To see me, but where? It dawns on me then I hadn’t clicked the link below the message. I open it up to see the contact for the Today Show.
“What the fuck?”
“What?”
“She wants to do the Today Show.”
“That’s fucking awesome, man.”
Is it? I’m not sure—all I care about right now is that she’s admitting our time apart has been just as hellacious on her as it has me, as selfish as that may be. It’s dangerous, and I know it because her confession fills me with so much hope I can barely breathe.
I realize I haven’t responded to Connors when he prods me. “So? You gonna do it?”
“I don’t know.” But I know. Of course, I’ll do it. I would do anything for this woman. She needs me.
And God, do I still need her.
“Yeah, well do yourself a favor and wait till morning to respond, so you don’t sound like a drunk asshole. I’ve done that way too many times.”
Connors has turned out to be a pretty decent guy. For about thirty seconds I contemplate taking his advice before attempting to type out a reply. But everything sounds stupid, and the letters won’t stop floating around. I can’t fuck this up, so I delete it and read over her words until I drift off to sleep.
I can’t seem to forget the way my heart beat in time with yours.
She still thinks of our time in Landstuhl. I wonder if she remembers the heat between us, and if her heart races the way mine is right now with that memory.
The truth is I’m lost without you.
Lost. It’s exactly how I’ve felt since the moment she walked away from me.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing, giving birth? The guys have been waiting for us downstairs for ten minutes now. Come the fuck on, hero.”
“Tell ’em I’m coming,” I yell through the door as I try to finish typing out a response to Scottie on my phone. I no longer feel like going out drinking on the lake with Connors and his buddies, but I know I’ll just spend my entire Saturday in this room, obsessing over another man’s wife, if I don’t. With sober eyes, realization has dawned that this favor she’s asking might lead to more of the same feelings I’ve been fighting for months.
But to see her, to just look at her again, face to face, it feels like a choice between life and death.
This can’t end well.
Before hitting send and darkening my screen, I read over my reply one last time.
Scottie,
It’s so good to hear from you, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised in the best imaginable way, although I do wish the tone of your message was different, better. I truly hoped that life would be kind once you made it home, because you deserve happiness more than anyone I’ve ever known.
I think of you often, daily actually, and I miss you too. More than it would be appropriate to say. So, I won’t. When it comes to you, my heart will always cross the line. Just know that I still mean every word I said to you on that plane. Nothing with regard to how I feel for you has changed.
I’m here in whatever capacity you’re comfortable with. Whatever you need. Please tell me what I can do to make this easier for you because I can’t bear the thought of us both being this miserable. I can stay away if it means your happiness, but I don’t know how to do that, knowing it’s bringing you pain.
Forever yours,
Briggs
I send my response with a clear head, until a different part of her message springs to mind.
One last time.
Chapter Forty
Gavin
Our limo rolls to a stop at the curb of the hotel the Today Show is putting us up in. Katy and Sergeant Briggs have a meeting with one of the producers in a conference room once we check in.
I look to my left, at my beautiful wife, and see she’s trembling with fear, this once-vibrant woman who was so filled with life. I want to reach over and try to comfort her, but I know well by now that it won’t be welcome. It’s a pleasant surprise when she reaches for my hand, lacing her fingers with mine.
God, how my body aches for hers. For anything more than a kiss. At this point, I’d settle for a smile that reaches her eyes. She’s anxious. My wife hasn’t had a drink in over two weeks, at least that’s what she swears to me. And I believe her, not because I want to, but because I watched her pour out her stash when she thought I wasn’t looking.
She confessed to me a few days after Noah’s party that alcohol calms her more effectively than any antidepressant or prescription has been able to. But after seeing the negative impact it was having on our son, she’s sworn off it. Aside from an occasional Xanax, she’s trying to cope drug-free. I’m proud of her. We’ve both been going out of our way to do better, to try and communicate more, but we still seem to be tripping over each other.
It shouldn’t be this hard to love someone so much.
“It’s okay, Katy, to decide this was a mistake,” I offer gently. She pulls her hand away, and I know it was the wrong thing to say. She eyes my uniform before gazing out the window at the bustling city.
“I didn’t have time to change. I barely had time to make it to meet you at the airport. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she says, turning to me with a half-smile. “I just don’t want Noah to see it.”
Letting out a tension-filled breath, I study her profile. “Talk to me.”
“Not now, okay?”
The door swings open on my side, and I offer her my hand to help her out of the car. For the few seconds that it hangs in the air, I say a silent prayer that she’ll just reach back—she doesn’t.
“Just give me a second,” she says, as she runs her hand down her dress.
I blow out a frustrated breath, climbing out of the car alone and close the door.
“She just needs a minute,” I say to the driver, in a tone that even to my own ears sounds defeated.
“You sure, sir? I can wait. I’m supposed to–”
I pull a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and light one up. With the butt dangling between my lips, I nod and mumble, “I got it.” I take a long drag, welcoming the instant calm. He nods and greets the bellman, who starts unloading our bags.
The night is cool, and the breeze feels good on my heated skin.
