Disarm (20 page)

“I know, but I thought we could talk.” He sat up and scooted to the end of the bed, quietly watching me as I finished getting dressed.

“There's not much left to say, Henry.”

He caught my hand as I turned away. “Just . . . stay,” he said, his face open and imploring.

“I can't,” I said. “There's no point. You're leaving.”

He nodded and let me go. I didn't even kiss him good-bye. I just walked to the door with my purse clutched tightly to my side like a life preserver.

“Bye, Henry,” I said as I opened the door. “I hope you find yourself in Korea.”

RETURN TO BASE

Henry was gone again. Story of my life.

The shell I'd created around my heart had not been enough to keep me from feeling something for Henry again. I thought my heart could be detached from my body, but it seemed I was wrong.

And so the process of surviving a breakup began once more.

I had to keep reminding myself to move on. People lost the love of their lives every day, sometimes to things more permanent. I was no different from, no more special than those countless others nursing broken hearts, and wallowing in my grief was not the way I wanted my story told. So I tried to find pleasure in the small things, like the aroma of a fresh bag of coffee beans or the slide of silk on my legs after shaving. I wasn't anywhere near happy yet, but I was nearing content.

When you've resigned yourself to your fate, when you've really decided to move on, time passes in the blink of an eye.

I started to date again. One of my coworkers set me up on a blind date with a single friend and I had agreed out of curiosity. The guy was named Seth and he had short blond hair, green eyes, and a dimpled smile. For our first date, he took me to Dave & Buster's, a restaurant and game arcade, and after dinner we took our alcoholic beverages and walked around, playing the games together.

Being with Seth was easy. He gave me plenty of space, laughed a lot, and didn't ask too many personal questions. He liked to play the shootout basketball games and didn't let me win even one, always nudging me at the end and saying, “Good effort.”

At the end of the night he walked me to my doorstep and managed to appear both bashful and incredibly sexy as he looked at me, no doubt trying to gauge his chances at a kiss.

It had been ten months since Henry left for Korea; it was about damn time I finally allowed someone else into my heart. So I decided to give him a chance to kiss me.

He touched the side of my face and bent his head, bringing his mouth to mine, gently exploring before I parted my lips and allowed him inside. The kiss was gentle and sweet and held promise, everything that a first kiss ought to be.

Afterward, he ran a hand through his hair and said, “I really like you, Elsie.”

I looked at his earnest face and decided that he could very well be the guy to help me get over Henry. “I like you too, Seth,” I told him, which was the truth.

He smiled, revealing his dimples. “Do you want to do something tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” I said as he began to walk away backward.

“I'll call you later.” And he did. He called exactly one hour and fifteen minutes later.

Seth became my boyfriend a few weeks after that date. He called me nearly every night and we talked for hours about everything. In the interest of full disclosure, I told him about Henry, and Seth, in turn, told me about his past relationships. Our conversations flowed easily, and he was just so funny. The humor was what drew me to him, how he could make me laugh and forget about the past.

He worked at Dell as a software engineer. The fact that he also worked with computers, albeit in a slightly different manner from me, was one thing we bonded over. I liked to think we were geek kindred spirits.

Still, every time he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me I felt disconnected, as if I were just an observer instead of an active participant. I remained hopeful. I clutched him tighter, kissed him deeper, sure that, given some time, I would finally feel for him what he felt about me.

To celebrate our third month together, Seth took me to Chili's, of all places. It wasn't my first choice for a date but I didn't want to have to talk about Henry on a night when we were celebrating our relationship, so I just shut up and grinned.

“I'm not a cheapskate, promise,” he said as he pushed in my chair. He sat down across the table from me and flashed that dimpled grin again. “I just really like their ribs.”

My heart ached at the memories brought on by those damn baby-back ribs, but I'd gotten good at ignoring it by then.

I sat across from Seth, stealing little looks over our drinks. He was very handsome tonight in a light blue button-down shirt, the sleeves folded up to his elbows, and gray slacks, his hair slightly tousled. But as attractive as he was, I couldn't help but get the feeling that he would make a wonderful husband for a lucky woman someday.

“Here's to us,” he said, lifting his pint glass.

I clinked my iced tea with his beer and smiled.

He set down his drink, his face taking on a serious expression. He leaned across the table and held my hands. “Elsie, there's something I have to tell you,” he said. “I've felt this way for a long time now, but I've been too afraid to say it because of . . . you know, your past.”

I held my breath, hoping Seth wasn't about to tell me he loved me and ruin everything. I'd be content with our relationship if we never had to confess anything at all.

“Elsie,” he began, making my head hurt with the expectant look on his face. “I want us to move in together.”

I let out a small breath.

I must have looked shocked because Seth quickly said, “I know it's huge, but I wanted to let you know that I'm ready to take that next step with you.”

“Seth,” I said, not sure how to respond. My chest ached at the sincerity of his gesture and the hopeful look on his face. “I . . .”

The hope slipped off Seth's face. “You don't want to.”

I gently shook my head. “No, it's not that. It's just . . . I'm surprised.”

