by L. A. Witt
And now he was gone.
And I was here.
And I didn’t know why.
What the fuck was I doing here? Rubbing salt in an open wound?
I couldn’t talk myself out of it, though. Even as I questioned just what the fuck I was doing here, my feet kept moving, taking me deeper into the thick forest.
When I’d come up here the first time, I’d been irrationally terrified that the Marine who’d roughed me up would be waiting for me around the next bend. Now, every corner, curve and staircase gave me the same empty feeling. Connor wouldn’t be waiting. We wouldn’t run into each other.
He wasn’t here. He was gone.
And never was that point clearer than when I made it up to the falls at the end of the trail. There was no one here. No other tourists. No locals. No Americans. No beautiful, shirtless Connor standing waist-deep in the cool water.
I sat on top of one of the boulders and stared out at the pool. There wasn’t another person out here, no sound except for the birds and the water cascading over the rocks.
Coming back here hurt way more than it should have if this was just something I could let go of and move on. If it really was a mistake to hook up with him in the first place.
That part definitely wasn’t the mistake. As the water fell into the pool and the birds chirped overhead, and there wasn’t a gorgeous dark-haired kid disturbing the mostly calm pool by striding across it toward me while I stared like a dumbstruck idiot, the truth was unavoidable. Everything from that moment to the other night had been right. It had been perfect.
And what did I do?
I fucked it up. And now, sitting here and letting the pain sink its teeth all the way in, I couldn’t even begin to convince myself that this was how it was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to be up here at Hiji Falls without Connor. I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere without him.
Because I loved him.
My own thought made me wince. I was, wasn’t I? I was in love with Connor. It didn’t matter that he was the general’s kid, or that he was young, or that a relationship with him might land me on Diego Garcia or derail my career. I loved him.
When I’d broken up with him, it had been painful but made sense at the time. Now? It didn’t make any sense at all. I wasn’t giving up a fling with a kid for the sake of the career I’d worked my ass off to build.
In the name of rank and strategy, I’d given up the love of my life.
It was that fucking simple.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Connor
A full week had passed since I’d stepped out of Aiden’s car, and I’d never hurt so bad in my life. The numbness was gone. The shock had worn off. Now every song I’d ever heard about breakups made sense. Now I got it. And I wished I didn’t.
At least I’d been able to study. Throwing myself into my classes had given me something to do, something to focus on, but the second I stepped away from a book, I was a wreck again. I didn’t even leave the house for three days straight.
Today, the walls had started closing in around me, so I’d gotten in the car and driven until I found a remote beach in the middle of nowhere. I left my shoes in the car, wandered down to the sand and sat a few feet above the high-tide line.
I pushed my toes into the sand and stared out at the turquoise water. Places like this usually brought me a sense of peace. Any time my dad and I fought, or I was frustrated with school, or I’d had one of those god-awful Skype sessions with my mother, I drove until I found a beach. Then I’d sit there and let the ocean relax me. It didn’t solve the problem, but it helped settle me.
Today? Nothing.
Especially since every beach had Aiden’s name all over it. The beaches on this island were all different—white sand, black rocks, coarse sand, fine sand—but any place where water met land was Aiden. Walking together. Talking together. Watching sunsets. Kissing like it was the only thing either of us wanted to do. And the sex…
I shivered, but it was less a pleasant reaction and more like a nauseated shudder. Maybe someday those memories would turn me on, but right now all they did was make me think of who I didn’t have anymore.
Leaning forward, I pressed my fingers into my temples and closed my eyes. For the billionth time, I tried to make sense of everything. Maybe if I could rationalize things and put them into some kind of order, then I could move on.
Except I had made sense of it. Everything was already in order. I just couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t grasp that Aiden really had dumped me to save his career. It made perfect sense, and any idiot would’ve seen it coming, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
I kneaded the sand with my toes, digging past the hot grains on top to the cool, damp ones below.
I’d told myself all along that I’d never ask Aiden to choose between me and his career. Never. I’d heard those battles between my parents, and I would never put someone in the position my mother had put my father in time and time again. And I’d told him from the start that I’d understand if he needed to walk away for the sake of his career, but that was before I’d felt this much for him. Back when we were just a couple of guys flirting and—eventually—fucking, and there were no feelings involved yet.
And while I would never have asked him to choose, I had to admit, when he did choose, it hurt like hell.
What was he supposed to do, Connor?
He’d been working for years to get to this point. He had an entire career ahead of him. Did he really have a choice?
But it still hurt to let him go. Or rather, it still hurt when he let me go.
And now that the shock had worn off and I’d spent some time thinking about things a little more clearly, the pieces started falling together. It didn’t just hurt that he’d left.
I was pissed. Fucking pissed.
