don’t know if she cried after I left, but as the bus pulled away the next morning she was smiling. Her smile was bright, it was beautiful, and I carried it with me all through boot camp. It meant more to me than she’d ever know because I knew she did it for me.
Over the next five years, it became our thing. She always smiled when we said goodbye and I later found out that she did it so it would be my last memory of her. We made it work. Time and distance didn’t destroy our relationship.
Remaining loyal to Lila was the easy part. There was never a question of whether or not I still loved her. I’ve always loved Lila, and I always would.
But sometimes love just isn’t enough.
Part II
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lila
Five Years Later
Jude was home. It was the first thought in my head when I woke up that morning. It was the Fourth of July weekend, and he’d been back for two weeks. I still couldn’t believe he was here, and that this time he was back for good. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet but I was already thinking about him. I felt the mattress dip under his weight as he shifted on the bed away from me, and when I opened my eyes and rolled onto my side, I was gifted with a view of his back.
Shoulders hunched, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, his head in his hands. Two days ago, I woke up and found him sleeping on the hard floor. When I’d asked him why he was sleeping on the floor, he said he didn’t know. He’d looked confused, like he had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there, and that had scared me.
“Are you okay?” My voice was low and quiet so I wouldn’t startle him.
“Yeah. All good.”
I crawled across the bed on my knees and wrapped my arms around his middle, resting my chin on his shoulder. “Do you still have the ringing in the ears? And the headaches?”
The shoulder under my chin lifted in a shrug. On his third and final deployment, Jude had gotten a TBI, a traumatic brain injury from a bomb blast. I didn’t know the details because he wouldn’t talk about it.
What I did know was that his convoy had been ambushed and hit by a roadside bomb. Six Marines were killed, four wounded. Kate and I read about it in the news. We used to scour the news and hang out in the families of Marines chat rooms, desperate for information that Jude withheld from us. Whenever I used to ask him how things were going over there, he’d always say it was quiet. Nothing to worry about. Lies. There was always something to worry about in a combat zone. But it was his way of trying to protect me, I guess.
Pressing my chest against his back, I kissed the side of his neck while my hands coasted downward, over smooth skin and taut muscles that flexed under my touch. My right hand dipped inside the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrapped around his hard length.
He grabbed my hand and pulled it away. Disappointment slammed into me and I leaned back on my heels. “What’s wrong?” I tried to mask the hurt in my voice.
“Nothing. I’m just not up for it right now.”
“You seem like you’re up for it.”
Without responding, he stood up from the bed and strode to the oak chest of drawers. I stared at his back as he took out a T-shirt and running shorts and got dressed.
“Let’s go for a run,” he said, his back still turned to me.
“Okay,” I said slowly, staying right where I was.
He sat on the end of the bed to put on his running shoes then stood up and turned to face me, his brows raised in question when he saw that I was still in the same spot on the bed where he’d left me. “Are you coming or not?” he asked brusquely.
Did he even want me to come?
It was an odd sensation to look at the man you loved but not recognize him. Maybe it was the hair. I’d never get used to that military cut and couldn’t wait until it grew out. Or maybe it was his eyes. There was something in them that had never been there before. They were haunted like he’d seen too much death and destruction and couldn’t reconcile with it.