Terms of Surrender

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by Leslie Kelly


  “No, I’m not his girlfriend,” Mari insisted, her chin lifted in that familiar snooty-teacher pose that he hadn’t seen in a couple of weeks. “So, feel free to continue whatever you were…doing.”

  Danny had never figured Mari to be the jealous type, but right now, she looked ready to fry Jazz with a glare. He certainly didn’t like putting her in that position—but had to admit, it was kind of cute. It was also nice to know she felt a little territorial about him. That sort of hinted that she thought they were in a relationship. Progress.

  “Mari, I’d like you to meet Jazz.” Noogeying his sibling on the head, he added, “My obnoxious kid sister.”

  Mari’s mouth dropped open on an audible gasp, then a flush slowly crept into her cheeks. “Oh, my God. You’re Jazzie girl?”

  “Yep, that’s me!” Without waiting for a response, Jazz strode over and stuck her hand out.

  Mari took it, saying, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed…”

  “Don’t sweat it, you were every inch a lady. If I’d have walked out and seen some ho-bag wrapped around my man, I’da come out swinging.”

  “Gee, stop to talk to a valet and you get accused of picking up a ho-bag,” a man’s voice said.

  Glancing back, Danny saw Blake Marshall, his sister’s fiancé, approaching, apparently having followed Jazz through the side door.

  Jazz winked as she sauntered over to the man who’d finally tamed the wild-child of the Wilkes clan. “Hey, at least you’ve been properly warned.”

  “Or the ho-bags have.”

  “Seen any?”

  “Nary a one,” he replied. Then the two of them laughed, so visibly in love, they were a testament to possibility. Because nobody had ever seen tough, ballsy Jazz ending up with a man as conservative, upstanding and nice as Blake. Yet they now seemed absolutely perfect for one another.

  “It’s great to see you, Blake,” Danny said, reaching out to shake his future brother-in-law’s hand.

  “I can’t believe I ruined your family reunion by being such a judgmental bitch,” Mari said, shaking her head. “Please, forgive me.”

  Danny went to her side, put an arm across her shoulder and tugged her over for a proper introduction. Still looking embarrassed as hell, she mumbled, “I’m really sorry, Danny. Feel free to meow at me for real this time—I deserve it.”

  “Forget it,” he told her.

  “You were so nice when Adam opened the door.”

  “Adam? Who’s Adam?” asked Jazz. “An ex?”

  “Her brother,” Danny explained.

  “Well, don’t feel too bad. I bet your brother didn’t have his arms and legs wrapped around you when Danny showed up,” Jazz said.

  The ice finally breaking, Mari laughed. The tension in her body eased. Her jaw loosened, and her smile widened, and she warmly greeted Jazz and Blake.

  Danny felt his own moment of tension ease, too. “I still cannot believe you two are here.”

  “Are you kidding?” Blake replied. “As soon as your mom told us your big news, Jazz called and badgered Amanda into flying us out here.”

  Amanda was his kid sister’s best friend, and boss at a small regional carrier located at O’Hare. Blake worked in customer relations at the airport, and Jazz was a top airline mechanic. Between the two of them, they had some pretty great contacts when it came to quick travel.

  Jazz explained, “Your friend Quag told us you’d be here tonight and arranged to get us on the guest list to surprise you.”

  “Believe me, I’m surprised.”

  Maybe even as surprised as Mari had looked when she’d walked out of the bathroom and seen him in the embrace of another woman.

  He kept thinking of that expression as the four of them returned to the dance, laughing and chatting the night away. Because, while she seemed fine, and was obviously embarrassed by her assumption, a shadow seemed to have come across Mari’s mood. Though she and Jazz got along like they’d known each other forever—Mari had found another woman who could match her occasional snarkiness—her laughter wasn’t quite as bright. And every once in a while he caught her looking at him with a tender, yet almost sad expression.

  But he didn’t know why. He couldn’t understand the sadness.

