Five Years Gone: A Standalone Contemporary Romance

by Marie Force

  “Is there a lounge or somewhere we can go to wait?” I ask.

  She gives me a day pass to the airline’s club, and we wait there until our flight is called.

  Ava never says a word until we’re buckled into seats at the front of the plane. “Thank you.”

  “Whatever you need.” I raise the arm between our seats and make her comfortable on my chest.

  “I don’t have the words yet.”

  “That’s okay. You just hold on to me, and everything will be okay.” But as I say what she needs to hear, I worry that nothing will ever be okay again.

  JOHN

  After Ava leaves, I unbutton my uniform coat and remove it, tossing it on the chair that kept me upright while I waited for her. I pull at my tie and release the top button of my shirt. It was all for nothing. That’s all I can think now that she’s been here and gone, leaving her scent behind to torment me.

  Everything I did to recover my health so I could get back to her doesn’t matter now. Will anything ever matter again now that I’ve lost her?

  I text Muncie. Get me a bottle of vodka and bring it to the room. I have no idea where he is, but he’d better be somewhere in this hotel or I’ll have him court-martialed.

  The phone chimes with his reply. Coming right up, sir.

  Fifteen minutes later, I hear the door click before it opens to admit him. He’s carrying the requested bottle, and I see his expression change when he realizes Ava is gone. He puts the bottle on the table.

  “Now go away.”

  “Sir…”

  “Muncie, I said to go the fuck away. That’s an order.”

  He goes the fuck away.

  When the door clicks shut behind him, I crack open the bottle and drink directly from it. I haven’t had a drink in six years, except for the rotgut Tito brewed up in the field that’d nearly killed us all. The vodka goes down easy—and goes straight to my head. I feel the buzz almost instantly, but the relief… that takes longer. Half the bottle, in fact.

  I feel like I just stepped out of a plane without a parachute, and the ground is rushing up to meet me. The landing is going to hurt like hell.

  What do I do now that I don’t have thoughts of her to keep me going? Where do I find hope now that she’s given me her answer—and not the one I prayed for all this time? Even after I heard she was engaged, I still held out hope that once she saw me, it would be like the six years we were apart never happened.

  Wishful thinking. They happened, and she moved on without me. What choice did she have when I wasn’t able to give her even the slightest reason to keep her faith tied up in me?

  The second half of the bottle goes down easier than the first.

  I have no memory of ending up facedown on the sofa, but that’s where I am when Muncie shakes me awake the next morning.

  Memories of yesterday come flooding back, reminding me that I’ve lost Ava forever. I don’t want to go on without her. “Leave me alone, Muncie.”

  “I can’t do that, sir.”

  “I’m ordering you to leave me alone.”

  “I understand that, sir, but I’m not going to leave you. People are worried about you.”

  “What people are worried about me?” I have no people.

  “The doctors and nurses at the hospital, for one. Your command, for another.”

  “They don’t care about me. They just want me to do that interview.”

  “Sir, the entire country cares about you. The Pentagon has received more inquiries about you than anyone else in years. People care very much about you.”

  I don’t care about those people. The only one I care about doesn’t want me anymore, and now I have to find a way to live with that—to live without her.

  I can’t do it.

  Closing my eyes, I yearn for the oblivion the vodka gave me. “Please go, Muncie.”

  “No, sir,” he says gently. “I’m not leaving you.”

  I’m well aware that I’m setting an awful example, and that my conduct is highly unbecoming of an officer of my rank and stature. I don’t give a flying fuck about anything now that Ava is gone forever.

  My head is pounding and my mouth tastes like roadkill, but the ache in my chest might do what a bullet to the leg failed to do.

  It might very well kill me.

  AVA

  We land in New York to snow flurries and howling wind that makes for a bumpy descent into JFK. Eric holds my hand the way he has all night as we flew across the country toward home. I appreciate that he hasn’t asked me any questions. I can’t talk about it. Not yet.

  I’m haunted by my hour with John. I close my eyes, and I see his face, his distinctive blue eyes, the ravages of his illness. I hear his voice, pleading with me to give him the chance to put us back together.

  Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.

  I thought I knew what heartbreak felt like, but turning my back on him while he begged me to stay ruined me. I’m hollowed out, gutted. I don’t know how to go on from here, how to function. I can barely breathe through the pain.

  I thought I’d gain closure by seeing him, but that’s not what I got.

  I’ll always regret the pain I caused you, Ava.

  I was unwilling to take even the slightest chance with your safety.

  If there’s any chance… Any chance at all that you might still love me as much as I love you, that you might find it in your heart to forgive me and to give me another chance…

  There’s nothing I want more than the opportunity to make things right with you.

  All the time I was gone, I dreamed of the life we might have when I came home.

  All I need to be happy is you, Ava.

  Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.

  “Ava?”

  Eric’s voice brings me back to the present to realize we’ve arrived at our gate, and it’s time to get off the plane. I fumble with my seat belt until it releases.

