by Jean Stokes
"I don't think I'll last all that long," he confesses sheepishly, even as he follows me up the stairs.
I grin at him over my shoulder, and wink. "Don't worry, soldier," I tease. "I have no problem making you cry and curse my name this way, too." He groans, and practically falls over himself trying to chase me up the stairs. I laugh, and lead him onward.
Chapter 17 - DWANE
Sadie is wild, easily taking control when we get into her bedroom. She doesn't even flinch at the sight of my scar, which makes me love her even more.
Until she keeps her promise and wears me out so thoroughly that we both collapse together several rounds later, panting and embracing tightly, stuck together with sweat. She kisses my chest and settles down with a happy sigh that feels like a warm balm on my soul.
I'm awoken by my phone ringing, and I stir, reluctantly pulling away from Sadie and climbing out of bed to find my phone in my uniform pants. She groans, and stretches, sitting up as I answer the phone.
"Mom? What is it?" I ask, having seen her name on the caller I.D. My mom lives in Witmer, too, and I've been to visit her a few times since I came back, but I haven't told her about Sadie or anything going on with the physical assessments, or the deployment that never was.
"There's a woman named Rita at the house," my mother tells me. My eyes widen, and I sit on the edge of the bed. I feel Sadie move, her warm hand flattening on my back and rubbing my spine. I turn and smile weakly at her, taking her hand and kissing it. "She says she knows you, wants to be with you. She came all the way from New Orleans."
And she went to my mother's house, since my address wouldn't be public. I swallow harshly. "I'll be there as soon as I can," I promise, and hang up. For a moment, I can only stare down at my phone, dumbstruck.
"What's going on, Dwane?" Sadie asks from behind me. I turn to look at her again. Christ, this is going to be an awkward conversation.
I clear my throat and rub a hand over the back of my neck. "So, you remember that time you joked I had left a string of broken hearts behind when I left New Orleans?"
She pauses, her brow creasing. "Yes."
"Well, it wasn't entirely untrue. There's this woman, Rita . . ." I trail off, sighing and shaking my head. "We were together for a while, and when I got injured, she started acting differently. I realized how different we were as people. She wanted me to quit the Army, retire and collect disability checks and just resign myself to that kind of life. It wasn't what I wanted, and the more she talked about it, the more I realized we wanted such different things."
I swallow. "Apparently, she followed me here. She's at my mom's house right now."
Sadie stares at me for a long, long time. "Are you kidding me?" she demands, hissing the words. She sits up and pulls the sheets over her body, hiding herself from my view. She laughs bitterly, putting a hand to her forehead. "Oh my God. All this time, you were in a relationship?"
"No, I wasn't," I reply. "I ended things with her."
"Clearly you didn't, if she followed you all the way from New Orleans to be with you."
"Sadie—" She holds up a hand, silencing me, and shakes her head, still laughing to herself. It's not like her normal laugh. There's nothing happy or light about it.
Then, she stops, and fixes me with a cold look. "Get out," she demands. I shake my head, reaching for her, and she recoils from me like I meant to hurt her. "No. Don't touch me. I can't believe this. Get out of my house right now."
I swallow, staring helplessly at her. She doesn't look at me, jaw clenching at the corners and arms folded on her chest, resting on her knees. I swallow, and remember my vow that I would never force her to do anything.
That includes sitting and listening to my excuses.
I get up and put my clothes back on, and leave her bedroom. My fists clench as I walk to my car, gritting my teeth. I need to go to Rita and end this ridiculous notion of hers once and for all.
We don't belong together. My heart belongs to someone else. Maybe she'll finally listen to me this time.
*
It's a short drive to my mother's house. My eyes narrow at the sight of Rita's old station wagon sitting in the driveway. I get out of the car and go to the front door, knocking before letting myself in.
I spot her immediately, sitting in my mother's living room with her, both of them nursing glasses of water while they wait for me to arrive. Rita leaps up immediately, her smile wide. She's as pretty as always, her thick brown hair like a lion's mane around her face, her skin tanned and her eyes a warm brown color.