  At least, not until very late that night when he took her home and walked with her into her apartment.

  Because, to his extreme shock, when he reached out to draw her into his arms, Mari turned her tear-stained face to him and said, “I’m so happy for you Danny. I really am. But I think it’s best if we just end this now.”

  11

  MARI HADN’T MEANT TO blurt it out like that. If Adam had asked her this afternoon whether this would be her last evening with Danny, not only would she would denied it, she would have been horrified by the idea.

  Now, though, it appeared to be true.

  They had to end this. She’d been worrying about where the affair was heading, and now she knew: toward heartache and pain.

  Time to cut her losses. Let him go while she still could, before she lost every ounce of herself in him and could never find her way away out again.

  “What did you say?”

  “It’s over, Danny. I’m sorry, I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  She certainly hadn’t meant to say it so abruptly, tonight of all nights, when Danny’s dreams were taking off and he was so happy. But she’d done it anyway, her vocal cords driven by an irrational panic that had gripped her when he’d reached for her.

  The roiling emotions she’d been feeling all evening had made her stomach churn and her heart turn to stone. It wasn’t just what she’d felt when she’d walked out and seen him hugging a strange woman—she’d been sure she would throw up. It went back even earlier, when she’d spent the evening watching the way Danny’s entire world had changed.

  For the better, she knew that. His life was about to become a kind of fairy-tale adventure. She was genuinely thrilled for him about it.

  But it wasn’t her adventure. She knew it, even if, deep down, he hadn’t realized that yet. Tonight, every time she turned around and saw some woman making a play for him—and there had been a lot—or heard another person call him an astrostud, or a groupie-luring space-star, she’d become a little more certain that she couldn’t stick around to watch it happen.

  “You can’t be serious,” he finally said after a long, stunned silence.

  “I’m sorry, but I am.”

  She turned away from him, walking into her small kitchen, needing a glass of cold water to keep her head clear and her emotions firmly in check. Mostly to keep him from pulling her into his arms as he’d been about to do.

  That would have been disastrous. Because she had known he would kiss her. And his wonderful kisses would lead to her bedroom. And in the morning, maybe she would have allowed their incredible lovemaking to dull her senses, make her forget some of what she’d felt tonight.

  “Explain this to me,” he ordered, following her into the kitchen.

  She sipped her water. “We knew it was going to end soon. And now, well, you’re leaving for Houston in a month…”

  “You think that when I leave for Houston, that’ll be it?”

  “I honestly have been wondering if we’d even see each other after this week,” she admitted.

  He reached for her, but she ducked away.

  “Mari, I’m crazy about you. And you’re crazy about me.”

  “That’s besides the point.”

  He ran a frustrated hand through his golden-brown hair, looking weary and confused. He’d gone from a very high high earlier tonight, to feeling kicked in the teeth by her, and she felt like pure shit about it. Mari’s heart ached. She wanted to reach out and touch him, tell him she didn’t mean it—tell him she was falling in love with him.

  But she didn’t. Doing so would make their inevitable breakup even more painful.

  Knowing she owed him more of an explanation, she took a deep breath, released it and said, “Danny, I told you how I
feel about your lifestyle. I don’t want to move all over the world, don’t want to interact with all the same fish in the same small military pond. I don’t want to worry every day about losing somebody I care about.”

  He frowned. “But I won’t be flying into combat anymore.”

  “No, you’ll be flying off the damn planet!” she said, thinking of the recent tragedies in the American space program.

  “Not for a long time, and probably not more than a handful of times in my entire life.”

  Her instinctive worry for him wasn’t the biggest issue. “There’s still the whole military world. I grew up in it, and I am never going back.”

  “My assignment to NASA means I won’t be living the navy life.”

  “I know, but in some ways, the space one will be worse.”

  His jaw dropped. “What?”

  “Look, this country loves its heroes. And astronauts are at the top of the list. You’ll be wined and dined, you’ll have to schmooze and attend all the right events with the right people.”