  Holding our overnight bags, he waits for me to gather my things and gestures for me to go ahead of him.

  The flight attendant tells us to have a great day.

  I have nothing to say to that.

  “Thank you,” Eric says. “You, too.”

  His hand on my lower back keeps me moving forward in the crowd at JFK to the curb, where we wait in a long line for a cab.

  Icy wind whips at my face, bringing tears to my eyes, but I’m so numb, I barely feel the cold.

  Rush-hour traffic makes a long ride longer.

  We arrive at Eric’s place at seven thirty and trudge up the stairs like two refugees returning home after a trek through the desert without water. I want a shower and a bed. I take the time to text Trevor to let him know I’ll be out again today.

  He knows what’s going on and texts right back. Take all the time you need.

  My phone is full of texts from my sister, my mother, Jules, Amy, Miles and Skylar, all of them checking on me. They want to know how things went with John, but I can’t deal with their questions. Not now.

  Eric follows me into the bedroom and deposits my bag inside the closet. “What do you need?”

  “A shower and then I’m going to sleep for a while. If you need to go to work, that’s fine.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I… I’m sorry I can’t talk about it…”

  “You don’t have to.” He caresses my face and then kisses my cheek. “Do whatever you need to. I’ll be right here.”

  “It meant everything to me that you took this trip with me.”

  “I’m with you, kid,” he says, forcing a smile. “All the way.”

  “Thanks.” I go into the bathroom and turn the water on to heat up while I remove the clothes I wore to see John. I’ll never be able to look at the tunic I used to love again without hearing him pleading with me not to go.

  As I step into the shower, I give into emotions that boil over into anguished sobs.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ERIC

  Camille has been trying
to call me all night, which is the only reason I take her call now, while Ava is in the shower.

  “Hey.”

  “Oh, Eric. Thank God you finally answered. I’ve been losing my mind worrying about you guys. How is she?”

  “Not good, Camille. Not good at all.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. She hasn’t said much of anything since she got back from seeing him.”

  “So you don’t know what happened?”

  “No. All I can tell you is she said she wanted to come home. So we came home.”

  “What now?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so…”

  “I know. I am, too.”

  “Will you let me know if there’s anything I can do?”

  “Yeah. I will.”

  “Okay, then. Give her my love.”

  “I’ll do that, too. Talk to you soon.” After ending the call, I turn off the phone. I can’t do that ten more times with everyone who’ll want to know how Ava’s meeting with John went. Camille can take care of updating everyone. I don’t know what to do with myself or the tension that grips me like a fist. I want to be there for Ava, but she’s so closed off that there’s no way to reach her.

  The shower goes off, and a few minutes later, the bedroom goes dark when she closes the blinds against the early morning sunlight.

  I go in, change into sweats and a T-shirt and stretch out next to her in bed. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I don’t know what else to say, so for a long time, I lie there and stare up at the ceiling as daylight peeks in around the blinds. I’m too keyed up to sleep, so I get up and do some work, things I can do without thinking. Around noon, I turn on my phone and begin to deal with the slew of texts from friends and family, asking about Ava, asking about me.

  I’m not sure what to say, so I just tell them we’re both okay and thanks for checking on us.

  Ava sleeps all day and into the night.

  I order pizza that I eat alone, while wondering if I should wake her to eat something. But I decide not to bother her.

  She never stirs when I get into bed around ten, exhausted in more ways than one. She’s right next to me in bed, but she’s so far away, she may as well still be in California.

  I don’t expect to sleep, but my alarm wakes me at six thirty like it does every weekday. I glance over to find the bed next to me empty and get up to see where she is. I find her in the kitchen, dressed for work in a slim-fitting skirt and tailored blouse. Her hair hangs in shiny waves that fall down her back as she makes her usual bowl of workday oatmeal.

  When she sees me, she looks up and offers a small smile. “Morning. I made coffee.”

  “Thanks.” I pour myself a cup and study her, looking for chinks in the armor, but there aren’t any. She looks like she always does on work mornings. “So you’re going to work?”

  Nodding, she says, “I have to. I’m so far behind. Don’t forget we have the meeting with the cake baker at six. You can still make that, right?”

  It’s surreal, at least to me, to be talking about our wedding after what’s transpired in the last forty-eight hours. But if she wants to play it like nothing is wrong, then I guess that’s what we’ll do. For now, anyway.

  “I’ll be there.”

  AVA

  Staying busy has saved me in the past, so I dive into work with a single-minded focus that keeps my brain from straying into unhealthy areas. Trevor has asked me to put together a proposal for a potential new client, a chain of local jewelry stores that’s hoping to make a run against the national brands.

  I’m compiling ideas on how to differentiate theirs from some of the better-known brands when Miles appears at my desk. The change in him over the last few months can only be called remarkable. He smiles more often and laughs and cracks the occasional joke. On the lapel of his suit coat, he still wears the family group pin to remember Emmie, but his demeanor is considerably lighter than it was when I met him.