"Dwane!" she cries, opening her arms and running to me. I catch her at the shoulders and hold her back. Her eyes fill with happy tears and she reaches out to cup my face. "It's so good to see you."
"Why are you here, Rita?" I demand. I should have probably taken some time to cool off after Sadie kicked me out, but I need to deal with this sooner rather than later.
"What are you talking about?" she whispers. I can see my mother rise and leave the room, giving us some privacy. "You just . . . You just left! Without a word or anything. I had to find out from Jake that you were being transferred back to Fort Bliss. I –"
I sigh, and shake my head, fighting her touch off. I push her away gently and take a step back. "I told you already, Rita. We're too different. We want different things."
She swallows. "If this is because you need some time to think, I can give you that," she says earnestly, tears in her eyes. "But, come on, Dwane. You're not a soldier anymore. You can't be! And it's never what you were, not really. We can go back to New Orleans. We can start a family."
I stifle a growl. "What aren't you getting?" I demand. "You and I aren't right for each other, Rita. I'm not in love with you anymore." She gasps, putting a hand to her throat. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear back in New Orleans. I'm not going back. I've transferred here permanently, and I've moved on. You should too."
"Moved on?" she echoes, frowning. "What do you mean? Is there someone else?"
"Yes," I tell her plainly. "I'm not the same person I was before my injury. I met someone who gets me—not just who I am now, but who I've always been. I . . ." I pause, realizing the truth of it even as I prepare to say it. "I love her. I want to be with her. You and me, it's over."
She sobs, shoulders shaking.
"I'm sorry you came all this way—"
She lets out a cry, and slaps me hard across the face. I exhale slowly, fighting the urge to strike back. I would never hit any woman, but definitely not her when she's so upset.
"How dare you!" she hisses. "After everything I've done for you. I was willing to give up everything to take care of you, you ungrateful son of a—"
"Careful," I warn.
Rita glares at me. "I hope she's worth it," she snaps. "You've thrown your whole life away to go back to an institution that doesn't care about you."
With that, she shoves her way past me and leaves. I sigh, shaking my head, and rub my stinging cheek.
"That was quite a spectacle."
I wince, glaring in my mom's direction. "I'm not in the mood."
She hums, and lifts her chin. "So who's the girl?" she asks.
I press my lips together, and close my eyes. "Someone I hope I can win back."
Chapter 18 - SADIE
I'm so stupid.
I should have known better. No man like that doesn't have a history. It's my worst fears realized, and everything I had grown to expect and distrust about military men. How many of them had girlfriends in their ports with a wife back home? Too many to count.
I had tried so hard not to let that happen to me, but I know I'm no better. I'm the other woman. The pleasant memories and ache in my muscles makes me sick, remembering what we'd done. That poor other woman, Rita. God, how could I even look at Dwane, or myself?
I get out of bed and practically run into the shower, wanting to scrub the memory of Dwane's touch from my skin. No matter how good he had made me feel, how amazing it had felt to kiss him, and touch h
im, finally giving into the desires I had felt for so long, I can't let it happen again. I won't.
I run the shower for far too long and hot enough to turn my skin pink. It still doesn't feel like enough, but eventually I have to give up when the water turns cold. I shove the handle off with an aggravated snarl. I’m dripping wet and wondering if it's really worth it to smash my mirror, knowing I'll have to deal with the mess later.
I decide against it, and towel myself off, walking back into my bedroom. I strip the sheets and grimace at the scent of sex clinging to them. I dump them on the ground to wash.
I dress in comfortable sweats, since it's not like I have anywhere to be, and carry the sheets downstairs, shoving them into the washing machine. As the cycle begins, I glare into the glass door, arms folded across my chest, seething.
I'm stupid for trusting Dwane. He's just like everyone else, when it comes down to it. Trying to have his cake and eat me on the side. Well, screw him. I don't need him.
I hope Rita makes him happy.
