Corinne Michaels - Beloved

“You’re going to listen to me, goddamnit. Four days ago, when we went into that lawyer’s office, I was falling apart. Everything in my life felt out of control. It was you who held me together. I drew on your strength to get through that fucking day from hell.” I close my eyes, remembering what came after that. “But after everything else, I was terrified. You could hurt me so much. I was falling in love with you weeks ago, but that day I saw it all vanish. I ran because I was so afraid you’d let me go. I thought if I pushed you away before you got rid of me, it would be better. But it wasn’t!”

Jackson turns and looks at me, the battle still raging inside him. “I’m not running, Catherine. Aaron is dead. I’m going to collect his fucking body and deliver it to his pregnant wife. Guess whose fault it is again? I give up trying to fight a war I’ll never win.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He goes stone-cold, every muscle rigid and tense. The blue-green eyes I love are black and glossy. “Try telling Natalie that. I leave tonight for Afghanistan to get his body and bring it home. I’m done arguing with you. I’m just … done.”

If I don’t get this out now, I’ll find a reason to hold back. I’m trembling from adrenaline as well as the fear of him walking out this door.

“I’m ready to fight for you. For so long I thought it wasn’t my choice if things worked or not with any man. But with you—it’s different. You told me I was it for you. Well, same here. I love you.” I look into his eyes, completely vulnerable. No walls, nothing to hide my emotions. I’m giving him the truth with everything I am. “So you choose, Jackson. You tell me now if you want me to walk away. You walked through my door today. It’s up to you to keep it open. I’m not talking about going to do what you have to do. Please, don’t close the door on us.”

The silence surrounds us, giving me the answer I was dreading. I drop my head while I struggle to keep the tears in check. When I feel his hand on my chin, my heart sputters. Once I look up, I’ll have to face the truth. My gaze drifts as my chin glides toward his eyes. His face gives nothing away. My emotions are like a dam about to break.

“Say something, dammit!” I yell with tears in my eyes.

Jackson’s hand drops from my face, leaving me bereft. “I’ve said it all already. You’re not listening.”

“That’s your answer?” I ask, defeated.

He looks up, shaking his head, then exhales. “Everyone I love or care about dies. I’m protecting you.”

“No. You’re protecting yourself. People die, Jackson. It’s tragic, but it happens.”

His fingers sweep the hair off my face, lingering in my hair. “You know that night we met in the restaurant? It was so intense. I’d never felt so connected to someone so quickly. You walked away. Then, by some miracle …” Jackson’s hands cup my face. He takes a moment with his eyes closed. “You found your way back. I won’t allow anything to hurt you. Including me.” Releasing a heavy sigh, he drops his hands.

“The only thing hurting me is you leaving.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He grips the back of his neck and looks at the ceiling.

There has to be a way. If I can keep him talking, maybe he won’t go. “Of course you have a choice! Please. I’m begging you. Stay tonight, fly out tomorrow—please stay with me. We can figure this out. You’re too upset to drive or be alone. I want to be here for you, but you’re pushing me away.”

Jackson stares at the window, unwilling to look at me. “The plane leaves tonight.”

If he has to leave because he needs to deal with whatever is going on, fine. But he’s leaving and planning to end things. If he walks out the door, I fear it’s truly the end.

“I won’t give up on us. I know you’re hurting and I understand you have to handle this situation, but you can lean on me. Let me carry some of your burden. Talk to me, Jackson. Let me in.”

Our eyes meet for a moment before his lips crush against mine. I’d give everything up right now if he’d keep me in his embrace. His tongue demands entrance and my lips part, allowing him access. Every organ clenches as he pours himself into the kiss. I give him everything right back. All the love in my heart, my body, I offer him at this moment.

Needing an answer, I break the kiss. My heart is pounding so loud I’d swear he could hear it. I take a deep breath. “Don’t kiss me if you’re going to break my heart.”

He looks at me with a mix of fear and regret. Then he closes his eyes and whispers, “Good-bye, Catherine.” Jackson walks out the door without a backward glance.

I stand there, waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Surely that didn’t happen. I’m asleep—that has to be it. I’m at my kitchen table with the papers strewn everywhere because that did not happen. Only it did. I look around my apartment, at the hole in the wall where Jackson punched it in anger. The door he walked through is still open, waiting for him to walk back through. I stare at the space he walked away from. It seems to be growing smaller, shrinking into itself as time does the same. He doesn’t return. The thunder booms outside, snapping me from my haze. The tempest within becomes a hurricane.

He’s gone.

He walked out on me after he promised he wouldn’t. My heart splinters like glass on the ground—jagged and raw and ready to cut with all its sharp edges. I knew this was going to happen eventually—I’d hoped not to fall, but I guess it’s too late for that now. I’ve crested the mountain only to fall down the other side, and no one is going to catch me.

~Seven days later-Afghanistan~

“Fuck. I didn’t miss this shithole!” I glance over at Mark, who’s looking out at the village on the left, checking for anything out of the norm.

“Need to clean the sand out of your vag, Muff? Does Kitty know you’re this big of a pussy?” Mark taunts like the douchebag he is.

I scoff at his sorry attempt at a jab. “Kiss my ass. Try not to sparkle too much while we’re here. You might draw some hijab attention.” I give him the finger and he starts laughing. “Also, don’t talk about Catherine.”

“Touchy. Have you told her yet?”

“No,” I say with no room for further discussion. He’s already told me I need to tell her about my past, but I wasn’t going to drop that shit on her lap and rush off to deal with the mess here.

Mark and I didn’t speak for the first leg of the trip, both of us dealing with the loss of yet another member of our team. This shit is fucking with both of us. We started with six—and then there were two. When you’re active duty, you know your time is numbered. Once you’re out, though, that’s not how you think anymore.

I look to the left, take a deep breath, and regret doing that immediately. The Humvee smells like shit, but we’ve been traveling for five long ass days, so we aren’t any better. We flew into Spain and waited there for two days. Rota reminded me of the trouble we got in during the last deployment here. It was a fucking joke. We drank, ate, drank some more, and worked out. Made bank and went home.

Then we flew into Dubai for another two days. At least in Dubai there’s a ton of shit to do. Of course, it was only supposed to be a five-hour layover, but when you’re flying on Navy equipment, you expect the unexpected. Which is a nice way of saying prepare for that shit to break.

Since we’ve hit the sandbox, it’s been nothing but constant bullshit. Our convoy never met us at the base we flew into. I had to call a bunch of old friends to get someone to come get us, then take us to Camp Victory so we could claim Aaron’s body. Normally that’s not how it works, but I don’t give a fuck. He’s our brother and we weren’t leaving him to fly alone. Mark had to pull a few strings to get it done, but he felt the same way. We owed Natalie that much.