The Day He Went Away

by Millikin, Jennifer

  I spin to face Trent, my hands up. “Go home before this becomes a scene. You wouldn’t want that, especially with that big promotion coming your way.”

  “I don’t think so, Katie girl.”

  My hand flies to my heart. It’s been so long since I’ve heard that. Why did he have to use my nickname? Because he knew what it would do to me.

  I don’t want to show Trent it worked, but I can’t control the way my lips tremble.

  “Oh, so you aren’t a totally unfeeling bitch. Just a drunken slut.” Trent’s words ooze out of his mouth like a poisonous sludge. I’d be more upset if he hadn’t slurred twice while he was spewing his vitriol.

  “Don’t talk to her like that.” Nick’s voice is low and threatening.

  “She doesn’t need you to defend her, Sergeant Hunter.” Trent curls a lip at me. “Let me tell you about Kate. She’s heartless. She led Ethan on for years. She made him think he could have her when he never really could. Feint, run, feint, run. That’s her game. Ethan was a nice guy, and all she did was hurt him.”

  He pauses to wipe his chin.

  “Then she decides she’s had a change of heart. Suddenly, she loves Ethan.” Trent’s gaze returns to me. “If only he were alive to see what a liar you are.” Trent spits his venomous words at me. “Admit it, Kate. You never loved Ethan. It was all just one of your games.” He stares at me, arrogant, confident I’m guilty of every transgression he listed.

  I’m far beyond angry. My arms are on fire, my pulse races. I can’t recall a time I’ve ever felt such fury. Every cell in my body zings, hurtling through me like a pinball machine.

  I lunge at Trent. My palms hit his chest with a dull smack, and I push with all the strength I have.

  Trent stumbles back, until the back of a chair catches him. I follow, quickstepping until there are only six inches between us.

  “I loved Ethan,” I scream in his face.

  I feel wild.

  Untamed.

  Feral.

  My arm rears back. My fist lands on the left side of his face. It hurts my hand, but I hardly notice the pain. He makes an incoherent noise and sags back against the chair, one arm draped across the top. His other hand comes up to his cheek.

  I want to do that again. I raise my hand, but before I can swing, two strong arms grab me around my waist and pull me away.

  Nick drags me the few feet back to our table. He holds me securely to the side of his body as he leans over to grab my purse.

  My adrenaline flows. My ears feel hot.

  Harper's at Trent’s side, her arm around him, her hand cradling his hand on his cheek. She’s looking left, yelling to someone to get ice.

  We have to pass Trent and Harper to leave. Nick pulls me toward them, his arm tightening around my midsection. In a few seconds we’re beside them and my feet are tripping underneath me in Nick’s haste. Trent has his victim’s face on. I glare at him.

  “You’re a pathetic little boy,” my voice is low. “Grow up.”

  My words are barely out before we’ve passed them. Nick pulls me into the event room and through the dining area. Everyone stares, frozen in the midst of whatever they were doing. The music thumps but seems out of place in a room of statues.

  Nick won’t let me go, not even when we get outside. It’s not until my car pulls up and the valet opens the passenger door that Nick unwinds his arm from my waist. And even then he positions himself between me and the doors to the event room. I head to the driver’s side, but Nick shakes his head.

  Fine.

  I climb in the passenger seat and buckle my seatbelt. I slump, the fight slowly ebbing from my body.

  Nick climbs in the driver seat. He puts my car in drive and steers it over the winding stone driveway. I turn back, trying to catch a glimpse of Camelback, but it’s a dark, moonless sky and clouds have moved in. I turn back around as Nick comes to a slow stop at the end of the little road taking us away from the resort. He glances at me, then back out to the cars rushing by.

  “You really lost your temper.” He says it casually, as though he’s commenting on the weather. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. Is he amused?

  “So much for keeping my temper a secret,” I murmur, studying his profile as he waits for a chance to join traffic. His hair is the exact same color as mine. Why is this the first time I’m noticing this?