I go back upstairs. Whenever I've been this screwed up, Aaron's always been a steadfast friend. He's good at listening to a bunch of problems, and it's soothing to talk to someone who has no horse in the race. Dwane is his friend, but so am I, and I know he'll listen.
It's still early, but I'm sure he's awake. I call him, and he answers with a groggy mumble.
"Come over," I demand. "And bring the strongest alcohol you have."
He clears his throat, and makes a concerned sound. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you when you get here," I say, my throat going tight. I clench my eyes tightly shut. I am not going to cry over Dwane. "Just come over."
"Alright. I'm on my way."
I toss my phone on my bed, and then sit down heavily on it. I put my head in my hands and tried not to cry.
*
When the knock comes at the door, I plod down and open it. I'm sure I look even worse than I feel, because Aaron merely hands me a full bottle of whiskey and steps inside.
"What happened?" he asks.
"Two bottles?" I ask, arching a brow and nodding to the second bottle in his hand. "What happened with you?"
"Nothing, I'm happy as a clam," he replies. "But I got the impression that this was going to be something both of us needed to be drunk for, given that I'm about one hundred and ten percent sure it has something to do with Dwane."
I wince, and shut the door, following him into the living room. "That obvious?" I ask.
"I've got a good eye for this kinda thing," he says, and points at the spot beside him on the couch. I sigh and sit, twisting the cap off the whiskey and throwing it away. "So, what's up?"
"Well," I say, and then stop. Where to even begin? I take a deep swig of the whiskey, wincing at the burn. Of course, Aaron is the kind of guy to bring a full bottle but not the decent stuff. "You know how it is. Instant attraction, ridiculous unresolved sexual tension. Since Dwane failed his physical and couldn't deploy, we figured we could give us a shot." I take another swig, my eyes on the fireplace. "So we talk, we have great sex, and this morning he gets a call from his mom saying this woman named Rita followed him from New Orleans to try and salvage their relationship."
I turn my head, to find Aaron staring at me, dumbstruck.
"He cheated on her, Aaron, and he used me to do it." I can feel my throat getting tight again, and take another long drink to try and swallow it down. I gasp, gagging at the taste, and wipe the back of my hand over my mouth. "I . . . I really thought he was different. That this could work. I wanted it to work so badly, even though I swore off military guys. No offense."
"None taken," Aaron replies with a small, sad smile. "Honestly, I'm amazed any of us find love."
"Yeah. Well." I sneer into my bottle, taking another drink. It's already down to the label. I should slow down, but it's calming me down and making my head feel heavy and full of cotton, which is better than that terrible ache I've been feeling since Dwane left. "I guess I wanted it so badly I turned a blind eye to the inevitable conclusion. So I got my ass bit because I was blind."
"I've never even heard of Rita," Aaron muses. "You sure she's that special?"
"A woman doesn't follow a guy across state lines because they had a one-night stand," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Unless he got her pregnant. Oh, God." My eyes widen and I put a hand to my face. "What if she's pregnant?"
"I'm sure that's not what's going on," Aaron says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Holloway."
I shake my head, unable to stop the thought from taking root and growing like weeds. The thought of seeing Dwane with this woman—of them raising a family together— made my stomach rolls with nausea.
"I guess it doesn't matter," I mutter. "I respect myself too much to go back to a two-timer. He said he ended things with her, but clearly she didn't feel the same, which means he didn't actually end things." I snort. "Coward. Should have known. No one runs to Witmer because they want to. They're always running from something, leaving something behind."
Aaron sighs, and I turn to look at him. I get dizzy from the action, and breathe in deeply to quell the sensation. "Well?" I demand.
"What do you want me to say?" Aaron asks, lifting his shoulders in a helpless shrug.
"I don't know!" I cry, throwing my free hand up. "Tell me I'm being stupid. Tell me there's nothing to worry about. Tell me I'm jumping to conclusions. Or tell me you think Dwane's a no-good dick and I'm better off without him. I don't care."
