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. Instead of talking about it, he locked it down and insisted he was fine every time I asked.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” I had the day off, so I wanted us to spend it together. He walked out of the room and when I heard the bathroom door close behind him, I took a deep breath and got dressed.
As he was leaving the bathroom, I brushed past him and ducked inside. Teeth brushed, hair in a high ponytail, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. You get so used to your own face that after a while, you stop seeing it but now I took a good, hard look.
I hadn’t changed much. I still had a sprinkle of freckles on my nose. Same green eyes and heart-shaped face. Small nose, wide mouth. Brows a shade darker than my hair.
I’d never been the most gorgeous girl in the room but I’d always been okay with the way I looked. Jude used to tell me I was beautiful all the time. In actuality, I leaned more toward cute, and on my better days you could call me pretty. But he used to think I was beautiful.
Now, I wasn’t sure what he thought.
When had he stopped being attracted to me? It was recent, I knew that. When he used to come home on leave, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. He used to fuck me into oblivion. But in the two weeks since he’d come home, he hadn’t touched me once.
With a sigh, I joined him in the kitchen. It was small and beige like the rest of the apartment. My potted herbs sat on the windowsill next to a mason jar filled with daisies, my attempt to brighten up a dull room.
“Your mom’s throwing that party for you today.” I peeled a banana and took a bite, watching Jude’s throat bob as he drank a sports drink. He didn’t acknowledge my words, and I thought he hadn’t even heard me so I repeated myself.
“Heard you the first time.” He tossed the empty bottle into the trash and grabbed his keys from the countertop, twirling the key ring around his finger. “Ready?”
He didn’t even bother waiting for my answer. He was out the door. I finished my banana, drank a glass of water then walked out the door when I was good and ready.
Our two-story brick apartment building was plunked down in the middle of rural Hill Country, surrounded by fields and scattered houses that didn’t conform to any particular design. The apartment was nothing special but our rent was cheap so we could save our money for the house and land we were hoping to buy someday.
Before we set off on our run, Jude slipped on a pair of sunglasses. It was still early, the sun hiding behind the clouds and it wasn’t that bright but he was wearing sunglasses. Which was odd. Jude never used to wear sunglasses. He looked like a Marine. Like a jarhead. And I hated that he looked so different. But I knew it had nothing to do with the way he looked and everything to do with the way he was acting.
He set a punishing pace and I pushed myself to keep up. I had a feeling we’d run until my legs were burning and I’d collapse when it was over.
I side-eyed Jude as our feet pounded the dirt road on one of his favorite routes. It was hilly, parts of it steep. Limestone cliffs rose from the ground, reaching for the clouds and thanks to all the rain we had in the spring, the fields were lush and green.
One time I asked Jude to describe Afghanistan. What did it look like? What was the weather like? Stuff like that. Always hungry for information, I used to ask Jude for details so I could try to imagine where he was when he wasn’t with me.
“Depends where you are,” he’d said. “The terrain can be brutal. Steep, jagged mountains with razor edges. Desert. Other places there’re poppy fields and cornfields. You freeze in the winter and sweat your balls off in the summer. The sand gets in everywhere. And I mean everywhere. You have to watch so you don’t get stung by scorpions. Not much you can do about the sand fleas and chiggers.”
He told me that he’d sometimes gone for months without a shower. When he was doing Recon, they’d get dropped into the middle of nowhere, forty kilometers away from civilization and they’d have to carry everything on their backs. So on top of being in rough terrain, they were carrying upwards of a hundred pounds. He said he’d gone for weeks without dry boots because they’d been wading through mud and thigh-high water.
It sounded like hell on earth. But he’d never complained about any of that.
I stumbled and Jude grabbed my elbow, catching me before I fell. His reflexes were lightning-quick and even though it felt like he was a million miles away, his steadying hand reminded me he was right next to me.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Rebel. Stop looking at me.”
He hadn’t used my nickname in a while and stupidly it gave me hope. Like we would be okay just because he’d used his childhood nickname for me. “I can’t help it. You’re just too pretty,” I teased.
“Pretty,” he scoffed. “I’m a lean, mean fighting machine.”
“The fight is over,” I reminded him.