  “Are you kidding? For the first couple of years I’ll be attending mind-numbing classes and wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into!”

  She patiently continued making her point. “But eventually, you’re going to become that guy. That sexy, charming hero who, when he’s not off saving the world from a rogue asteroid is traveling across the globe, meeting dignitaries, attending balls, speaking at conferences, patting the heads of schoolchildren.” She swallowed hard, then added, “The guy every woman makes a play for.”

  “Oh,” he said, his eyes widening. He slowly shook his head. “This is about me hugging my sister?”

  “No!” she insisted. “It’s about how I felt about being such a jealous bitch when you hugged your sister.”

  “For God’s sake, Mari, I’m not some horny kid. I am thirty-three years old, I finished sowing my oats years ago…before I nearly bought it in an Afghan desert and realized there’s a whole lot more to life than nailing the women who want to notch their bedpost with a fighter pilot.”

  She winced, surprised by his bluntness, though not by his words. He’d told her about what had happened to him early in the war, when he’d been shot down outside of Kandahar. Those hours he’d spent alone, waiting to die, hoping to live, not knowing what his life would be like when he got back, just knowing he wanted to get there. His words had touched her heart, and she’d spent a long time that night, gently kissing the scar on his leg, thankful he’d been spared.

  “I know you’re not some kind of ladies’ man, Danny. It’s not that I think you’d cheat…”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “I know that, I trust you….” God, how to explain this. “But I also know myself. I know you’re going to be that bright, golden guy. I am just terrified that I’m then going to turn into that woman. I’m smart and I’m educated and I’ve got a hell of a career ahead of me. I don’t want to be the insecure girlfriend, the one who gets jealous and starts wondering where you are and who you’re with. Not ever.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned across the doorjamb. “Why don’t you admit the truth? You’re scared you’re too much like your mother.”

  She said nothing, unable to deny it. She’d talked to him about her childhood. She’d spent a lifetime resenting her abandonment by her mother, knowing it had been driven by the older woman’s unhappiness over the way she was living. So how could she voluntarily sign up for that same kind of life?

  No, Danny wasn’t a cheat like her father—she truly believed that. But who was to say she wouldn’t be jealous and insecure, anyway, driving him to it…like her dad used to accuse her mother of doing?

  “You’re headed for a rock star’s life,” she whispered.

  “Oh, sure, astronauts are always stalked by groupies.”

  “No,” she snapped. “They’re stalked by desperate women who put on diapers and drive across the country in one night, threatening to kill their romantic competition.”

  He gaped, but didn’t ask what she was talking about. Everyone in the country had heard that sordid story a few years ago about an astronaut affair gone wrong, and a woman who’d taken desperate measures to hold on to her man.

  “Jesus, you really have this all figured out, huh?” For the first time, Danny wasn’t eyeing her with gentleness or regret. Instead, as his shoulders straightened and his jaw grew stiff and hard, he cast her a look that was beyond disappointed.

  “Thanks for thinking so highly of me.”

  “Danny…”

  “Save it. You know, Mari, I feel sorry for you. You’ve spent most of your life in hiding. You’re desperately trying to make sure nobody ever gets the chance to hurt you the way you were hurt as a kid. You buried yourself in school, you hide behind a website, share your feelings with the entire world online and in print, but only because you’re too scared to ever admit them in person.”

  She flinched. He turned to leave.

  “Danny, it’s not that I don’t care about…”

  “Don’t say it,” he snapped, his stride not slowing. “Don’t say another word. I don’t want to hear any more.”

  Mari watched, her heart in her throat. She was getting what she’d wanted, right? So why was a scream welling up in her throat? Why did her hands tremble as she lifted them, as if her very fingers could claw the words she’d just said out of the air and make this entire devastating ten-minute conversation disappear?