He's quiet, for a while, and then his lips purse. "I think you do care," he says softly. I frown at him, tilting the bottle in my hand up to take another drink. He reaches forward and takes the bottle from me, ignoring my sound of protest. "I think you like him a lot. Enough that, once you're done moping and feeling sorry for yourself, you'll listen to what he has to say."
I glare at him.
Aaron smiles at me. "You put up a tough front, Sadie, and I know you're a badass. So does Dwane. The fact of the matter is, he's been different since he was working with you. He's more determined, he's bolder, he's happier. You did that. He may have run from Rita, but he found you, and he's not going back."
"You don't know that," I reply. "They might be kissing and making up right now."
"And if that's the case, then you know you were right," he says evenly. "But what if he isn't? What if he wasn't cheating on you, and it's all some giant misunderstanding?"
I frown at him.
"I'm not asking you to give me an answer," Aaron assures me with a smile. "I'm just saying relationships, communication, it's a two-way street. It's not a question of just beating muscles into submission. Any kind of therapy, any kind of relationship, takes work. It takes commitment. If he shows that he's committed to you, then are you willing to recognize that, and build on it together?"
I blink, and then blink again. I laugh, a little hysterically. "Whatever Talia did to you, I need to learn her tricks." Aaron's smile widens, even as his eyes soften at the mention of her.
"She's pretty amazing," he agrees. Then, he sighs, and stands. "Speaking of, I should probably go before she thinks I jumped on a plane overseas. I'm taking this second bottle." He holds it up. "You can keep that one, as long as you promise not to give yourself liver damage. I don't need to hear it from Dwane or the sergeant for poisoning you."
I roll my eyes and give him a lazy salute.
He grins, and squeezes my shoulder. "I'm sure it'll work out," he says gently. Then, he goes, leaving me alone in my empty house with the washing machine getting rid of all the evidence and the bottle of whiskey half-drunk in front of me.
I bite my lower lip, and sigh, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. When the room stops spinning, it'll be easier to figure out my next steps.
Chapter 19 - SADIE
Despite whatever my intentions might have been—jury's still out on that—I end up avoiding Dwane a lot over the next few weeks. I have no idea how I'm going to react when I see him again, and I'm
constantly on edge and braced for the possibility of seeing him in town with Rita on his arm.
I start going back to Fort Bliss for my normal work. When the sergeant asks, I tell him Dwane and I train in the afternoons, which leaves my mornings free to resume my usual routine. The return of a routine settles me. I work best when nothing unexpected happens.
Fort Bliss is also the one place where I know I won't see Dwane, since he's on leave and has no reason or clearance to visit the base unless the sergeant summons him.
It gives me the distance I need, even though it doesn't get me any closer regarding a decision with what to do with Dwane. I still think about him almost constantly, expecting him to be waiting for me when I get home or at the training field doing his stretches in preparation for one of our sessions.
Memories of the night we shared linger in my head as well. I can't have a moment to myself without remembering how his fingers felt inside me, about his hand in my hair, the way he'd breathed me in and panted against my skin. The heat of him, and how strong he is, and how he'd looked at me like I was the only person in the world.
It hurts, I can admit that. I'm not too proud to ignore that this feels like heartbreak. Which is ridiculous, I tell myself. Dwane and I don't know each other that well. One night in bed together doesn't create some magic mind-meld where we have no secrets from each other.
I just wanted so badly to believe that he was different. He'd been outside of Witmer, in another state and another country. I wanted to think that his injury and his experiences made him different from every other cocky eighteen-year-old that rolled into Fort Bliss thinking they were going to save the world.
In the end, I should have trusted my experience and my instincts. To think that I am just another story of infidelity, that he had tricked me and made me think I was special . . .
It hurts. Really badly.
I feel like I have a constant ache in my chest as the days turn into weeks, one turning to two, slipping into a third with no regard for how my heart is still trying to heal. I don't go out with the guys during that time, fearing that I would run into Dwane, and worse, Rita. At least without seeing her, I can pretend she's a supermodel, or that she's ugly, or too short, or has a gap in her teeth. Whatever I need to make myself feel better.