I’m halfway through my cigarette when Katy finally emerges from the car. “You know I hate it when you smoke,” she snaps, crinkling her face in disgust.
Silently, I pray for patience, reminding myself for the billionth time that this is not my Katy.
“Sorry,” I mutter, forcing myself to smile at the shell of the woman who stands beside me. I’d never been much of a smoker until she went missing. Now she’s back, and it seems to be my only solace. I’ve been keeping my vice to myself, smoking on the back porch when she and Noah aren’t around. After putting Noah to bed last week, she caught me mid-drag, and I had no choice but to come clean. I expected more of a reaction, but that just goes to show how indifferent she’s become toward me. Resentment grows as I realize her griping now is due to nerves, not out of concern. As I release my next puff of smoke, I crush the butt beneath my boot, immediately pulling my pack out to light another.
She stands a foot away, eyes widening as the flame licks the tobacco. Understanding passes between us. I hate this. I hate every moment. I’ll take concern any day over anger and indifference. My wife’s still shaking. It’s hard to tell if it’s from the cool night air or her anxiety. She wears a look of uncertainty…like she’s considering climbing right back into the car she just stepped out of. She’s afraid.
“We can turn around right now and go home,” I offer once more, and she shakes her head.
“I’m okay.”
Ache replaces anger as I look on at her, speaking from the heart, “You look so beautiful.”
Her face softens, and I watch the swell of her breasts rise and fall with the deep breaths she’s taking to prepare herself. She’s in a simple black sundress and heels. She may be mixed-up inside, but sh
e’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I suck in my bottom lip as I rake my lust-filled eyes over my wife’s body, feeling myself begin to thicken in my slacks. She’s always turned me on, but I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen her in a dress with her hair and makeup done. She’s stunning.
God, I miss my wife.
“Stop looking at me like that, Gavin,” she whispers. “It makes me feel bad.”
I wish she’d have just stood there silently for a moment longer and allowed me to appreciate her before she opened her mouth, ruining the moment. “Sorry,” I mumble again.
Her big blue eyes swell with tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to treat you this way.”
I know that she doesn’t mean it, and I try not to take it personally. Her moods have been all over the place since she got home. It’s not her fault, but it isn’t mine either. Yet, somehow, I’ve taken on the role of human punching bag.
She eyes my cigarette. “Finish that. I’ll check us in.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
The bellman follows behind her as I take another drag of patience and lean against the side of the stretched car. Katy begins walking toward the entrance just as a limo pulls in behind ours.
“Scottie!”
My wife stops in her tracks, her storm-filled eyes lighting up in anticipation for the man who’s about to exit the car.
Adrenaline surges through my veins when Briggs steps out, dressed to the nines in his army greens.
When their eyes lock, she gives him a breathtaking smile…one that reaches her eyes. A jealousy I’ve never experienced before takes hold as they drink each other in from feet away, as though they’ve been starving for it.
I feel like an outsider intruding on an intimate meeting between my own wife and another man.
It isn’t so cut and dry. I know that. But there’s no way I’m imagining the way he looks at her or the way she looks at him. It’s the way her eyes glisten at the sight of him. It’s the way she rushes to him, calling out his name with such emotion. It’s the relief I see in both their eyes that breaks my heart into a million shards of glass when she jumps right into his waiting arms.
There isn’t a single time in the last five months that I’ve put my hands on my wife and she hasn’t recoiled with fear or an excuse.
Son of a bitch.
He has my wife in his arms. A content smile—one that should belong to me—covers his face as he holds her close. He presses his lips to her ear and whispers softly, before his eyes lift to meet mine. It’s in this moment I know exactly who is in the space between us.
Chapter Forty-One
Briggs
It’s a moment fit for the movies, one I already know I’ll replay over and over again in my mind for the rest of my life. The image of her coming to a stop the second I call her name. The light reflecting off her golden curls, that now reach her shoulders, as she turns toward me. The relief and heat that cover her features as she drinks me in. The swish of her dress as she takes off toward me in her heels without giving it a second thought. A dream could never have been better than this reality.
She’s fucking beautiful.
My arms are already open when her small frame slams into mine, and the air becomes charged. The smell of her perfume permeates the crisp air around us, filling my nose. Instantly, she’s lax in my arms. My body remembers hers. How could it have forgotten? I’ve replayed the few days of freedom we shared in Germany over and over so many times that I could re-enact every move, every breath, every heartbeat.
“You look beautiful,” I murmur into her neck with a raw voice filled with love. Her warmth radiates through me.
“Briggs,” she croaks, clutching me tight. Closing my eyes, I pull her a little closer. In my heart, I feel a peace that I haven’t felt since the moment we parted. But that peace is cut short the second I lift my eyes, and they land on the man whose life I’m holding.
There’s no mistaking who he is. The look on his face is filled with accusation and fury, mixed with a whole lot of get your fucking hands off my wife!
I’m not sure if this man knew a single thing about me before today. But as I observe him watching me with his wife in my arms, I’m fucking positive that I’m on his radar now.
