This Isn't Goodbye

by K. R. Reese

  “Can I see?” I whisper the words.

  Cole lets me go and rolls onto his stomach on the bed. I sit up and scoot against him, eyeing the praying hands and dog tags attached. It isn’t until I look closer and see Dylan’s name that I realize each tag has someone else’s name on it.

  “Cole, are these…” I choke the words out, panic seizing my chest.

  He rolls in an instant, his arms wrapping me against him. “Chey, it’s okay.” His hand lazily rubs circles against my lower back, erasing the panic I felt moments before. “Breathe, Baby, you have to breathe.”

  I hadn’t noticed I was holding my breath. It used to be a defense mechanism when the pain would become too much. It’s something I need to work on.

  I pull back and stare into his eyes. “I was so selfish. You were hurting so much, and I ignored it. I didn’t think about it.” I take a deep breath, needing to let it all out. “After rehab, after your tour, I expected you to reach out. When you didn’t, and Mace wouldn’t tell me anything, I figured it was better that way. It was better if we just moved on. Forgot about each other.”

  Cheyenne drops her gaze, stiffness settling in her shoulders. I don’t let her look away, though, lifting her face to mine. “Mace couldn’t tell you anything, Chey, you know that. My missions, where I go, that’s all classified. He didn’t know much more than the news revealed.” She tries to pull away, but I stop her. “Look at me, Baby. It isn’t better being away from you. You’ve been in my life forever. I could never forget you. I was going through my own shit; I didn’t want to drag you down with me. Then when it finally stopped, and I could breathe again, you were happy. You seemed okay. I didn’t want to be a ghost from your past that reminded you of everything that you had lost.”

  This is the closest we’ve been since the other night. The tattoo was the only thing I could do. In a way, it helped me heal. I would always have a piece of my brothers with me, the ink just cemented that fact. I hadn’t expected Cheyenne to react like she did, even if it makes sense. Dylan Cross. That was the first name to be added on the tattoo; the first brother I had ever lost. Unfortunately, five more were added from my last tour after Dylan’s death.

  Cheyenne’s sob breaks my heart, and I drag her against me again, lying back on the bed. This morning could have been so much different if it weren’t for my tattoo. Today was her last day with Mason and I didn’t want to ruin any more of it.

  “Come on, Sweetheart, let’s go take a walk for a bit until we hear from Mason.”

  I kiss her temple, inhaling her scent. The coconut shampoo is the same from when we were teenagers, the rest is pure Cheyenne. The thought of her got me through many nights in the middle of the desert. I would never admit that to anyone but myself. Looking down at the woman bundled against me, silent sobs wracking her body, I knew I would never be able to let her go again.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into a parking lot for a small walking park I found nearby. When I suggested a walk, I didn’t think Cheyenne would agree with it, but here we are.

  The morning is quiet and there’s still a light frost settled over most of the grass in the park. But we’ve been walking for a while now, and I don’t know what to say. Before we left the cabin, we had been in an argument because I couldn’t stay away from her. Even now, I was itching to reach over and grab her hand, entwine our fingers. The risk to our friendship, not to mention probably my balls, kept me from doing it. Because Cheyenne was right, I was tugging her in every direction and causing confusion where there never should have been any. But in my mind, she belonged to Dylan and that’s how it would stay between us.

  “Do you walk often?” Cole asks unexpectedly beside me. We haven’t spoken since the hotel room, so I wondered what he’s thinking.

  Kicking at the rocks on the path, I shrug. “Sometimes I walk around at the park or find a track to think – about Dylan, my future…everything really. It might sound stupid, but he was my hero. You were always the protector. When it all went wrong, I was in major denial. How could my perfect world just…collapse?” I smile because as sad as it is, it’s honest, and I’d like to lighten the mood a bit. “I’m still mad at him, even when I know he would have come home if he could. But that’s why being at home was great. I felt connected to the good memories when I’m there.”

