In the Stillness(39)

I leaned forward. “I thought he was getting help. He told me he was getting help.”

Bill’s eyebrows came together as he muddled over my words. Just then, Ryker entered, carrying grocery bags.

“Hey guys!” He set the bags in the kitchen and turned to hang up his coat. October was unusually cool that year.

“Hey, Babe.” I stood and kissed him as we met in the entryway.

I could feel Bill watching us with concern. It occurred to me that I had no idea what Ryker was like when he was here and I wasn’t around. Maybe Bill had more reason to be worried than I thought.

“You’re in a good mood.” I smiled as I walked to the kitchen to start helping prepare dinner.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his hands together in excitement, “I talked to my recruiter today and we worked out a plan.”

I stopped. Mid-whatever-I-was-doing, I stopped and watched him carefully. Bill ran a hand through his hair and listened. I tried to, too.

“A plan?” I asked, hoping for any answer other than what I feared was coming.

“Yeah. I’ll go back to Amherst in January, finish the courses that would have made up my sophomore year—before I was deployed—and I’ll reenlist when the semester’s over.” The look on his face was pure joy.

Bill stepped toward me as I stared into the counter. “Natalie, are you okay?”

I looked up, sweat breaking out across my forehead. “No.” I swallowed hard and ran to their upstairs bathroom.

After a few minutes of throwing up, a soft knock came on the bathroom door.

“Nat?” It was Ryker.

I splashed water on my face and opened the door. “Sorry,” I whispered.

“Come here.” He took me by the hand and walked me to his bedroom. After we sat down on the bed, he continued, “You knew what I wanted . . .” Ryker brushed a loose strand of hair away from my eyes and tucked it behind my ear.

Unable to look at him, I let my eyes scan the room. Pictures of us, things from Amherst College, and a few things from the National Guard decorated his bedroom. A picture on his desk caught my eye.

I walked over to it and picked it up, running my thumb over the glass. “What’s this?”

Ryker couldn’t look at me, either. He sat on his bed, leaned back on his palms. “My dad took it the day I left. He had it printed and framed—gave it to me last week.”

The picture I didn’t know existed was of Ryker and me hugging right before he left. It was taken kind of from the side, but you could see more of my back than his. Our faces were buried in each other’s necks as we hugged goodbye. I was suddenly focused on Ryker’s hands—clenching the red fabric over my lower back so tight his knuckles were white. As my tears fell on the glass, I looked at him.

“I can’t do that again, Ry.” I set the picture back down in its original spot and sat back next to him. “This war isn’t going to be over any time soon. Now they’re talking about invading Iraq . . . if you reenlist, you’re out of here again as fast as they can ship you—we both know that. I can’t do it again.”

He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “What are you saying?”

I took a deep breath, said a small prayer, and forced it out, “I’m saying I’m not cut out to be a military girlfriend. My schoolwork suffered when you were gone last time, I was horribly depressed, I—”

“So you’re saying if I reenlist you’ll leave me?”

I watched his jaw flex beneath his skin. I couldn’t swallow away the tears, so I just nodded.

“Fine,” his cold tone shocked me, “you might as well leave now, then, because I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Ryker, please. I love you—” I managed, reaching for his hand.

He whipped it away. “No! Go, I said! If you can’t support me, then I don’t need you around, doubting me.” He walked to his door and held it open.

Walking toward him, I watched his body stiffen. I thought maybe if he had the night to think it over, we could talk about it in the morning. All thoughts of that flew out the window as soon as he slammed the door behind me the second I stepped out of his room. I found Bill in the kitchen, standing over three empty plates.

“Natalie . . .” It was a tired plea, paved with resignation.

I shook my head and walked toward him. “I’m so sorry, Bill. I can’t do this anymore.” I grabbed him into a hug and he let out a small sigh into my hair. I pulled away quickly, not wanting to collapse into a heap on their kitchen floor. “I love him, but I can’t . . .”

“I know, Kid. I know.” Bill kissed the top of my head and I left their house.

I made it all the way back to my dorm room at Mount Holyoke before crashing into Tosha’s arms and sobbing for what felt like an eternity. The hope of a phone call the next day was the only thing keeping me from going completely over the edge. He’d change his mind, I thought.

*

Never mind. It’s about Ryker.

I sit in a mess of silent sobs on my bathroom floor; mourning the loss of a different life I had pictured for my boys, the disaster my marriage has become, and the fact that none of this would be happening if I hadn’t completely destroyed Ryker’s life—and nearly mine.

With a frustrated growl, I realize my empty tampon box is just that—empty. I used the last blade several days ago and haven’t cut since. Desperate to make sense of my life and not feel any of it at all, I tear my bathroom apart looking for something reasonable to stand in its place.