  I watch his head turn left and right as he leans forward to see past the trees that line the street. That white shirt brings out the olive tone of his skin. I can see why Harper's attracted to him. But I'm not.

  Nick eases my car out of the resort, leaving behind my roommate who I thought was my friend and the other person who certainly never was.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened back there?” Nick throws me a questioning glance. A light rain starts, sending thin haphazard streaks of water down the windshield. I reach over and turn on the wipers.

  Trent’s drunken, belligerent face resurfaces in my mind. “I don’t care what Trent says about me. He can call me a liar and a slut and whatever else he wants. I know that stuff’s not true. But he can’t say anything about Ethan. I won’t tolerate it.”

  “Kate, correct me if I’m wrong, but it didn’t sound like he said anything bad about Ethan.” The smile that pulled at his lips is gone now.

  “It was what he said about me and Ethan, as a pair. I just can’t stand the thought that what I had with Ethan could be dragged through the mud.” My hands curl into tight fists on my lap as Trent’s words roll through my mind. I squeeze my eyes shut and will myself to calm down.

  My heart rate slows, and I open my eyes. “You sounded pretty angry back there, too.”

  “I was when I heard him talking about you like that. But you seemed so calm. You said you knew how to handle him. Then suddenly…” Nick laughs and ruffles my hair. “You’re a tiger.”

  “Hardly.” I flick my right hand a few times. It’s starting to hurt.

  “Was that your first fight?” Nick glances at me as I massage my wrist.

  “Are you trying to determine if you can go out in public with me again?”

  “Not quite. You saw me with Michael. I was afraid I’d scared you away.”

  The headlights of oncoming traffic illuminate Nick’s eyes. A quick glimmer of fear goes through them.

  “Michael deserved that.” I’ve already told him this, but it seems he needs reassurance.

  He leans his arm on the center console and throws me another brief glance. “So did Trent.”

  I bite my lower lip. I wonder if there will be repercussions for giving him what he deserved?

  I think about what it felt like when my fist made contact with Trent’s face and remember Nick’s question. “That was my first fight, by the way.” Do those words really belong to me? The further the clock moves from that moment, the harder it is to comprehend. I hit someone. And I wanted to do it again.

  “How many fights have you been in?” I ask. If not for what I saw in my bedroom on Halloween, I would have a hard time believing he was capable of such things.

  Nick grimaces. “More than my share.”

  “How many?” I press.

  “I was a troubled teenager.”

  The rain stops, and the wipers make a screeching protest on the windshield. I reach over and turn them off. “Did you win any of those fights?”

  Nick shoots me a withering look. “Some. It hurts to get hit in the face.” He pauses, then snickers. “Just ask Trent.”

  I drop my face into cupped hands and drum my fingers against my forehead. The adrenaline has faded, making way for disbelief. “I hit someone. Me. Kate Masters. Master of Everything.” I shake my head at the impossibility of it. Improbable, but apparently not impossible.

  Nick taps the brake for a red light and turns to me, his lips pursed. “Did you just say ’Master of Everything’?”

  “It’s a high school nickname.”

  Nick laughs so hard he lays a hand across his stomach.

 
“What’s so funny?”

  The light turns greens. I jab my finger at it because he’s too busy looking at me and laughing to notice.

  “That’s a terrible nickname.”

  “Rude.”

  “It is. What a ridiculous expectation to have for yourself. And for everyone else to have for you. Who the hell gave you that name?”

  I cross my arms. “My dad.”

  Nick smacks his forehead. “Sorry.”

  “I earned the nickname. I was on the yearbook committee and student council, and I ran track. I took advanced classes and got A’s and was the valedictorian.”

  “The opposite of me.” A dark look comes onto his face.

  “I think it’s safe to say neither of us are the people we used to be.”

  Nick nods slowly. He stays quiet, and it makes me sad. It’s the first time I’ve seen him withdraw.