  “What’s up?” I ask him.

  “That’s what I want to know. I didn’t think you’d be here today.”

  “Why not? I work here.” I can’t talk about it. I won’t talk about it.

  When he seems to realize that, he clears his throat. “I have news about the lawsuit.”

  “What kind of news?”

  “The kind in which the government offers a settlement.”

  “Seriously? Is it a decent settlement?”

  “It’s got our attention.”

  “I’m really happy to hear that. It’s the right thing for them to do.”

  “You should feel very proud of the work you’ve done that helped us get here, Ava. It made a difference.”

  “It was an honor to be involved. Thank you for the faith you had in me.”

  “My faith was well placed. I’ve spoken to Trevor, and we both agree that we’d like to promote you to senior account executive. If you’re interested, that is.”

  Not that long ago, a promotion of that magnitude would’ve been huge news. Today, it barely permeates the numbness. “Wow, that’s… It’s amazing. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. You’ve worked your ass off and shown us you’ve got the stuff for much bigger things around here. If that’s what you want.”

  “It is. I love working here, and I appreciate the new opportunity.” Last week, I would’ve taken a second to gloat about being promoted over Catty Caitlyn. Now? I don’t care.

  “Great. I’ll get with Trevor and set up a meeting with both of you for later this week to move some things around and get you started. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Miles. For everything.”

  “Same to you. I owe you an enormous debt of gratitude on a number of different fronts—and if this settlement happens, we’re going to celebrate.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “I will.”

  I watch him walk away, noticing that he carries himself differently than he did when I first met him, which pleases me greatly. He deserves a second chance at happiness.

  I try to get back into what I was doing with the proposal, but my mind wanders.

  Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.

  Where is he now, I wonder. Is he okay? Does he have friends or comrades or someone to support him? Or is he alone? I can’t bear to think about him or the things he said or the way he begged me to stay. Staring out the window, I spin the engagement ring around on my finger without realizing what I’m doing.

  Carlos appears, puts a takeout cup on my desk and backs away slowly, as if he’s afraid I might bite or something. I gather that he’s heard about my involvement with the celebrated captain who helped bring down a monster.

  “Thank you.”

  “Welcome. If there’s anything I can do…”

  I smile and shake my head.

  “Okay, then.” He gives a little wave and takes off.

  He’s brought me a skinny latte that goes down easy. I’m blessed to have friends and family who care about me the way they do, but the attention makes me uncomfortable. I can’t bear to think about the conversation with John, let alone relive it a hundred times sharing it with everyone who is interested.

  I want to go back to who I was and what I was doing before Muncie showed up at Eric’s the other night. I want to focus on my wedding and Eric and my job and our life in the city. That’s what makes sense to me.

  At five thirty, I leave the office and grab a cab to take me to the bakery where I’m meeting Eric to choose our wedding cake. Only last week, I was so invested in every detail of the wedding. Now, I’m forcing myself through the motions while hoping the numbness lets up eventually.

  If I keep pushing forward the way I have since I came to New York, I’ll move past this latest setback, or so I tell myself.

  P
lease don’t go. Don’t leave me.

  I slump against the cab door as thoughts of him come rushing back to me. The way he looked in his uniform. The intense blue eyes that gazed at me with such love. The effort he made to stand and greet me. The words he said. The pleas he made.

  I can’t get him out of my mind, no matter how hard I try to stay focused on my new life.

  “Ma’am?”

  The driver’s voice drags me out of my thoughts.

  “We’re here.”

  Out the window, I see the entrance to the bakery. I pay for the ride with a credit card.

  “Do you need a receipt?”

  “No, thank you.” I gather my belongings and get out of the cab. Inside, Eric is waiting for me in the reception area. He seems relieved to see me, and I hate that I’ve given him reason to question whether I’d show up.

  “Hi, babe,” he says, greeting me with a kiss. “How was your day?”

  “Busy. You?”

  “Same.”

  There may as well be a two-ton elephant standing between us. The elephant comes with us into the conference room, where a wide variety of wedding cakes are on display for our perusal. Samples of the actual cakes are on plates.

  “You’re Amy’s brother, right?” the owner, Deborah, says to Eric.

  “One of them.”

  “I know her through the Bensons.”

  While they catch up, I walk around the room, trying to focus on the cakes and not the voice in my head that begs me not to leave. I stand for a long time, staring at a cake decorated with live flowers. It’s the most gorgeous cake I’ve ever seen, but I’m not thinking about my wedding or the cake or Eric.

  No, I’m back in a San Diego hotel room with a man in uniform who can’t stand for long on his new prosthetic. He’s begging me to forgive him for what he’s done to me and asking me not to go. I see his blue eyes, so focused on me the way they always were when we were together.

  “Ava?”

  I realize Eric is speaking to me and has been trying to get my attention. “I’m sorry,” I say, smiling at him. “What did you say?”