I should have known he would be here. I had an inkling, but somehow, I let myself hope he wouldn’t. Scottie’s still oblivious, holding on tight. Abruptly, I break away and try to wrestle my heart out of the moment—not for me, but for her. Hackles rising, I feel his presence in the pit of my stomach and curse my luck that I had to fly with my uniform on today. Sick with what’s coming, I do my best to hide it.
Scottie follows the direction of my gaze. Her breath hitches as panic starts to mar her features.
“It’s okay, Katy,” I whisper. Apologetic eyes find mine. Plastering a smile on my face, I nudge her in his direction.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say it low enough for only her to hear, and her eyes mist with fresh guilt while what’s left of her elated tears slide down her cheeks.
Terrified of what my getting lost in the moment has just cost her, I follow her over to where he stands. His posture is relaxed, but his jaw is ticking, and his eyes are still trained on me. He’s ripping me apart in his mind, limb by limb. Anger and jealousy, possession, gnaw at me as I match his stare with the same intensity. But protection overrules all these emotions as I feel Scottie start to unravel with the tension. I know she didn’t want this, didn’t mean for this to happen, but it’s a fucking train wreck, and none of us has any choice but to watch it unfold. Scottie’s words pass through my thoughts.
It only feels this way when it’s real.
I only spent a minute on the other side of love before being tossed back into hell. With one look in Scottie’s direction, I know it was worth it, and I’d do it all over again.
I fucked up with my foolish heart. In my mind, this situation has always been screwed, but to feel the gravity of it in the flesh is another thing entirely.
“Gavin, this is Sergeant Christopher Briggs,” Katy announces timidly.
Scottie, what have you done to me?
Gavin remains wordless, his lips twitching as I approach him and snap my boots together, keeping eye contact.
As soon as Katy realizes what’s about to happen, her eyes volley between us.
I told her I would be here for her in any capacity, that I would do anything for her, and I’m about to prove it.
Swallowing the whole of my fucking pride, I keep my eyes trained on his. Straightening my spine, I raise my lined fingers over my brow, and salute my superior.
Chapter Forty-Two
Katy
Mortified, I watch as Briggs salutes my husband, and Gavin takes a pull of his cigarette and slowly exhales it into his face.
Briggs lowers his hand as his eyes flash with murder.
“Gavin!” I snap, his eyes flitting to mine, and in them, I see the look that I’ve been expecting for months—betrayal.
I didn’t think this through.
This was never supposed to happen.
I open my mouth to speak as they face off, both rattling with a rage I’ve never felt from either of them—Gavin with jealousy, Briggs at his reaction.
You did this, Katy.
“Oh, good, you’re all here.” A woman’s voice sounds behind us as Gavin and Briggs stare each other down, the weight of it crippling me.
Turning in the direction of the voice, I see a tall woman in a power suit, designer heels, perfect makeup, and dark hair tied back in a sleek knot walking toward us. She seems oblivious of the situation and dives right in. “Kathryn?” she questions, damn well knowing the answer as she extends a hand toward me. “I’m Liv with the Today Show.”
I shake her hand, my eyes still locked on the two men in front of me. “Nice to meet you, Liv.”
She squeezes my hand subtly, tugging it toward her, and with that small gesture manages to steal my attention while her eyes
implore mine in a follow my lead, I’ve got this way.
There’s no mistaking that she saw it—our connection—and if she saw enough from her side to be worried, I can only imagine the conclusion my husband has drawn on his.
“Christopher Briggs,” she says in a sharp, bright tone that tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. “I have to say I’ve been excited about meeting you two all week.”
Briggs takes a step back, his eyes lingering on Gavin, who looks at him so darkly I feel the cold sweeping over us and seeping into my bones.
What the fuck have I done?
When I decided to do the show, the sole idea was to spread some truth among the speculation of what happened to us in the media. And the more I thought about it, I knew I couldn’t do it without Briggs. I’d spent a lot of the last month trying to be honest with myself, instead of medicating my harsh reality away. I was ready to take hold of my life and try to start living it again, not just for Noah and Gavin, but for myself. This meant coming clean with Gavin—admitting to the strength of what I feel for Briggs, of my need for him, and my hesitance to let him go.
Seeing that he was okay with my own eyes was a recommendation from my therapist. She didn’t necessarily believe it would bring closure but would help to ease some of my anxiety. I jumped on her reasoning because seeing him was all I wanted, had wanted, since returning home. At the same time, I wanted desperately to be Gavin’s wife and Noah’s mother. To be her. I am two different women, living in two separate worlds, in love with two different soldiers. In the haze that’s now my life, clarity is all I prayed for.
All of this I set in motion to try and stop the spiral, but it seems I’ve just thrown all three of us into a tailspin. I asked Gavin to come with me without a second thought, knowing what seeing Chris would do to me, but never thinking for one second my reaction would be so fucking obvious or that I wouldn’t be able to control it, or that their meeting would turn out like this. When Briggs stepped out of the limo, he was all I could see. All I could feel. And I let myself revel in the few seconds I was in his arms because in them I felt safe. I counted on Gavin to understand. I expected far too much.
Heartbreak Warfare Page 19