  He pulls up in front of my building and cuts the engine. He climbs out and walks around to my side, holding out my keys.

  “Give me a call the next time you want to hit something.”

  I blink twice, surprised. “I would never hit you.”

  Nick gives me a wide-eyed look. “I don’t want you to hit me either. I meant to call me so I can take you to find a punching bag.”

  A little bubble of laughter wells up. Happiness. I picture the bubble as a color, maybe rose gold. A warm hue.

  Nick waves. “See you soon.”

  He’s leaving?

  “How are you getting home?” I ask.

  “My car is here.” He points at it. “We drove Harper's car.”

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” I don’t want him to go yet. He has this warmth about him I like to be around, even when he’s saying whatever comes to his mind.

  He pauses, smiling. “Lead the way.”

  “Can you give me a minute to change my shoes?” I lift a leg out to the side and point to the silver strappy heels on my feet.

  “Yes, but you have to keep the dress on. That way I won’t look too fancy for you in your sweats.”

  I gasp and swat at his arm. He ducks out of my reach.

  “Oh no, here comes the fist of fury.”

  “You better watch out.” I flex my non-existent bicep. “I’m strong.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to hit me.”

  I’m laughing again as I make my way up the stairs to my apartment. Another rose gold bubble.

  It isn’t until I’m lacing up my tennis shoes that I hear what I just said about myself.

  I’m strong.

  But I’m not.

  I’m not.

  Am I?

  30

  Kate

  Nick walks with a flashlight. When he first pulled it out of his car I asked if he was also planning on using his head lamp. I earned a dirty look for that joke.

  He keeps the beam of light trained in front of us, and I’m having a hard time resisting the urge to tease him. I learned my lesson after I laughed when I saw him pull it from his glove compartment.

  “Preparedness,” he said in that commanding tone of voice he gets sometimes.

  The flashlight is nice to have, not that I’ll admit it. The arc of light swings across the pavement as Nick uses one hand to undo a top button on his shirt.

  A familiar resinous smell hangs thick in the air. I breathe deeply, letting the unique scent fill my lungs.

  So does Nick.

  “What’s that smell?”

  “Creosote. It smells best after a rain.”

  “That’s not like jumping cactus, right?”

  I snort. “What an East Coaster.”

  Nick playfully narrows his eyes at me. The beam of light trails into the street when he looks at me.

  “Don't take your eyes off the sidewalk. We need that flashlight trained on the path.” I push my lips together, but some laughter escapes anyway.

  “Ha ha.” He stops and points to a set of swings at the park across the street. “Want to make a bet?”

  I eye the swings. “What is it?”

  “I bet I can beat you to the swings.”

  “This dress isn’t really—”

  “Go!” Nick yells, taking off.

  He’s fast, but I’m fast too. The fabric of my dress rubs against my thighs, higher and higher. There’s no way I’m stopping to adjust it. I don’t like to lose.

  He smacks the metal bar of the swings when he reaches it. I’m only a few seconds behind.

  “Unfair.” I yank down the bottom of my dress and gulp the fragranced air. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out of breath. Obviously.

  “You need to be on your toes. Think like a winner.” Nick grins, bouncing from foot to foot. He doesn’t look even slightly winded.

  “Yes, Sergeant.” I give my best salute.

  He grabs the chains of a swing and pushes it toward me. The rubber seat dips when I sit. His hand goes to the small of my back and he gives me a gentle push.

  “Remember when you were a kid and you went as high as you could and then jumped off?” He sounds wistful.

  “No way. I wasn’t a jumper.”

  He pushes me again, higher this time. “No surprise there.”

  “I’m not a risk taker. I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”

  “Yet you live with someone who is the exact opposite of you. That's kind of a risk.”

  Harper… For a short period of time, I forgot about her and Trent’s messages. What am I going to do about that?

  “Do you like her?” I wince at my bluntness. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Thank God he’s behind me, so I don’t have to see his face right now.

  “Do I like Harper?” He sounds incredulous, and not in a good way. “Uh, no.”

