Survivor (First to Fight #2)(10)

She staggers out of the kitchen and down the back hall to the back door. I follow silently behind as she throws open the door and damn near falls out of the house onto the porch. She manages to make it to the steps where she buckles on the top step and leans against the railing.

Not wanting to push her, knowing the pressure will only make her draw away even more, I keep silent. We sit there for a while in a companionable silence, the sounds of the people in the front yard filtering back on the warm afternoon air. The rain stopped as soon as the funeral ended, which I thought fitting. Sofie’s mom was all about the sunshine and I know she would have wanted it to shine here for her kids and loved ones.

After a while, Sofie gets to her feet. “I’d like my things, please.”

I nod and retrieve them from her room on the lower floor. I didn’t look. I didn’t want to know her secrets unless she was ready to tell me, wanting to be worthy of them in some twisted way.

“I’m going home now. To think. I’ll call you when I know where we go from here,” she says. The color is finally back in her cheeks along with the steel in her spine.

“Fair enough,” I say. “We’ll be here.”

She nods and without saying anything else, turns and goes back into the house. I watch her go until she disappears around the corner.

I could fight, could force her to stay and face her responsibilities, but I won’t.

I’ve been waiting ten years for her to come back and I know what it is to be patient.

I can be patient a few days longer.





Past



My heart tumbles into a hundred pieces at my feet. I reach out and snatch the letter from Jack’s slack hands. “It’s nothing.”

Jack takes my arm and pulls me down the hall away from Damian and around a corner. “When were you going to tell me?” he demands, shoving the paper in my hands.

I pull away, rubbing my arm. “I didn’t know how to. You just got here.”

His face tightens and he turns away, shoving a hand through his hair.

“I just applied as a joke. I never thought I’d actually get in.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asks, his voice low.

“No, of course not. I—”

“I mean did you think I didn’t know about Tulane? There’s all kinds of shit in your room: flyers, applications, catalogs. Last year, when we were talking about what we wanted in the future, it was all you could talk about.”

“You don’t even know if I got in.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re kidding right? Of course you got in. I bet you even got some kind of scholarship, didn’t you?” His voice is teasing, light, but I’m too afraid to trust the shift in his mood. Choosing between going to the school of my dreams and being with the man who owns my heart has been making me crazy.

“Yeah,” I say, looking at my feet.

A finger lifts my chin. “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“How could I be mad about something like this? It’s a good thing.”

“I don’t know how you can see being away from each other for four years as a good thing.”

“We both knew when I joined up we’d be apart for a while. Neither of us are ready to pull the marriage card and school is important.”

“I could still go to a school near you.”

He shakes his head. “Not a chance. We both know how much you love Tulane and as much as I know you love me, I won’t let you give up an opportunity like this. Not when you’ve been so supportive of me.” He tugs me closer. “Have you toured the campus?”

“Mom and I are supposed to sometime, but…”

“But, what?”

“The only opening they have is this weekend.”

“Well, that sucks, but I don’t want you putting off your future for me.”

I open my mouth to protest, but his arms hold tight around me. “Let me finish,” he says firmly. His fingers flirt with mine and I keep silent. “I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it. When I thought about what my life would be like after training, it was always a life that included you at the finish line. That doesn’t mean we need to get married right away, though I should let you know now, straight up, that that’s in the cards for me when it comes to you. But, I also want you to go to college, have that experience. I would never want to take that away from you.”

My eyes flick down to my hands. I want to believe him, I do. Four years apart is a long time, though, and one of us has to be realistic. The words tumble from my lips out of pure self-preservation. “But what about us?”

His hand comes up to frame my face, holding me in place, his touch stilling my racing thoughts. I feel my body curving toward him, a question seeking its answer. “We’ll make it work. What I feel for you…I know it’ll be worth waiting for.”

Jack: Are you back yet?

Sofie: About an hour away. What are you doing?

Jack: Staring at a bunch of half-naked dudes. Send help.

Sofie: Am now jumping out of the car and running like the Flash.

Jack: Help is on the way

Sofie: :O) How’d the tournament go?

Jack: It was all right. Dad wasn’t kidding about being worn out. Worried about him.