Page 44 of With You

“Are we going to talk about it, or should I get dinner ready?” My eyes darted to him in a panic but Baz was busy watching the sun drift lower in the sky. I blew out a breath and stopped rocking, placing my elbows on my knees.

“I don’t know if there’s much to say. It was always going to be a coin flip, I just happened to call heads and the fucker landed on tails.”

“That’s horseshit.” He placed his beer on the ground and gave me his full attention.

“Is that how you handle life? With a coin flip?” His eyes were hard and it was like being stared down by my drill instructor all over again. “I doubt you ended up where you are by flipping a coin. No, I think you worked your ass off like the rest of us to become a Marine, it’s not exactly a title they give out for free. How about the years spent working intelligence? How many men and women made it home because you were there watching, making sure they had an exit, making plans that provided the best outcomes of success? That’s not luck, that’s not nothing.”

I didn’t know what to say. He was right, it’s always been my job to not only provide the information but to do everything I could to help the Marines that carried out the mission come home safe. The ones that we’d lost, I thought about them every day. Thought about their families and what it was like to get that call, the one they all dread. It was humbling that Baz, a man who had put his life on the line over and over to keep his men safe, thought that highly of me.

I opened my mouth to thank him, to say something.

“I’m not finished,” he held up his hand, and my mouth shut with an audible click. “Knowing all of that, you’re just throwing all your plans away, leaving her stuck without an exit, without a way home? That doesn’t sound much like the man I consider a friend.”

My anger flared white-hot. “What are you suggesting I do here, Baz? She. Doesn’t. Want. Me.” Each word was filled with truth and anguish.

“Horseshit,” he repeated. “She wants you. I saw it written all over her, she’s just scared is all. Something I think you have in common. You’re both so afraid the other is going to leave, that you didn’t realize you each had a foot out the door, not wanting to be the one that got hurt. Now, tell me, was it worth it to be the first to leave? Because from where I’m sitting it seems like you’re both losing.”

Denial was bitter on my tongue. He hadn’t been there when she’d left me the first time. Sam, walking out of the hotel room door without a backward glance flashed in my mind. It was a memory I’d thought of every day, reminding me to hold back, just a little. Then more images of my time with her overwhelmed me. Samantha, lying in bed and laughing, no pretenses. My kitten, mouth open and eyes glazed over with pleasure as I slid inside of her, harder and harder as if I could leave a part of myself behind and neither of us would be alone ever again.

The possibility of Sam leaving me again had weighed on my every action. The possibility of all that hurt coming back, only this time it would be so much worse. Maybe Baz was right, I was afraid. Because I never thought I was a quitter but that’s just what I’d done. I’d quit on Sam, on us. She’d never denied being mine, she’d never said it out loud either but every time I’d pushed, every time I’d demanded more from her, she’d given it to me without complaint.

If I was afraid, then what Sam was feeling must have been insurmountable. We were our own worst enemies and instead of giving her the chance to explain, making her explain, I’d closed the door in face.

“Fuck.”

“Glad you’ve come to your senses. How about you help me finish packing these boxes and we can make the trip back together?” My head spun from the sudden change of subject.

“Was this invite just a smokescreen to get me to help you move?”

“Nah, but you’ve got two good hands. No reason why they can’t be put to work.”

I bent down to pick up my forgotten bottle and stood up. “Don’t think that I missed you calling me your friend. I’m already thinking about what color beads I’m going to use on your friendship bracelet. For the record, my favorite color is green, feel free to use that on mine.”

“Jesus, what have I done?” Baz limped around me but not before I noticed the tug at the corner of his mouth.

26

SAM

The room was getting smaller.

Or perhaps it was because I’d been staring at the same walls for too long. After days of homecooked meals and crying on Mom’s shoulder, I’d finally convinced her I was well enough that she could go home. She’d left our cat Donald with a friend and apparently, he was extremely unhappy about it.

Even though it was nice getting to spend time with her, I wanted to be alone—to grieve what I’d lost. Roe was gone, no longer in Little Falls. Something I’d figured out by calling every single person we both knew and asking if they’d seen him. They’d all said some version of the same answer, no one had heard from or seen him. And I’d made sure to hang up before the pity began.

I couldn’t sit still, a path forming in the carpet from my constant pacing reminded of the countless times I’d watched Roe do the same. The doctor hadn’t cleared me for any form of exercise other than walking and my other pastime wasn’t acceptable either. The last thing I wanted to do was read about a fictional character finding their happily ever after. Smug assholes, flaunting their perfect life epilogues in our faces. Maybe it was time to switch genres. True crime could be interesting. Nothing helps you fall asleep like a neighbor giving their account of the strange smell they noticed while walking their chihuahua.

A knock on my door tore me from my depressed musings. My heart that I’d left on Roe’s doorstep came back to life. Was he back? Maybe he wanted to talk, to give me a chance to say all the things I’d been berating myself for not telling him.

The knocking started up again and I glanced down at my outfit. I was wearing one of Roe’s t-shirts and a pair of my ugliest, most stretched out panties. The ones you save for when you’re on your period and you don’t want to risk staining the showoff pairs. Speaking of stains, there was a large one from where I’d dropped salsa on my chest. I whipped off the t-shirt and pulled on my robe, belatedly noticing it also had a salsa stain. That reminded me, I needed to add salsa to the grocery list—and stain remover.

When I reached the door, I gripped the knob in my sweaty palm and took a deep breath, preparing myself to see him again. What I wasn’t prepared for was the four women barreling through my door, arms weighed down with bags and all of them talking at once.

Winnie, Lily, Jo and a woman who looked remarkably like Jo were walking into my home like it was a sorority house and we were about to have a sleepover. There were duffle bags, a box of pizza, two bottles of liquor and a purple and teal plastic box that looked like one of the tackle boxes I’d seen while watching a bass fishing competition and crying myself to sleep last night.

“Um, hi. What’s happening?” They all stopped talking at once and stared at me. I fidgeted with the belt on my robe, feeling incredibly awkward and wishing I’d bothered to run a brush through my hair. I could stare down a gun pointed directly at me without my heartbeat increasing but this group of women had me anxious.

Winnie approached me first, her face suspiciously blank. I narrowed my eyes, my investigative side hinting I wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

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