  Relief streaks through me.

  With a push on my back he propels me higher.

  “Why did you go to the party with her?”

  “To be there for you. In case you needed me.”

  Not the answer I was expecting.

  “Why would I need you?” I ask, annoyed. I don't need a babysitter.

  He has pushed me so high that my voice sounds far away as I come back to him and move away again.

  “Jump!” he yells when I’m at the peak of the arc.

  “No,” I yell back.

  I come to the bottom, and he pushes me up again.

  “Jump, Kate!”

  I come back down and straighten my legs, digging my feet into the sand. It slows me down enough that I dig my heels in at the lowest point and stop myself completely.

  I look back at Nick. He shakes his head, but his eyes twinkle. “You’re incredibly stubborn.”

  “And you push limits. Why did you think I would need you at this party?”

  “I knew there would be drinking. I wanted to make sure you stayed strong. Like an accountability partner.”

  “I'm not in recovery,” I tell him, exasperated.

  He raises his eyebrows. “Aren't you?”

  “I don’t attend AA meetings.”

  “You're in your own special brand of recovery. So am I. It's called, Life Broke Your Heart.”

  Death broke my heart. Not life.

  “Why didn’t you ask to come to the party with me? Why Harper?”

  He clears his throat. “You would have told me no if you knew why.”

  He’s right.

  His hand falls against the small of my back and he pushes me again.

  “What is Trent’s problem with you?”

  So many flippant answers run through my head. Trent’s a dumb ass. Trent’s jealous Ethan always chose me over him. Trent has the emotional maturity of a toddler. Trent sucks at life. I could go on.

  The swinging slows while the question hangs between us. Eventually I come to a stop. Nick sits on the swing next to me.

  Of course he wants to know the backstory. I would too.

  “Trent thinks I enjoyed leading Ethan on. Ethan made it clear he loved me, but he also made it clear he was willing to
accept only friendship from me.” It’s so easy for me to recall the dashed hope on Ethan’s face. “I should have stopped being his friend when I knew how he felt. All those years he spent waiting for me while I dated other guys.” My shoulders slump. “I can only imagine the kind of pain I put him through. It was so wrong of me. I was very, very selfish. How could I have been so willing to hurt him? My best friend?” I shake my head slowly as the words hang in the air.

  Nick reaches over to brush my hair behind my ear. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

  My tears free fall. “I can’t escape the fact that I hurt Ethan while he was alive. It’s just something I have to live with.”

  “Seems unfair.” His eyebrows pull together.

  “What does?” I take a deep breath to stop the sobs.

  Nick shrugs. “The double standard.”

  “What double standard?” My head flinches back an inch.

  “Ethan dated other people while he waited for you to change your mind. You shouldn’t be punished for doing the same.”

  Nick’s defense of me is sweet, but unnecessary. Ethan didn't date.

  “Ethan’s date to senior prom doesn't fall into the same category as the few relationships I’ve had.”

  Nick shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not referring to that kind of stuff. I’m talking about Emelie.”

  A rush of air sucks into my lungs. My heart races. My stomach feels heavy.

  “Who?” I whisper.

  Nick doesn’t answer fast enough, and I’m up from my swing and standing in front of him. His face moves from confusion to understanding to guilt.

  “Who is Emelie?” Black wisps of the dislike I already feel for this girl curl around her name as it moves over my lips.

  Nick’s hands extend, like he’s pleading Ethan’s case. “She’s a girl Ethan dated while we were in Germany. It was between deployments.” Nick’s face scrunches up. His fingers grip his head and he groans loudly. “Dammit, why did I assume you knew about her?”

  Because Ethan and I didn’t keep secrets. Because we told each other everything. Because nothing existed between us but pure, honest love… Except I can’t say those things. Not anymore.

  Did he love her? How long did he date her? Did he sleep with her? Ethan’s hands on someone else… Bile rises. Anger travels through my veins, white-hot and pulsing.