A Lover's Lament(69)

“How about breakfast in the morning? I can make your favorite.”

“I have to work.”

“Don’t do this, Katie,” she pleads.

“Don’t do what?” I hiss. “What am I supposed to do? Should I just pretend that he didn’t exist, pretend that something horrible didn’t happen—”

“I know it looks bad—”

“Looks bad?” I scoff, pressing my thumbs into my temples because, damn it, I do not want to cry right now. “It doesn’t look bad, Mom, it is bad. I’ve done everything I can do, and I keep coming up empty-handed. I’ve contacted every military facility I can find, but nobody knows anything, or they just don’t want to tell me. So either something terrible has happened, or …” My words, along with my thoughts, trail off.

“Katie, I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

“I have to go, Mom.” Ending the call, I power my phone down, lock my door, grab my laptop and crawl into bed.



To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay

From: Katie Devora

Subject: What do you say?

Devin,

My mind is f*cking with me something fierce. I’ve considered the fact that maybe I’ve been duped … maybe you’re not responding to my emails or calling because this was all some sort of joke or game and I’ve been played. But then I read the letters you’ve sent me and I know that couldn’t be it. Then I get mad at myself for even thinking it, because you promised you wouldn’t hurt me again. And I do believe you.

Last night I cried myself to sleep because this pain that has settled in the center of my chest is becoming too much to bear, and each day it hurts just a little bit more. I had another dream about you, only this time you weren’t hurt and it had nothing to do with our last phone call. In fact, you were here with me. We were in bed. My head was resting over your heart. Your left arm was wrapped around my shoulder, your finger drawing circles over my bare arm. It was perfect. We were happy and didn’t have a care in the world. And then I woke up and realized that I may never get to feel your skin against mine again, and that thought alone nearly brought me to my knees.

I want that, Devin. I want to see you. I want to feel your lips brush mine, to feel our fingers link the way they used to. But at the same time, I want to start over because we’re two different people than we were back then. I want the firsts all over again with the man that you’ve become. I want the first date, the first awkward kiss—because there always is one (remember ours?)—the first non-awkward kiss, the first everything. I want to snuggle up next to you and fall asleep to the beat of your heart. I want to be woken up in the middle of the night by your touch … the list goes on and on, but basically, I want it all.

More than that, right now, I just want to hear from you. If I can’t feel you, I want to hear your voice.

Love,

Katie





“Fighting My Way Back” – After Midnight Project

FIVE FUCKING DAYS I’VE BEEN stuck inside this building with the entire company up my f*cking ass. We stand all day, one beside the other, in the hallways, one hundred soldiers deep, with nothing to do but let our thoughts run wild and nothing more than what we were able to carry in both arms.

A lucky enemy mortar round hit our ammunition point, which led to secondary explosions best saved for the Fourth of July—and for way f*cking further away than two hundred feet. Our own artillery shells and tracer rounds burst under the heat of the flames, arching aimlessly in a blaze across the sky.

Disregarding our own safety, we watched the show outside for a little while as the shells erupted into beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows. Eventually, we were called inside by leadership, who, by the way, have been staying in their own buildings and in their own rooms. So while we’re left here like homeless under an overpass, the pricks have been sleeping comfortably in their cots.

Not that there’s been much sleep to be had. From behind these walls, it’s sounded like the entire compound was in the middle of Armageddon. Two days ago the explosions stopped, and since then, explosive ordnance disposal teams from the Green Zone have picked through spent rounds, carefully loading those that failed to detonate onto trucks to be taken to the middle of nowhere and manually blown up. God knows what shape the compound is in right now.

As for headquarters, there wasn’t any significant damage and no one was injured, thankfully. Some * in 3rd Platoon claimed he was hit with shrapnel, but it ended up only being some shards of glass from a broken window. What he really meant to say was that he’s being a bitch and wants to go home.

Our radio communications are still up, but that’s been our only connection to the outside world. Which means …

No phone.

No Internet.

No Katie.

I’m lying beside Navas in the middle of the hallway with the rest of the platoon sprawled out around us, and it feels like these walls are beginning to close in around me. I haven’t really spoken to anyone in a while. I’m sick of talking and sick of pretending we aren’t stuck inside this hellhole.

A blanket is tucked under each armpit and my head sits snugly against a pillow as I stare at the same Sports Illustrated I’ve read a thousand times before. All I can think about is Katie and what’s running through her mind during all of this. I know she heard that last explosion, because I could hear her talking right before it hit. Her last words float around my head … Devin, I’m scared.