Someone Else's Ocean(46)

“I’m telling Ella,” he said as he flicked two fingers out and closed them at his heart, “that I’m staying at my neighbor’s as the paint dries at her grandmother’s house.” He twisted the computer and I saw his daughter wave at me excitedly. I straightened in my seat and waved back.

Ella waved a hand over her face and closed her fist before she began frantically signing.

“She wants to know if you’re my new girlfriend.”

I shook my head and wound my index finger next to my ear and pointed at her father to let her know I thought he was crazy. She laughed on screen. Ella was a beautiful little girl with long blonde hair and deep-water eyes. I assumed she favored her mother. And then she spoke. “Dad, what have you done to her?” Her English was clear but tainted in the way where she sounded as if she spoke through her nose.

He mocked offense and then spoke. “Nothing. I’ve done nothing to her.”

“Does she read lips?” I asked.

He looked between us as Ella spoke up. “Yes, Koti, I read lips.”

I moved in so she could get a better look at them.

“He’s lying to you. He’s an awful neighbor. I only let him come here because of this.” I lifted Disco up and heard her loud squeal. Though her voice wasn’t completely clear and she had a slightly off point tongue, she had mastered her speech. “Oh wow. Please, Daddy, tell me that puppy is for me!”

“She belongs to Koti and you’ll meet her when you come,” he signed as he spoke.

“What’s her name?” Ella asked animatedly.

“Disco,” Ian and I both answered before sharing a smile.

“I love it,” Ella said, beaming.

“I’m going to give you some privacy. It was nice meeting you.” I told Ella directly.

“Nice to meet you,” she waved. I was close to leaving the room when she spoke up again.

“Dad, she’s so pretty. Is she why you haven’t come home?”

I looked over my shoulder to see him jerk his head to cut her off. I made my way to my bedroom and plucked a book from my shelf. I was curious as to why his daughter would be encouraging him to date. And after meeting her, I was curious about far more than that. Ignoring the constant clench in my stomach and the new warmth that spread through me, I successfully immersed myself into the pages.

An hour or so later, there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

“You decent?”

I was tangled in my body pillow. “Yep.”

“Sorry, I don’t want to make you feel like you have to retreat in your own house.”

“This isn’t my house,” I said with a wink. His gaze moved from the book I was holding to the bare leg that gripped the pillow.

“Trust me, I’m good here.”

“What are you reading?”

“Outlander.”

“Ah,” he said with a smile. “My daughter loves those books.”

“They’re amazing,” I said, sitting up.

“Well, I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Thanks for dinner.”

“No problem.”

“There’s some extra pillows in your closet.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Goodnight.”





THE NEXT DAY AFTER WORK, Ian wasn’t home when I got there so I did the twenty-minute prep for dinner. Foil, almonds, salt, butter. Simple and delicious. I went to my bathroom and disrobed before I realized I was out of shampoo. Knowing my hair would be a rat’s nest if I used soap, I wrapped a towel around myself and crept down the hall to Ian’s room and knocked out of consideration, which I was sure he would appreciate before I walked into the bathroom to grab the extra bottle. On my way back through the bedroom, I saw an open letter on his bed. Against my better judgment, I peeked. It had Ian’s signature on the bottom. I glanced around briefly before I picked it up.




Tara,



I used to be the guy that gave the other guys hell. You know the guys who whined about home. I was the ballbuster, so to speak, and the perfect wingman, but hell on the family man. I was the one who swore the metal in his hands and his country were all that mattered.

In the mess hall tonight—if you want to call a tent in the middle of hell a hall—I finally figured out the issue with those sad bastards. They weren’t sure if they would get to see the faces of the woman they decided on.

I get that agony. I’m living it now because I decided on you.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t looked your way when you smiled at me. Sometimes I think it would be better if I were out here with a clear heart and nothing to lose. But, the sweet agony, the burn of missing you, needing you, it feels phenomenal. And I get it. And I’m swimming in it because I know without a doubt, what we have is as real as what the sad bastard next to me has.

I miss your laugh, your face, the feel of your skin, the little moan you give when our lips connect. I miss your shitty jokes and giving you the answers to your mid-term prep questions. I miss the feel of your breasts on my back and waking up to fight you for bedsheets.

There are so many things that a soldier looks forward to, a hot shower, a decent meal, a good night’s sleep, Chapstick, and a day without a bullet whizzing past their head. But even in a third-world country, where these things really matter, when a man has the comfort of a woman’s eyes to concentrate on, the soft feel of her lips and fingers, it’s like a lightning strike of ache that can’t be ignored. I took you for granted even before I left your side. I didn’t stare long enough, I didn’t kiss you long enough, I didn’t tell you how much that smile mattered. Because it mattered. It’s why I chose you.