If there was one thing I hated—especially given my living situation—it was being treated like a child. Having someone make a decision for me. I was stuck living with my dad for the time being, but goddammit, I was a fucking adult. I didn’t need someone telling me that I couldn’t possibly know what I wanted out of a relationship, or that I was too inexperienced to know how I felt about someone. Or that our relationship wasn’t worth keeping because it was my first and by default wouldn’t work out anyway.
Fuck that.
Fuck Aiden.
I sniffed a few times and blinked until my vision was clear. Staring out at the ocean, I didn’t even fight the anger swelling in my chest.
And damn if this view didn’t remind me of him. So did the hot sand under my feet. And the sound of the tide rolling in. And the humidity on my neck and the wind brushing the palm trees behind me.
“Fuck,” I said through my teeth and swiped at my eyes.
I couldn’t deal with this. I also couldn’t escape it.
I sat up. I couldn’t escape it unless…
No, I didn’t want to do that.
But like Aiden didn’t have a choice where our relationship was concerned, I didn’t see any choice where my future was concerned. This was what I needed to do.
I stood, brushing the sand off my shorts, and headed back to my car to drive back to Kadena. Passing through all the familiar scenery, I couldn’t help the lump that kept rising in my throat. It wasn’t just over Aiden this time. I’d made a decision, and every palm tree, every Family Mart, every set of Shi Shi dogs made that decision a little harder.
But I’d made up my mind.
~*~
I parked in my usual spot, killed the engine but didn’t get out right away. Holding on to the steering wheel, I took a few breaths to compose myself. Then I went inside.
My dad was in the living room, reading something on his iPad. He looked at me but didn’t say anything.
“Dad.” I swallowed. “Can we talk?”
He looked up from the iPad. “What about?”
I sat in the chair across from his. “College. Me living here.”
Dad set his tablet on the cushion beside him.
“All right.”
I folded my hands and tried not to fidget, which was even harder now that he was staring at me. Finally, I cleared my throat. “I want to leave Okinawa.”
“Leave?” He stared at me. “When?”
“As soon as I can.” I forced back the lump trying to rise in my throat. “If I have to take out some student loans or get a couple of jobs, fine. I might even take a year off and work to save some money but I just… I need to go.”
“Connor.” He sighed. “There’s a reason we have this arrangement. I don’t want you starting out neck-deep in debt.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Keep doing what you’ve been doing. You’ve only got a couple of years left on your degree.”
“And I can’t stay here. I just… Dad, I can’t do this. I need to get out on my own.”
He looked at me for almost a minute before he said, “Is this about Ensign Lange?”
I winced and dropped my gaze. “Partly.”
“Partly?”
“Look, you don’t want me dating military guys, and just about every guy I could possibly date on this island is military.” I shook my head. “I’m tired of not being able to have a relationship.”
“I’m assuming this means you’re not seeing him anymore.” He was probably relieved as fuck, but there wasn’t any smugness in his voice.
I tried to ignore the ache in my throat. “We didn’t have much choice.”
Dad flinched. He picked up his iPad again but didn’t turn it on, just ran his thumb along the edge like he needed something to do with his hands. I knew the feeling. After a while, he said, “I know it’s difficult being on an island like this without being able to date military men.” He looked at me. “But you know I never did this to make you miserable.”
My throat ached, and I gritted my teeth. “I know. I understand why you’re doing it, but…” Shaking my head again, I avoided his eyes. “I want to meet someone. I’m tired of—” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat again. “There’s just no way I can do this for two more years.”
My father was silent for a long time. Then he nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want to do, then I’ll help you make the arrangements.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have any place in mind?”
“Not…not yet. I’ll look around, maybe figure out which college I want to transfer to.”
He chewed his lip. “You do realize that if you apply for student loans as my dependent, you’ll be turned down because of my income.”
I nodded. “I know. I wasn’t planning to apply as a dependent.”
His eyebrows arched, but he didn’t object. “The job market isn’t so good over there. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, to get you on your feet, I suppose we can work out a loan of sorts. Something you can pay back after you graduate.” He wagged a finger at me. “One of the conditions will be that you finish your degree within the next three years, though.”
As much as the gesture annoyed me, the offer of a loan was a huge relief, so I just nodded and whispered, “Thanks.”
After another long silence, he said, “I’m going to miss you, son, but if this is what you need to do…”
“It is.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I can also make some arrangements with your grandmother. See if they’ll let you stay with them while you decide what you’re doing.”
“Really?”
Dad nodded. “We’ll work something out. Like I said, a loan or something until you’re good.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you’re leaving, though.”
“Me too.”
~*~
There was so much I needed to do. Figure out where I wanted to live. Find a source of income. Start packing and fill out paperwork. Sell my car.
But just making the decision had taken all the energy I had left today.
