bourbon as we sit at a table near the rear of the plane that has bench seats on each side. We chat for a bit about the mission, all of us agreeing it couldn’t have gone smoother.
We then trade stories about our missions that have gone way worse, allowing levity to guide the narrative. Ladd regales us with a story about how he got shot in the ass in Belarus, and I laugh so hard I suck bourbon into my lungs.
The flight attendant brings us some food—meats, cheeses, and bread—and we wolf it down. We give some thought to waking Bodie and Jackson to see if they want some, but they snooze, they lose.
Eventually, I decide to try for some shut-eye, and it’s Jaime I’m thinking about before I fall asleep. As the plane approaches Pittsburgh, I get closer to having the rest of my life determined—happiness or misery.
I’m not sure how long I’m under, but it feels like no time before the attendant is shaking me awake, asking if I’d like lunch. She informs me we’re an hour outside of Pittsburgh, and asks if I want a turkey club sandwich.
I eat two, down two bottles of water, and watch Jackson, Bodie, and Ladd play a game of Spades.
I’m nervous, no doubt. I pace the aisle of the jet until it’s time to buckle in for landing. There’s no telling how Jaime is going to receive my truth after so many lies.
There’s a van waiting for us at the airport at the private jet terminal, and it takes us back to Jameson headquarters. Bodie doesn’t even bother trying to talk me into going out. Even though he’s my best friend and heading back to Vegas in the morning, he’s well aware of the conversation I’ll be having with Jaime when I get to her apartment. I told him about my marriage on our way into Cartagena. While he is legitimately happy for me, he’s also riding my ass to tell Jaime the truth as soon as possible.
I head to my apartment to take a shower, washing off almost two and a half days of jungle, sweat, and dirt. I wonder what Jaime would think if I just went straight to her apartment from the airport, dressed in my dark green cammies, encrusted with dirt, and stained with sweat. I’d sit my ALICE pack on the floor, prop my HK MP5 against the wall, and say, “Honey, I’m home.”
There’s no stopping the smile that comes as I can imagine her expression if that were to occur. But it quickly fades as I get in an Uber to take me to her apartment, knowing that, come tomorrow morning, I’m going to be a happily wedded, blissful man, or I’m going to be torn to pieces.
I doubt there is any in between.
CHAPTER 19
Jaime
My hands are sweating, my heart is hammering, and yes, I’m nervous.
But excited.
Nervously excited.
Cage texted me twenty minutes ago to say he was on his way to my place, and he’ll be here at any moment.
There are so many things I want to say and to happen, and I’m not sure what order it should go down.
Most likely, I’ll kiss him.
Then hug him.
I’ll tell him I missed him, and I’ll try to put the insecurities I’ve developed over this past week he’s been gone out of my mind—that feeling I might be missing something really important.
Yeah… we should sit down and have an immediate talk. I need to be able to tell him I’ve been troubled by the fact I really don’t understand his profession. He’s never talked that much about it, doesn’t want me to meet his coworkers, calling them misogynist pigs, and I just can’t understand why he travels so much in that line of work. It isn’t adding up, and I need him to look me in the eye and tell me I’m seeing ghosts where none exist.
There’s a knock at the door, and I practically jump out of my skin. I wipe my damp palms on my yoga pants, then have doubts about my chosen outfit. I had thought about wearing something nice to welcome him home. I’d considered everything from a pretty dress to a slutty negligee.
But then I decided to greet him in what I’d normally be wearing on a Saturday early afternoon if I was hanging around the apartment, so I put on a pair of black yoga pants and a loose V-neck t-shirt. My hair is in a ponytail, and I don’t have