking out too. She doesn’t love change, but whodoes? She also is head over heels, borderline disgustingly in love with Smith. At least we’ll be in misery together when they leave.

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