I went outside and sat in one of the chairs on the back porch. From here, I had a gorgeous view of the ocean just beyond the strip of buildings outside Kadena’s fence. A short drive in any direction would take me to one of a million of my favorite places in the world. Castles. Shops that sold cool shit I couldn’t find anywhere else. Restaurants. The beach.
I winced, all the air leaving my lungs in a single rush. I’d never be able to look at a beach again without thinking about Aiden. Hell, who was I kidding? There was no place on this island that didn’t say his name to me.
Still, I didn’t want to leave this place. This had been home since I was a teenager.
But I couldn’t keep living under my father’s thumb, and I couldn’t stomach being on this tiny island where every time I turned around, Aiden might be standing there.
I had no idea where I’d eventually go.
I couldn’t think of any place far enough from here.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aiden
I gripped the wheel with both hands and reminded myself with every single kilometer that this was the right thing to do. It might send my career down in flames, but to hell with it.
Three times this week, I’d made this drive. The first time, I’d almost made it to my destination. The second and third, I’d lost my nerve within a kilometer of Kadena’s gate.
If I didn’t make it this time, then it wasn’t going to happen, so I kept my foot on the accelerator and my hands on the wheel, hovering a few clicks above the base speed limit and hoping no one from Security Forces caught me. Getting pulled over would be a convenient excuse to bail on this, and I wasn’t bailing. I couldn’t. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in the two solid weeks since I’d broken up with Connor, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything but this.
Now or never, and never wasn’t an option.
Stomach twisting into knots and heart pounding in my chest, I drove past the entrance to officer housing. My sweaty palms tried to slide on the wheel, but I was holding it tight enough that I didn’t lose my grip.
General Bradshaw’s house came into view. No turning back now.
I parked in front of the closed garage door. Connor’s car was nowhere in sight. That was disappointing but didn’t make me turn back. He wasn’t the one I’d come here to see.
On my way up the walk, I swallowed a few times to keep the nausea from getting the best of me. I wasn’t turning back, not even if I freaked myself out so badly I got sick. I was doing this. Today. Now.
At the door, I paused. Took a deep breath. Set my shoulders back. And knocked.
A moment later, a pretty Japanese woman opened the door. “Yes?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m here to see General Bradshaw.”
“Of course.” She bowed and gestured for me to come in. I toed off my shoes and left them in one of the neat shelves beside the door, and the woman—Bradshaw’s wife, I assumed—led me into the living room. “Wait here.”
“Thank you.”
She disappeared down the hall.
While I waited, I fought the urge to pace across the cream-colored carpet. I didn’t want Bradshaw seeing my nerves. Hell, I didn’t want to even acknowledge them myself—the second I accepted I was really that nervous would be the second I couldn’t talk myself into staying.
Footsteps came down the hall. They were soft and shoeless, but definitely heavier than the woman who’d greeted me.
Here we go.
I steeled myself and turned around as Bradshaw appeared.
He was dressed in civvies—khaki shorts and a golf shirt—but he was no less intimidating now than in his uniform. Surprise flickered across his expression, quickly replaced by irritation. “Ensign. This is…unexpected.”
“I know. I…didn’t want to do this at the office.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do what?”
“I want to talk to you.” I gulped. “About Connor.”
No surprise registered this time. “We’ve discussed all we need to discuss. The subject is—”
> “We haven’t.”
His eyebrows jumped.
Thank God he wasn’t in uniform, or all my training would have had me cowering under his rank. Even in civvies, I struggled to ignore the huge gap between our pay grades and all the ways this could bite me in the ass.
I set my shoulders back. “Sir, with all due respect, I’m not going to stop seeing your son.”
His posture stiffened. “I beg your pardon, Ensign?”
I refused to flinch. Not visibly, anyway. “I’m not going to stop seeing your son. Sir.”
Slowly, menacingly, he folded his arms across his broad chest. “You are way out of line here.”
“Maybe I am.” Oh, I so am. “But, again, with all due respect, this isn’t about you.”
His eyebrows rose even higher and he stood even straighter. “It isn’t about me? Connor is my son. It’s—”
“He’s an adult.”
“He’s barely twenty, Ensign!”
“And that makes him an adult.”
“Adult or not, he’s still my son.” General Bradshaw came closer, looming over me. “And as long as he lives under my roof—”
“Then he can live with me.”
The general’s eyebrows shot up. “Come again?”
“You heard me.” I swallowed. “If you throw him out, then he can stay with me. Is that what you want?”
His lips thinned into a bleached line. “I’m not throwing my son out of the house.”
“But you’ll still forbid him from seeing me?”
“I’m not forbidding him from seeing you.”
I willed my knees not to shake. “Understood. And go ahead and string me up if you want to, sir. Make your phone calls and have me sent to Bahrain or Diego Garcia.” I threw up my hands. “At this point, I really don’t care what you do to me. I’m in love with your son.”