  “I don’t think you’re in denial, Chey. If you can’t understand why it had to be him, then how could you move on from it? No one expects perfection. It sounds like you need closure.”

  I shudder. It’s not cold, but that word always makes my stomach roll with discomfort. “What if I don’t want closure? In a way, closure reminds me of all I’ve lost. It feels like I’m choosing to forget my husband, choosing to forget the life we had.”

  My throat constricts. When I realize I’m leaning on Cole, I pull myself upright. The only support I’ve relied on for years is Mason; that isn’t about to change today.

  “Deaths like Dylan’s can shred lives. I’ve seen it. I get it. I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through it.” Cole’s voice carries pure sincerity, making my chest swell with emotion.

  “Over four years later and I’m holding onto something I’ll never get back.”

  There it is the same way it’s always been. The reason I can tell him almost anything. He doesn’t judge. He understands.

  I sigh. “When I look back on it all, I think a part of Dylan knew that last tour was going to be bad. In our phone conversations after he left, there were signs. He wasn’t himself; his head wasn’t where it should have been. I think that’s why I was mad at him for so long. He knew something was wrong and didn’t say anything.”

  “I guess in a way I would be mad at him, too, but to blame someone you love for a decision that got them killed. I don’t know. It isn’t wrong to feel that way, though, a lot of military wives feel the same. You beat yourself up for how you feel,” Cole says. “Don’t do that. You’re allowed to be sad. You’re allowed to be angry. Even years later.”

  I didn’t realize how good it would feel to talk about all that. Maybe now he can respect the boundaries I created – even though I haven’t wanted to with him. It’s a painful conflict between attraction and fear.

  Suddenly something changes in Cole’s expression. “I’d like to think something like that would never happen to me.” He shrugs. “I’ve had good mentors who have taught me a lot. I’ve had psychologists and psychiatrists psychoanalyze me and try to break me down.” He sighs and runs a hand over his head. “But I also know it’s possible. I’ve watched a lot of good men and women die, and I’m still trying to figure out why. For what purpose.”

  Cole’s words cause my breath to hitch. I’m not sure whether to be sad and angry with him. I choose not to say anything instead. The tension is evident again.

  There’s a pause before he clears his throat and looks away from me. “I know this is inappropriate to ask, but I’m curious,” Cole starts. “Did you ever think about us? About what happened? I’m assuming Dylan never knew.” He eyes me warily. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

  I must hesitate too long. Coles shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Chey. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  I’m thankful for the reprieve. He already knows too much. I’ve already told him too much. No words can ever remedy the damage caused by Dylan’s death. It’s silent a few moments as we stare at the path ahead. I stop and Cole follows.

  “We should head back to the hotel. Mason should be calling soon, and I need to eat something before we hang out in a bit.”

  Cole nods his head in return, and we go back to the car.

  The short ride back was awkward, and I knew it had everything to do with my last question. I needed something to break the serious conversation we had been having, plus I was curious. I just had the worst possible timing ever.

  I expect Cheyenne to break down soon after she processes all we talked about. I don’t think she’s truly sat and talked to someone about Dylan, and that thought is
scarier than it should be. But he was my best friend, too, so it makes sense she would feel comfortable talking with me about what happened.

  When I exit the bathroom in fresh clothes from my shower, Cheyenne’s sitting on the edge of her bed with tears in her eyes. I knew it was going to happen, I just didn’t know when.

  I rush to her side and pull her against my chest. This is becoming a common sitting arrangement for us, but I can’t say I mind.

  “It’ll be okay, Chey, it will. I’m sorry I brought it up earlier. It won’t happen again.”

  She shakes her head and wipes at her hands furiously. “I should be able to talk about it. It’s been four years.”

  A loud knock on the door interrupts our moment and I shuffle off the bed to open it. Mason’s standing on the other side, a giant smile on his face.

  “We’re going go-kart riding,” he practically yells.

  When he sees Cheyenne sitting on the bed, face stained from tears and swollen eyes, his gaze shifts to me, anger evident on his face.

