by Claire Cain
“Yeah,” I said, completely unwilling to play into his hand. I didn’t know how I felt about the whole conversation, and this morning, stuffed full of perfect pancakes and the smell of his soap still on my skin, I couldn’t say anything else.
“What about it?” His voice was higher-pitched than normal. I wasn’t trying to be evasive, but it felt insane to talk about this with him before I’d sorted it out for myself.
“She said she loves being an Army wife. She said it’s a sacrifice and that it asks a lot of anyone who is one, but that it’s worth it.” I took a sip of water and then waited for him to respond.
When I raised my eyes back to him, I saw what I could only describe as a pained look on his face. He nodded a few times and said, “It does ask a lot.”
Before I could say anything or he could say anything more, the waitress brought his change, and we both stood with a mutual nod.
He kissed me sweetly, still tasting a little like maple and coffee, before sending me off back to Nashville with a hug and an admonition to watch for flooding on I-24.
I called Ellie the second I pulled out of his apartment complex and put her on speaker so I could drive.
“Ellie,” I said it like a plea when she answered.
“I knew it.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I know. It’s bad.” I could hear the whine in my voice, but my heart was aching.
“Why is it bad? You love Luke. You’ve always loved Luke. This is great news!” Ellie couldn’t hold back her excitement, and I could hear she was thrilled.
“I have always loved him, but I like… love love him. Completely. Totally. Kill me now and bury the body because I am not going to be able to keep this secret from him. He’s going to know. I almost said it today at breakfast.” I could hear the misery in my voice. I hadn’t had time to think, but I needed someone to talk me down.
Also, no wonder I’d never fallen in love before. It was the worst. It felt heavy and so corporeal it hurt. It wasn’t a light, ebullient thing. It hung on me like one of those lead aprons they make women wear before dental X-rays.
“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same? I can almost guarantee he does, Alex.” She sounded so sure, and I felt my whole body reach out and try to snatch the words from her and make them be true.
“I mean… maybe he does,” I eked out. “Oh, pancake freaking pizza, what if he does? What then?”
“You sound like this is the end of the world, but it is fantastic. This is the fairytale everyone wants. This is a love story that ends with happiness and bunnies and rainbows and babies!” She yelled the last word and I felt myself wince. She was a hopeless romantic for me, but never herself. If I tried questioning her about her own love life, she’d shut it right down and accuse me of changing the subject.
Did I want a fairytale? Did I want bunnies and rainbows and babies? Well… yes, and yes, and sure, yes, I’d always planned to be a mom. But with Luke?
It echoed in me—yes.
But if I had that with Luke, what would I be, then? If I gave up everything like Megan said I’d need to, who would I be?
“I know that’s the idea, but he’s in the Army, Ellie.” It was the giant, patriotic, moving, deploying elephant in the room.
“So?”
“So, he’s going to move around and probably have to deploy, and… I don’t know.” I didn’t let myself think about what a life with Luke, married to Luke, might be like. I hadn’t had any time alone to process my conversation with Megan from the day before, but I knew her questions were ones I did need to seriously think about.
“Yes, that’s all true.”
“I was talking to Megan yesterday—she’s one of the wives I met at the ball. She asked me what I wouldn’t give up for Luke.” I could hear her voice in my head, her earnest eyes as she explained the sacrifice, but also the reward, of being a military spouse.
“Well? What wouldn’t you give up?” Ellie’s saying those words made them sound different. Hers was a voice I heard, who’d known me for a decade, and I felt the question settle into my bones, down deep to the marrow. I expected to feel unsettled, like I had when I realized that yes, I did love Luke. I wasn’t broken and unable—or unwilling—to love. I just hadn’t loved Marcus. We didn’t fit.
“I don’t know. Honestly if I had to tell you right now, I’d say… nothing.” I swallowed down the madness I felt bubbling up inside me. I let out a wild sounding laugh.
“You don’t have anything to say? Or, you wouldn’t give up anything for him?” Ellie sounded perplexed and a little deflated.
“No. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give up for him. Ellie, he’s amazing. He’s honest and so kind and thoughtful and irritatingly humble and good Lord am I attracted to him. I mean, the babies part? Yeah, that’ll come naturally. And he knows me. It’s not just that we grew up together—though that obviously gives him a perspective on me someone who hasn’t known me my whole life wouldn’t have—it’s that he takes time to ask me questions, and then he listens. He knows me, and I think I know him.”
“Well there’s your answer.” Ellie’s voice was firm, almost demanding. It was a declaration.
“But that’s insane. We’ve only been dating for like two weeks, and during those two weeks, we haven’t even seen each other except the last few days!” I shook my head and tried to stay focused on the road ahead.
“That’s crap, and you know it. You’ve basically been dating since he first took you out when you were home in Utah months ago. And I know you haven’t seen each other for years and years, but picking up a relationship that has as strong and historic a foundation as yours does—that understandably accelerates things.”
