Bitter disappointment coated her tongue. She didn’t want to be one of his students. She wanted to be special. Different. Important.
Wishes…they were such a waste of time. If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.
The night closed around them. Jamie looked up at the stars twinkling from the heavens. “I didn’t think it would cost this much,” she whispered. “I didn’t know that the darkness would get inside of me and eat me alive.”
“I tried to warn you.”
“A lot of good that does me now.”
“Jamie, I-”
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t bother explaining, Zach. You’re right. You did try to warn me. I still remember what you said. That this wasn’t going to be a nine-to-five job. It wasn’t selling insurance or working in an office. That once I crossed the line, I could never find my way back. I suppose I should have listened.”
But she couldn’t have. Not then. At that moment, seven years ago, all she’d been able to focus on was that Zach didn’t want her. The pain had filled her until nothing else was real. She’d carried the hurt for years. In some ways, it was still with her. The job had been the only constant she could cling to. She would never have wanted to hear the agency might not be the right place for her. After Zach rejected her, she had something to prove.
“I didn’t believe you,” she said at last.
“And now?”
“Now I know you were right. Satisfied?”
“No. Despite what you think about me, I didn’t want to be right. I wanted you to make it work. No one else had, but I thought you might have a chance.”
It took her a couple of minutes to figure out the burning in her eyes wasn’t from exhaustion but from tears. Dammit, she refused to cry.
“Sorry to let you down,” she said lightly as she blinked away the moisture. “I guess I can’t be your best student after all.”
She wondered if he heard the bitterness behind her attempt at humor. If he did, he didn’t mention it.
“I can’t help you find your way back,” he said quietly. “I don’t know that there is a way. I’m sorry. I wish it could be different.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. I knew you could be the best. I knew the price you would pay and I tried to warn you, but I think I always knew you weren’t going to listen. Whatever else happened between us, I always respected you.”
She didn’t know what to say. It was the first time he’d referred to their time together without being cutting or sarcastic. Intense longing filled her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him close until they both forgot everything but being together. She wanted to be near him, naked, touching, loving. She remembered what it had been like to make love with him. He’d been so considerate, teaching her everything she would ever need to know.
But she didn’t reach out to him. Instead, she cringed as she recalled her innocent enthusiasm and how eager she’d been to learn. What had he thought of her then? She’d held nothing back, not physically or emotionally. She’d exposed her very soul to this man, and he’d chosen to walk away.
She’d learned her lesson. She would never risk that much again.
“By the end of the first week of class, I knew you were special,” he said. “You had so much potential. That’s why I rode you so hard. And you didn’t let me down. But as graduation got closer, I wasn’t so sure. You would be a damn fine agent. But at what price? We all pay it. There’s no getting away from it. The danger, the life-style, it requires everything. When the assignment is over and we go home, there’s nothing left inside. When the war is over, the warrior is simply unnecessary.”
“But is the war ever over?”
“It is for you,” he said. “You chose to walk away. What are you going to do?”
He had her there. She’d quit, but she didn’t have a plan for her life.
“I don’t know. There are so many options. Sometimes I’m immobilized by my choices.”
“Your price is higher because you’re a woman,” he said.
She swore loudly.
He turned his head toward her. “You know it’s true, Jamie. You’re what, thirty?”
She nodded.
“Can you honestly tell me you’ve never regretted not having a child?”
“It’s not too late,” she reminded him. “I’ve got lots of childbearing years left. What about you? Don’t you regret never having a family?”
He faced front. “Sometimes. The difference is you still believe it’s possible, and I know it never was. At least not for me. Therefore, you’ve lost more.”
His logic made sense in a twisted sort of way. “You continue to surprise me, Zach. Just when I think you’re an insensitive clod, you go and say something insightful.”
“Hey, I’m full of surprises.”
He was. This conversation was a surprise. She supposed it was the night that allowed them to talk so freely. Over the years, shadows had become their home. Darkness a friend. Something about the light made them feel exposed. Here the shadows made it safe.
“Surprise me again,” she said. “Tell me when you’re going to get out.”
He stood up and walked to the edge of the porch. It was only three feet away, but she felt as if he’d moved to another country. Their connection severed instantly, and the cold seeped into her bones.
He pulled the quilt over his shoulders and braced his hands on the railing. “I won’t be. This is all I know.”
She dropped her head to her knees. The hell of it was, he was telling the truth. He didn’t know any other world. Her heart ached for him.
“I’m not sure you have a choice,” she said. “How many more times can you go through what you just endured? How many more times can you face death and walk away?”
“I can’t answer that. Maybe death is the only way out.”
“Don’t say that. Of course there’s another way.”
“When you find it, let me know.”
She glared at his back. “I hate it when you’re cynical. I refuse to believe this is all there is. We are intelligent creatures. We make choices. If we choose to let go of the past, then the future opens up to us.”
“Keep saying it long enough and you’ll start to believe it.”
She stood up and crossed the porch. “There has to be more.”
“Why?”
“Because-” She bit her lower lip. She didn’t have an answer.
He shook his head. “Just because you want it to be true, doesn’t make it so. There doesn’t have to be more. There doesn’t have to be anything. Sometimes this is all there is.”
“Other people have lives. Normal lives. I’ve seen them. They feel things and survive being ordinary. Are you saying that’s not available to us?”
“Those ordinary people you so admire couldn’t do what we do.”
She leaned against the railing. “Probably not.”
“Have you considered that there might be two different kinds of people? Those of us who live on the fringes, and everyone else? We aren’t the same for a reason. We can’t pretend to be what we’re not.”
“I refuse to believe that.”
He shrugged. “Whatever gets you through the night.”
She turned away from the forest beyond them and stared back at the house. Zach couldn’t be right. There were always choices. She’d chosen to enter the agency and she’d chosen to walk away. Two distinct choices that would affect her in radically different ways. Surely that changed everything. She was determined to get in touch with parts of herself she’d ignored, to find some kind of balance. Of course it wasn’t going to be easy. Change never was. But it would be worth it in the end.
“I wonder how many people stay in because it’s easier than getting out,” she said. “After all, leaving means facing the demons.”
“There are no demons.”
“Aren’t there? What about the ghosts of the dead? What about the ugly memories, the pain, the suffering? Aren’t those demons?”
