Page 21 of A Man in Uniform

Chapter Four

Story

Waking up in bed, myphone vibrates on the nightstand. Reaching over half awake, I answer, “Hello?” My voice is scratchy and dry.

“Hey, good morning, did I wake you?” My mother's on the other end, her voice bursting in my ear.

“No, no, I was just getting up. Why? What's going on?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she says, and I can actually hear her flap her hand in the air on the other end. “I was just wondering what time you were coming today to the summer house?”

Shit, that's right.

It's the Fourth of July, and my family always has a big cookout at the lake, and watches the fireworks. It's something that my mother has pushed herself to still do, even after my father passed away.

“Oh, yeah, I'll be there about five, is that alright?” She's quiet for a moment, so I keep talking. “Or I can come earlier if you need me to. I just thought Ben had offered this year.”

“He did, and no, five is fine. Sorry, I was just thinking about your father and the time he forgot to buy meat for burgers.” She chuckles, but it's not a happy laugh, it's sad and full of loss.

“I remember that. We ended up having just hot dogs, and he made grilled cheeses too.” Giggling, I feel my heart tighten with pain. It's been almost four years, but it still feels like yesterday.

“God, I miss him.” She lets out an audible breath into the receiver as she says, “Alright, alright, enough sob stories, today is for smiles and fire works. Bring a friend if you want too, Uncle Greg and Aunt June are bringing ribs and homemade beans, so we'll have plenty of extra food.”

Hanging up with my mom, I sit in bed for a bit. Scratching my nails through my hair, I stretch my arms up and pull myself out of bed.

I've been trying like hell to forget Wyatt. He pissed me off. He can't claim me as his. He has no rights me, not now, not ever. He lost any privilege to cal me anything the second he decided to let me go and not tell me.

Leaning against my sink, I drink a cup of water, and tap my finger against the glass. No matter how much I want to pretend like this man hasn't infiltrated my brain, I can't deny he's there.

I close my eyes and he's there. I dream and he's there. I can't do anything without him there in some way. A memory, a thought, a feeling, he's a part of me, he's always been a part of me.

Checking the clock, it's already four. Pursing my lips, I grab my phone and send him a text. 'You busy?'

'Never too busy for you.' His text comes through instantly.

'Meet me outside my apartment in twenty minutes.'

'Okay.'

His message comes through, and I question my choice for a second. Bringing him to our family cookout could be disastrous. Wyatt brought me so many tears, so many sleepless nights, too many to count.

My family watched me spiral. They hugged me, they held my hand, they gave me a shoulder to cry on. And they told me I'd move on, I'd get over him, that your first love is the hardest to lose, but you'll meet someone else.

I never met anyone that makes me feel the way Wyatt does.

Since the day he left, I feel like I've been half living. I need answers to be whole. I need closure to this chapter in my life so I can finally move forward.

Maybe that's why all these years I've pushed men away, kept them at arms length. Refused to let anyone in, because this chapter isn't closed. There is no end to our story because it's never been typed.

It's time for him to man up and just tell me. I don't care how hurt I might feel after, or how sad. I can't move on if I don't know the truth.

Coming down the stairs, I see Wyatt standing at the bottom, leaning against his motorcycle.

He smiles up at me and bites his bottom lip. “Wow, you look amazing. What's the occasion?”

He brazenly looks me up and down, his eyes undressing me as I stand on the sidewalk. In a pair of jean shorts and a flowy tank-top with a diamond cut out in the back. My lids are splashed with pink eye shadow, and my cheeks are dusted in light pink blush.

The way he's looking at me makes my flesh hot and my shoulders snap square. “We have plans,” I say, amused that this time I'm the one in charge. This is my choice, my family, my invitation to him.

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