“I get that, and part of me agrees with that. But do you hear me? ‘I’d give up everything for him?’ Who is that? I wouldn’t stay in Boston for Marcus. I wouldn’t give up my job for someone I was engaged to. And now I’m talking about giving up any plans I have for my own career or future for Luke and life as an Army wife?” Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t as ridiculous as I was trying to make it sound. I had been increasingly discontent with my career being my whole life for the last few years. But could I just abandon it, essentially run away from everything I’d worked for since high school?
“You know you and Marcus weren’t right. We’re done talking about him, so stop referencing that like it has any bearing on this situation. Luke is different, you are different with him, and you clearly feel things for him you didn’t ever feel for Marcus.” Ellie’s voice was still firm, but I heard her compassion and love for me too, and my heart warmed. My pulse slowed, and I remembered what an ally I had in her.
“I know. I think I’ve made peace with the Marcus thing. Realizing that everything with Luke is better and more intense and exciting and terrifying has made me realize what a shell of a relationship that was with Marcus.”
“Good. And as for you giving up your career—you kind of already did that, didn’t you?” Her voice was soft now, but I felt a stab of guilt for some reason.
“Because I left New York? It’s not like I don’t have a career. I might have moved laterally in terms of paycheck, but I moved up in responsibility, title—it’s exactly what I wanted.” The words sounded weak in my ears, but they were true. I’d wanted a change. I’d wanted to step away from the madness, the pace, the competition, the financial focus of my old job.
“I don’t think it was just a job change you were looking for, and I think you know that. I know you love the job, but is that enough? If Luke walks out of your life tomorrow, is your job going to be enough?” Her gentleness broke my determination not to cry, but I kept it together so my eyes didn’t blur.
“It’s not an easy answer. I can’t just say I’m willing to give up my career for a man who, yes, I’ve known my whole life, but as a man, I’ve only known a few months. And I think the stupid, crazy, infuriating thing is that I probably found what I’ve been looking for. I’ve always measured people against him, even thoug
h he was never really mine. And now I want him, and even in some strange way to share his life, so much I can hardly breathe.” I took a deep breath because even explaining my feelings to my best friend was utterly terrifying. “But it’s scary, Ellie, and I don’t know how he feels. As much as I know he likes me, he is seriously committed to the Army. He may not think I’m right for him or for the life he knows about much better than I do.”
“The only way you’re going to figure that out is to talk to him.”
Ellie was right, of course. I had to talk to Luke which probably meant I was going to totally and completely humiliate myself by saying I loved him, and he’d pat me on the head and tell me he had always loved me too, as a friend, or as a girlfriend-for-now, but that he had to go do tough Army stuff.
Ok fine, that didn’t sound like Luke, but thinking about laying bare my feelings for him, both old and newly realized, felt completely paralyzing. Especially after the night we spent together that held a deep intimacy even if it wasn’t a physical one in the usual sense.
But the other issue was the inescapable fear I was getting caught up in a fairytale and losing sight of my goals. By that evening, even though I still felt a steady drip of the love potion swirling in my theoretical IV, it was tempered with reality.
I was an independent woman. I always had been. Deciding that because I loved Luke, I was ready to dive head first into a new life just wasn’t me. I needed to calm down, and take some space, and get into the work week and remember who I was.
Late that night, he texted me.
Luke: How has your Sunday been?
Me: Good. Ready for the week.
Luke: Good. Me too. I’m glad you stayed last night.
Hmm. How to respond? How could I tell him I loved sleeping in his bed and feeling that ownership, that proximity, and yet not betray both my love for him and my fear about what was rapidly feeling like a doomed relationship? I couldn’t.
Me: Those pancakes today were amazing. Thanks again for breakfast.
Yep, focus on the food. Keep it light.
Luke: I guess I probably won’t see you until the thing on Friday. Can you get here by 5?
Me: Yep. I’ll meet you at your place?
Luke: Sounds good. Night.
And then he didn’t say anything else, and neither did I. Not that I slept hardly at all, but eventually the night surrendered and the day won out, and I was finally sitting at my desk.
I grounded myself, gripping the metal supports that held up the arm rests of my desk chair. My morning was full of back to back meetings which was the perfect way to launch me into the week. It put my feet back on the ground.
Sitting behind my desk, I thought about how much I was looking forward to some of the upcoming projects. I thought about how busy November and December were going to be. I checked my email again and saw a note from Brenda Schwartz, my old boss.
My eyes skimmed through the message. Words like irreplaceable and incentivize and promotion jumped out, but ultimately, I couldn’t slow my mind enough to read it closely. She was offering my job back, but with a pay raise and a team—essentially giving me the job I’d worked for and had to move to Nashville to get. What she wasn’t offering was a life outside my job. When I was gunning for the promotion, working endless hours, I saw that the team leaders worked just as much, and if wanting to explore my life in Nashville more thoroughly and avoid another cross-country move wasn’t enough to keep me from wanting that job, I knew I didn’t want that work schedule. I made a note on one of my stickie pads to write her back when I wasn’t so distracted so I could be appropriately gracious.
I made a short list on a post it of other emails I needed to write, knowing I would likely lose track of the list, but it helped me download some of the swirling thoughts in my mind. I stared at my desk, my mind taking a short vacation from the moment, and then I saw it.