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  He shoves against my chest, pushing me against the wall beside the door. I don’t fight him; I let him vent. “I swear, Cole, I just warned you not to hurt her! It’s been less than twenty-four-hours!”

  “I didn’t do anything, man, we were just talking.”

  “Bullshit,” he seethes. “Cheyenne doesn’t cry. Not anymore. I should have never called you when she ran off. I should have let her go alone. You’re just dredging up memories that she would rather forget about.”

  Cheyenne pulls Mason’s arm until he lets loose and turns to face her. “What did he do, Chey? Why are you crying?”

  I see the anger simmering in her eyes. A loud crack ricochets around the room, Cheyenne’s hand landing on her brother’s cheek. Mason must have missed the emotions through her expression because he’s shocked silent.

  “I want you to listen to me right now, Mason. If you wouldn’t have called Cole, I would have gone there and broke apart. Every bit of that cabin is Dylan. He’s all I see. I couldn’t even get past the door before I froze.” She stomps her foot like a child, and I smirk until her gaze lands on me. “And you…you selfish, self-absorbed…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, choosing to storm into the bathroom and slam the door.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Mason’s eyes are still wide, staring after her.

  “I’m pretty sure your sister is pissed off at us. Though I’m not sure what I did.”

  Mason’s lips turn up. “Aw, did she hurt your ego?”

  I slap him on the back and head toward the door she escaped through. For a moment, I’m transported back to the night I found her in the bathroom unconscious. I push the thought away and knock on the door. When she doesn’t answer, I knock a little louder.

  “Come on, Chey, open up or we’ll just knock it down.”

  The lock clicks and she sends a glare at both of us.

  “I am not a child, and when you two baboons decide to accept that, maybe we can go have some fun.”

  I look toward Mason, confusion present on both our faces. Instead of asking what we missed, Mason shrugs and heads to the door.

  “Come on, lovebirds, we’ve got one hell of a day ahead of us.”

  Lovebirds? What the hell?

  I lead Cheyenne into the hall, following closely behind Mason. Neither have spoken since he stormed into the room demanding answers. Answers that I didn’t have.

  Cheyenne was quickly becoming an addiction. I was so fucked.

  There was no way I would be able to walk away from her. I wanted more. I had always wanted more, but I could never pursue it.

  Now, I could. Cheyenne was right about some things. Dylan would have wanted us to be happy, even if it meant we were together. Now, I had to convince Cheyenne to give me another chance.

  I knew my feelings weren’t one-sided. I knew she felt them. The question is whether she would act on them again or not.

  Plan in place, I place my hand at the small of her back and escort her out of the elevators. Cheyenne stiffens slightly before she relaxes into my touch. If Mason notices, he doesn’t say anything.

  “You guys ready to have some fun today?” He eyes us, ignoring where my arm is.

  “Absolutely! Remember when we went to ride go-karts and ended up in the emergency room because we didn’t listen about the bends? There were warnings all over that place.”

  Cheyenne’s question is directed at me, and I smile. I remember that like it was yesterday. It was one of my favorite memories with her.

  “I remember that.” Mason chimes in. “Mom was pissed because you were on crutches for weeks afterward. I thought she was never going to let you out of the house with him again.”

  I laugh with them. It had been funny. After our emergency room trip, of course, but our parents didn’t see it that way.

  Today’s the day.

  Mason is deploying.

  I lay in bed longer than I should, remembering all the pain that came with the news that Dylan was killed in action. A roadside bomb took out the vehicle he was riding in, but the rest of the convoy was unharmed.

  For a while, I envied every man, wife, or family that had a relative with Dylan that day. Plenty of them introduced themselves at the funeral. Cole stood by my side the entire time and thanked them. I was silent. I couldn’t say anything because I had been afraid of what would come out of my mouth.