  He reached the door and opened it. But before stepping out, he turned to her and gave her a pitying look. “I always thought you were just self-protective and pessimistic because of some past hurts. But the truth is, Mari, you’re a damned coward.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, even though she didn’t know what she should say.

  I’m sorry. Stop. I didn’t mean it.

  I love you.

  All of the above?

  But before she could say anything, Danny was striding down the hall, toward the stairs. Never looking back, he turned the corner and disappeared until just the echo of his footsteps remained. And then that echo, like the man she loved, was gone.

  She remained very still, absorbing it all. Tears filled her eyes as she wondered what in the name of heaven she’d just done.

  “He’s wrong about one thing,” a voice said.

  Shocked, she swung around to see Mrs. Faraday, eyeing her from behind her slightly open door. “What?”

  “You’re not just a coward, hon,” the woman said with a disgusted grunt. “You’re a freaking idiot.”

  Sunday, 6/2/11, 03:38 a.m.

  www.mad-mari.com/2011/06/02/ohgod

  Tonight I made the biggest mistake of my life.

  I am, indeed, a coward.

  Only I don’t know how to make it right.

  IT TOOK DANNY A GOOD thirty-six hours to calm down after his last conversation with Mari—the woman he loved, and truly believed he could love for the rest of his life.

  The woman who’d dumped him for fear of what he could, might, maybe would do in some possible future scenario. He had tried to wrap his mind around that long after he’d left her Saturday night, and it still made absolutely zero sense to him.

  Having houseguests—Jazz and Blake—he’d had to hide his anger throughout the next day, not wanting to relive the conversation with his sister. She had, of course, realized something was wrong. But, for a change—probably under Blake’s influence—Jazz hadn’t harassed him into revealing what it was. She’d merely put a soft hand on his shoulder, whispering, “It’ll be okay,” before leaving for the airport that evening.

  Once alone again, he’d spent the night in his apartment, listening to voice mail after voice mail from old friends and new ones, colleagues and family members, all of whom wanted to congratulate him. He couldn’t deny it, though he was still incredibly happy about his professional future, the screwup with his personal one had definitely put a damper on things. He’d barely gotten two hours of sleep, torn between thinking about going out and g
etting drunk, or driving up to Baltimore and making Mari admit she was in love with him.

  “She is,” he told himself Monday morning.

  He knew she loved him. She didn’t have to say the words.

  The problem wasn’t lack of love. It was lack of trust, lack of confidence, lack of courage.

  And those things Lieutenant Commander Danny Wilkes simply could not do without.

  So he stayed home. Right through the starting time of their class, when he knew Mari would be heading to give one of her last two lectures to the students.

  “She’ll do just fine without you,” he told himself.

  Just fine.

  Knowing he needed to stay busy, if only so he wouldn’t give in to the impulse to go over there and accidentally-on-purpose bump into her, he opened his laptop and began doing a little research on life in Houston. But when he went to type in the letters for his favorite search engine, he found himself typing in something else.

  Mad-Mari.com

  He’d promised not to visit the site, and he hadn’t. He’d read one of her books—enjoying the hell out of it, even though some of her rants might have been a little scary to a lesser man. But he’d not searched for her online world.

  “Hell, we’re not together anymore,” he muttered. So the promise didn’t count.

  The screen was slow to load, but finally came up. He saw the cute cartoon graphic of a character who looked like Mari—beautiful ash-blond hair, huge eyes, big smile. Then he saw her most recent post.

  It had gone up before dawn Sunday morning, hinting Mari had had as sleepless a night as his own.

  Zeroing in on the message, which was stark and painfully brief in the middle of the large, empty screen, he read the words, thought about them, then read them again.

  The biggest mistake of my life.

  His heart began to beat a little faster. His fingers tingled on the keyboard, and his breath got caught in his throat.

  I was a coward, and I don’t know how to make it right.

  If she meant it—if she truly regretted it, knew she’d been driven merely by fear, and wanted to fix things—she should have come to him. Shown up at his door.

 

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