There on my desktop calendar, a note I hadn’t transcribed into my digital calendar, I saw my handwriting: Janie’s Campo Gala.
Craaaap.
Weeks ago, I’d promised Janie I’d help her out with one of her bigger events of the year. It was a gala for a local outdoors company. This company was awesome, and they did a huge third quarter event to bolster the spirits of their local employees since they all worked such long hours through the end of the year holidays. She’d caught me on a conference call and begged me because she was completely stressed about it, and I of course said yes. I was even looking forward to it.
But I had broken my rule. I didn’t put it on my digital calendar, which essentially meant it wasn’t in my brain. Or at least, it wasn’t in my brain on the right day.
I had the event tagged as an all-day event on Saturday. We’d be at the convention center for most of the day and then the gala started at five for cocktails.
The problem was, it was actually on Friday. And so was Luke’s dinner.
Now this conflict… I mean, it was small. First, I’d confirm with Janie that it really was on Friday—maybe that little note was wrong, though I had the sinking sensation it wasn’t. I just kind of knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.
And if it was Friday? Couldn’t I help her during the day, and then head to Luke’s dinner?
Of course, I could. But the problem was, the most intense hours of the set up would be those hours right before the event thanks to some of Campo’s planning. That meant that if I left at three, the latest I could leave and still get to Luke’s on time, I’d essentially miss the biggest part of the afternoon plus the actual event.
Not ideal.
But… could I even consider missing Luke’s dinner? He was unusually nervous to ask me about it. It seemed like he was feeling pressured to bring a date—maybe he wouldn’t normally if that Major Flint hadn’t ribbed him about it?
So… maybe it wasn’t a big deal?
I started to feel a little wave of guilt splash at the shores of my conscience when I shook my head. No. No! This was exactly what I was worried about. Yes, I’d made a mistake when I told Luke I could go in the first place, but in the end, I had to prioritize my job, didn’t I? Helping Janie on this project was not only a show of good faith as a team member of the company but also an important opportunity for me to meet some of the vendors I hadn’t met or used yet.
I knew in my gut I couldn’t miss it. If I did, it’d be a clear sign I wasn’t a team player. In events, that just wasn’t possible—you had to have a team, and you had to be willing to help. It was the only way things succeeded, and that was all the more true at a smaller company. That was, yet again, one of the perks of being at a smaller company—a closer-knit staff that worked well together. Was I willing to jeopardize that and come off looking self-serving or even like I didn’t value my own career?
Was Luke’s job more important than mine?
Hell no.
And it wasn’t like he was asking me to say it was—he had no idea there was even a conflict. But now that there was, it was building in my chest. I felt the weight, the heaviness. I knew if I told him I couldn’t go, he’d be disappointed. But maybe he’d understand. After all, if I had told him no from the start it wouldn’t even be a question—I just wouldn’t be going.
That night when Luke called to check in, I missed the call.
On purpose.
I texted back some excuse about the day being long, hoping he was doing ok, blah blah blah. Basically meaningless stuff, the kind of nonsense that, if he wasn’t as perceptive as he was, might have flown. But I knew he knew something was wrong. He was just kind enough, or maybe patient enough, not to call me out on it.
By Wednesday, I hadn’t figured out a plan. I was a confusing mix of sad to miss Luke’s dinner and angry at him for ever asking me—I knew it didn’t make sense. Non ho senso, io so.
I woke up that morning feeling like I needed to tell Luke, sooner than later, that I couldn’t go with him. The dinner was two days away, and it seemed cruel to wait any longer. It was already bad enough that I’d waited two
days at this point.
But wait I did. I waited until I got home, into my sweatpants, post-dinner, Lemon on my lap. Then I called him.
“Hey, I’m glad you called,” he said, his voice light.
My heart squeezed in my chest, tightening at the sound of his words.
“Hey, yeah, sorry it’s been such a crazy week.”
“Everything going ok?” The weight of guilt settled heavier on my shoulders when I heard the concern in his voice.
Oh, God, but I loved this man. Why was I about to tell him I couldn’t be at his event?
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m so sorry about this, but I got some dates mixed up, and I realized I’m supposed to be helping Janie with an event on Friday.” I hoped he could hear the regret in my voice.
“Oh,” he said. And then nothing more.
The silence hung there, and my mind rifled through things to say.
“Yeah, I know the timing sucks, but I’m the newest employee there. I can’t have them thinking I’m not prioritizing my job after they just hired me, you know?”
“It’s Janie’s event though, not yours? Could you cut out a little early and still come?”
“I wish I felt like I could…” I did wish that. I did. And I didn’t know what else to say to him.
“No, I don’t want you to feel bad. You’ve got to… you know, do your thing.” He sounded deflated but was trying to be supportive, and I felt sick.
“I’m sorry. I am. And if I can get away, I absolutely will. I want to be there for you,” I said.
“Well don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ok? The dinners are paid for, and I’ve RSVP’d for both of us to be there, so if you can come, there’ll be food. If not, it’s just the way it goes sometimes.”
He was so calm and reasonable, and I felt another injection of guilt that I was even thinking of not being there for him.