  Months later, guilt had washed over me. It wasn’t those families’ fault that their loved one made it home. It was a blessing that they had. I would never wish the pain and heartache I had felt on someone else. It wasn’t right, but in the moment, I wasn’t able to stop myself from hating them.

  Cole’s voice snaps me out of my trip down memory lane. “You going to lay in bed all day or are you going to get dressed so we can go see Mason?”

  A smile creeps onto my face. I dreaded today when we first arrived. I haven’t had to tell anyone goodbye in such a long time that I became comfortable with the idea. Never having to say goodbye again.

  Such is the life of the military, though, and the comfort is never permanent. “I’m getting dressed, I guess. Promise me something.”

  Cole eyes me cautiously, afraid to make a promise he won’t be able to keep. I don’t know that for sure, but it’s an assumption by the look on his face.

  I take a deep breath. “Promise me that after today, you won’t just disappear. You won’t vanish into thin air and I’ll never see you again.” Tears threaten to spill, and he must notice because he’s next to me in an instant.

  He lifts my chin, something that’s become a habit these past few days. “Chey, I’m not going anywhere. Never again. I’ll be by your side if I can. As long as it’s possible.”

  I nod, unsure if I heard him right. “I couldn’t bear to lose you again, Cole. I know you’ve only been around a few weeks, but it feels like you never left. I never want you to leave.”

  He pulls me against him, placing a kiss at my temple. “Chey, sometimes I’ll have to leave. You know that. But I’ll always come back to you.”

  A sob breaks and my tears fall. Those words are so like the last things that Dylan said when he deployed. Normally, panic would overtake me, and I wouldn’t be able to breathe. But Cole was here, with his arms around me, and it made all the difference.

  Another kiss to my temple and he’s hauling me off the bed. “Come on, Sweetheart, we’ve got to go if we’re going to make it before he has to leave for the airfield.”

  I grab a quick shower and change, throwing my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. When I walk out of the bathroom, Cole’s waiting with keys in hand.

  “I’m ready to go.”

  “Let’s go see your brother off, Baby.”

  I hug Mason again, wrapping my arms around his waist. I’m crying freely now, unable to stop them. Cole stands back, allowing me the space to tell Mason goodbye.

  It’s not goodbye.

  I needed to remember t
hat if I was going to come out of this unscathed. Memories swarmed me the moment I stepped foot on the tarmac. For the past six years, this is what I’ve been doing. First with Dylan and Cole, then with Mason. It never gets any easier.

  “I have to go, Chey,” Mason whispers into my hair.

  “I know, Mace, I know, just one more minute.”

  I feel him nod and close my eyes. This moment will have to last until he comes home. It’s only six months, nowhere near as long as it could be. But still too long in my opinion.

  “I love you, Mace,” I whisper.

  “Love you, too, sis,” Mason replies.

  I pull back and Cole’s there, hand at the small of my back again.

  “Behave, Mace, take care of yourself. We’ll be right here when you come home.”

  Mason shakes Cole’s hand and turns to walk away. I stand tall, letting the emotion pull in my chest.

  I can do this.

  For Mason.

  For myself.

  For Cole.

  “Let’s get back, Chey,” Cole whispers.

  I let him lead me back toward the car parked outside the gate, and we head back to the hotel.

  I was quiet the whole ride back to the hotel. I can tell that Cole can’t help but worry that I’m going to close him out again, fold into myself. Once we’re inside, he runs me a bath and leaves me to relax while he orders food.

  When I step out of the bathroom, Cole’s staring out the window of the room, lost in thought.

  I lay my hand on his shoulder, enjoying the quiet. His hand lands on top of mine and I look down. His eyes are locked on where our hands are connected.

  “Chey, I want to,” he stops short, clearing his throat. “I want to be with you. I want to see where this could lead. I know you can feel it, too, and I’m not alone in my feelings.” He rubs a hand down his face. “Damn it, this is coming out all wrong and I sound like a pussy.”

  I laugh at that, crouching down in front of him. “I know what you’re trying to say.”