“Please look at me,” I say on a whisper that reaches him.
He remains stationary as I take a deep breath and stand.
“Don’t,” he says, shaking his head. “Just give me a second.”
I nod, though he can’t see it. I’m sorry will never be enough for what I’ve just done to him.
“You haven’t told him,” Briggs says after a bout of silence.
“No.”
“Anything?”
“No.”
With his next question, he turns back to me. “Why?”
Seeing him is breathing easy, so I inhale deeply as my eyes burn the look of him into memory—newly bronzed skin, longer hair, the same breath-stealing symmetry of features that encase his full lips. He’s still the perfect picture of an American soldier, except that his eyes shine with a different type of depth, the depth of an older soul. It’s the subtle differences that I notice most, that tell me this soldier has experienced far too much war.
“How are you?”
He ignores my question.
“Why haven’t you told him, Katy?”
I don’t want to discuss me. I’m sick of me. I want to know about the life of the man who stands in front of me, down to the last detail.
“At first I wasn’t ready.” It’s the truth.
“And now? What will you tell him?”
“He won’t understand,” I shake my head. “You just saw that.”
He’s so insanely gorgeous standing there, palm against the glass, face blank, his eyes void of the light I saw in them just minutes ago. We’re both bare.
“Why am I here, Katy?”
I pause, digging deep because he deserves the whole truth. “Have you watched the news? What they’re reporting? What they’re saying about us?”
“You know better than to read into that shit.”
My mouth gapes. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about Jones’s wife, and Morrero’s mother, and Alicia.” Bracing myself on the table against the onslaught of emotion, I continue on. “Alicia, Mullins’s mother…she came to see me for answers.”
“What did you tell her?”
“As much as I could to give her a little peace, but how could I possibly relay to her the horrors her daughter experienced in her final moments? The families…they deserve to know.”
“To know what exactly?”
“The truth about this highly coveted institution and the true cost of being a soldier.”
“Did you forget, I’m still a soldier, Katy? And so is your husband.”
“They have a right to know.”
“They do. They know their husbands, wives, and children made sacrifices and exactly what the cost is. They’re living it.”
“But they deserve more.”
“You know we can’t discuss the specifics. That’s all classified, Scottie.”
“No, but we can shed light on the uniform.”
“The uniform I’m wearing? The one I put on with pride every day?”
“How can you say that?”
“How can I not? I’m a soldier by choice and everyone who signs those papers had the same choice.”
“Fine. Why don’t you be the one to put the pen in my son’s hand when the time comes?”
Briggs scrubs a hand over his face. “If it’s his choice, I have to respect that, and so do you.”
“Unbelievable. I just thought—”
“Thought what? That what happened to us would change how I feel about serving our country? If anything, it’s given me so much more to fight for.”
Eyes locked, I sink at his words, knowing any further argument is pointless. He’s firm in his stance and if what happened to us hasn’t changed his mind, nothing I can say will. I have no choice but to make peace with it. “All I’m asking of you is, to be honest when the time comes.”
“Katy…”
“I’ve missed you so much,” I tell him as my heart begins to pound with awareness of his presence. There’s an invisible line between us I can’t dare to cross.
His shoulders sag at my confession.
He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted as Liv knocks twice before entering with a carton of drinks in her hands, the look on her face apologetic.
Taking my seat, I thank her for the offered coffee, leaving it untouched in front of me as Chris takes the chair opposite. Tension runs high the whole meeting as we go over a script of questions in preparation for the show. None of them broaching the subjects I have any interest in confronting. Red markers in hand, the two of us cross some of them out. As POWs, we’re limited to the amount of information we’re able to reveal, which only makes the task that much harder.
“I’m not answering anything on this page,” Briggs says with certainty as he slashes the page with a big red X. I look over to see they are all questions in regards to our relationship since we’ve been rescued or questions about our personal lives.
“We’ll work around it,” Liv assures as I sit back in my seat and eye him. When he lifts his gaze to mine, I see guilt.
Irony-laced jealousy runs through me as I cast my gaze to the floor. After nearly two hours of negotiating, Liv closes the meeting, shaking both our hands. Chris stands to follow her out, but I remain sitting, my arms crossed protectively over my chest.
“You’re going to leave it like this?”
“I’m not leaving any fucking thing, Katy.”
I stand and smooth down my dress. I need to get back to my husband. I’m well aware his mind is racing with a thousand unanswered questions, and I want more than anything to erase his doubts, but it seems like an impossible task at this point. Clarity is an illusion when I’m with Briggs.
“Tell me something better than I’m sorry to say,” I beg him. “I can’t say that to you; it’s not enough.”
He studies me, and my skin begins to burn from the contact. Hunger, lust, ache, need, and love runs rampant over his face and in his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures me before he turns and leaves the room.
Chapter Forty-Three
Briggs
What I’m feeling is dangerous. The need to touch her outweighs everything else, but I might as well still be chained to the wall of that fucking bunker for all the good it does me. Of all the things I’ve felt in the last hour, need is what took hold, and I can’t shake it, especially when hers mirrors mine. Our selfish needs have cost us dearly. I agreed to this trip for her, but I also knew I needed to lay eyes on her to feel any sort of relief from the pain of missing her.
That unrelenting ache centers my universe now as I curse my stupidity in thinking seeing her might help me move on.
Still drowning in the look in her eyes, I make my way toward the elevator just as she emerges from the conference room. Our eyes lock as I step inside. As the doors close, I feel the injustice of what’s happening. All we want is the freedom to love each other without the price we’d have to pay, though hers comes at a far higher one.
Loving her is costing me my sanity, and I can’t deny that in a way I’m beginning to blame her for it.
I hit the button for the lobby instead of going to my room. Staring at walls is only going to rekindle the restlessness stirring within. The elevator comes to a halt at the bar level, and I step back. When the doors open, I meet the eyes of the man who’s just labeled me his nemesis.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
His eyes flare with unfathomable anger as he sizes me up, freely letting his hatred flow. It emanates from his every pore as his fists clench at his sides.
I can smell the liquor on his breath from feet away. Bile rises in my throat as his eyes command me for the show of respect he deserves.
Goddamn it!
Fighting to keep the curse inside, I snap my boots and begin to lift my hand as he takes a step into the elevator and turns his back on me, his brother in arms. It’s the ultimate sign of disrespect.
In that moment, the darkest thought I’ve ever had as a soldier crosses my mind.
I wish I’d never made it out of that Humvee.
Fire races through my veins as rage swallows me whole, and I cling to it because it feels a hell of a lot better than a minute ago.