Purple Hearts(31)

The sight of her on top of me, unhooking her bra.

Looking down at her antler tattoo, lifting her by the small of her back.

My mouth in the crook of her neck, tasting her, propping her on the bathroom countertop as I found the space between her legs.

For a moment, I was at peace, remembering. Then the elephant of anxiety sat on my chest. Unrelenting, the sound of nothing but everything pulsing. Heart and skull in sync, too hard to hear or think, needles in my eyeballs, my tongue a bitter, foreign object.

What time was it?

I shot off the bed, picking up pieces of clothing off the ground, dropping them when I realized they weren’t mine. Found my Levi’s, my dead phone.

The motel clock said 6:00. I didn’t trust that. What if it was just stuck on 6:00? I had to be at the airport to deploy at 0800.

Cassie stirred.

“Where’s your phone?” I hissed, grabbing her jacket, her purse.

“Purse,” she muttered, her voice hoarse.

I dug through lighters, cylinders, journals, pens. Found it: 6:01. All right. I could get there if I left now. I googled cab austin with shaking hands. We’d had exactly three hours of sleep.

“What are you doing?” she asked, yawning.

“Getting a cab. I should have left an hour ago,” I said, hearing the click and snappy voice of the operator after two rings.

Cassie pulled open the curtains, flooding the dingy room with white morning sun, dust lifting from the furniture where we had draped ourselves last night, hungry for each other, forgetting.

I’d be cutting it close. But TSA would let me through quickly if they saw I was active duty. I went into the bathroom, washed my hands, my face, wishing I could pierce a hole in my head and empty out the thoughts stampeding through. You’re late. You’ll miss your plane. You’ll slip up and use again. This woman hates you. She’s embarrassed.

Cassie appeared behind me, fully dressed. Her eyes still had puffy sleep in them, her hair matted at the ends.

An image hit of her unbuckling my pants. Half lust, half nausea shot to my gut.

That was not part of our agreement, what we did.

Whose idea was it? Had she come on to me, or had I come on to her?

We didn’t even get along.

Maybe that’s what we were doing. We were trying to fuck ourselves into liking each other.

“Do you want me to take you to the airport?” she asked, yawning again.

“No,” I said. “Thanks,” I added.

“It’s no big deal,” she started, then caught my eyes in the mirror.

I avoided them. “I want to go alone.”

“When is the cab getting here?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“I can take you . . .” She pretended to look at an invisible watch. “Literally now.”

I let out a laugh despite myself. It made much more sense. And it dissipated two out of the thousand circulating thoughts. I wouldn’t be late. She didn’t hate me. “Thanks. It’s probably better for appearances anyhow.”

I took a swig of mouthwash from the tiny bottle near the sink.

“So,” she said as I swished. “Last night.”

I shook my head, keeping the mouthwash in longer than I needed to, hoping she’d drop it. Too many bad thoughts remained. I couldn’t find the right ones even if I wanted to. Everyone knows you’re faking. You’re not one of them. You’re going to have no one. You’ll be alone. You’re going to die. You’re going to die alone. The liquid burned my gums.

I spit.

“I don’t feel awkward,” she said, leaning against the door frame. “I mean, we’re married. Married people do that sometimes.”

“Yeah.” I walked past her in the doorway, still smelling the cucumber of her shampoo. I pushed it away. I found a pad of paper in a drawer in the bedside table, and lugged my bag on my back.

“Word,” she said, grabbing her purse and giving me a winning smile. “Awkward silence it is.”

“I don’t feel awkward. I’m just focused.”

“I get it, I get it,” she said. “I mean, I don’t fully get what it feels like, but, yeah. I get it.”

I closed the door and we descended down the stairs. Cassie jogged over to drop the room key in the slot next to the lobby.

We got into the Subaru.

“Here,” I said as we clicked our seat belts. I handed her the piece of motel stationery on which I had written Jacob’s phone number. “You’re my next of kin now.”

She kept her eyes down, reading. “I know.”

She put it in her pocket.

“If anything happens to me, they’re going to come to you.”

Cassie took a deep, shaky breath, backing out of the parking space. “Okay. Yeah, that makes sense.”

The morning light shone through the windshield. So much buildup for deployment, so much training for this day, and it was finally here. No turning back. Whether or not I was a coward, whether or not I deserved to make my life better, it was already decided for me. Either I would get through the next nine months, or I wouldn’t. Starting today.

At the American Airlines drop-off, Frankie and Armando stood, their eyes on every car that passed. When they saw us pull up, they jogged over. I got out of the car.

“Damn, Morrow!” Armando said. “We thought you were going to miss the flight.”