Seth scooted his chair closer to mine and took my hand. “Hey, I know it's a little soon. I just want you to think about it, then when you're ready, you let me know.”

A hopeful little glow flickered in my chest but it had been so long since I've felt hope that I almost didn't recognize it until it was too late. “Let me think about it, okay?” I asked, and as I looked at him I wondered for the umpteenth time if Seth was the guy I would grow old with. I didn't love him like I loved Henry, but Seth was wonderful and reliable. We could live together, maybe even get married, and have a perfectly stable and lovely life. For someone who had experienced so much turmoil in the past several years, stable and lovely sounded like heaven.

Of course, just when I was finally getting my affairs in order, fate threw a wrench in the form of a phone call.

“Hello?” I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder while I opened a bag of microwave popcorn, expecting Seth's voice. He always called after getting home from our dates.

Instead, a gravelly voice from the past said, “Hi Elsie.”

It took me a long time to respond, I was so dumbstruck. “Henry?” I set the popcorn on the counter and grasped the phone before I accidentally dropped it into the sink.

“Hey,” he said, sounding like he had a smile on his face. “How are you?”

“You're back?”

He chuckled at my shocked tone. “Yes. I got in last night.”

“Don't tell me you're back at Tinker,” I said. It didn't seem likely; hell, I'd even prayed that he be stationed somewhere across the country so that I wouldn't have to see him again.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. Can I come over for a bit?”

I was torn, the old Elsie saying
yes please
and the new saying
hell-to-the-no
.

“I just want to talk,” he said.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

“Okay I can come over?”

“Sure.”

I jumped at the tapping on my door.

“Knock, knock,” he said into my ear.

I shut off the phone and went to answer the door armed with indignation. “How dare you assume—” The words stuck in my throat when my eyes landed on Henry, seeming larger than I remembered, looking more beautiful than he had any right to be in his jeans and leather jacket. His dark hair was longer, curling around his ears and he looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, but he was the same handsome, infuriating guy I'd grown up with.

“Elsie,” he said and scooped me into his arms, momentarily lifting me off my feet as he held me tight. He pressed his face into my neck for a long moment, then, as if remembering what we had become, abruptly let me go. “Sorry about that. Old habits,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

I fought to catch my breath. I was always caught off-guard when Hurricane Henry blew into town. “That's okay,” I said, the skin on my neck still tingling. I hated the fact that, after all this time, my body still reacted to him in that way.

“You smell different,” he said, cocking his head a little.

“I've taken a few showers since you left.”

“I don't believe that for a second.” He grinned at me, his blue eyes filled with something that looked like joy. “You're using a different fragrance. You used to like that citrusy spray from the body and bath store. Now you smell a little pepperminty.”

“Uh, okay,” I said, a little taken aback by his observations. “Are you coming in or are we going to discuss my choice in deodorant as well?”

He walked into the living room and headed straight for my large IKEA bookcase filled with books, movies, and little decorative pieces. He paused at a shelf that held several framed photographs. He picked up one in particular and turned to me with a frown. “You cut me out,” he said, looking at the photograph of Jason and me holding our skis at the foot of a mountain, with my left shoulder—and everything beyond it—trimmed off.

“Do you blame me?” I asked, walking over and taking the frame from his hands and placing it back onto the shelf. “And stop touching my stuff.”

Henry backed away and sat down on the couch. “I come in peace. Honest,” he said, holding his palms up.

I took a deep breath and fought to contain my roiling emotions. It was as if I'd spent the last year rebuilding my life on a stable surface and suddenly Henry was back, flipping everything over.

I stood as far away as possible, folding my arms across my chest. “So what did you want to tell me?”

He ignored my question and looked me over with the sexy sliding look that had always given me a case of the tingles. “Did you go somewhere? You look nice.”

I gritted my teeth. “I was on a date,” I said, hating that he seemed so comfortable while my insides were in upheaval.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, he took me to Chili's.”

A muscle in Henry's jaw twitched but his face gave nothing else away. “Oh?”

“Yeah, he really likes the ribs,” I said, enjoying the fact that I was finally disturbing his calm surface.

His lips formed into a thin line and I almost laughed in triumph. “Have you dated him long?” he asked.

“Three months, give or take,” I said. “Tonight he asked me to move in with him.”

Henry's blue eyes bore into mine as he waited for me to answer his silent question, but I said nothing. I simply enjoyed his discomfort a little while longer. “Well?” he finally said.

I shrugged. “I'm seriously thinking about it.”

He rose to his feet but didn't come closer. “I'm out, Els. I've separated from the Air Force,” he said hurriedly.

All of the mirth whooshed out of me in one breath. “When?”

“When my tour at Osan ended.” He took one step closer. “I'm a free man. I no longer have to deploy. I can live wherever I want.”

“Where are you going to go?” I asked, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

His eyes were mesmerizing, holding me in place as he took a step closer. “I don't know yet.”

“What about a job?”

“I have some money saved up, so I can spend some time looking. But I think I want to be in law enforcement.”

I wasn't surprised to hear his next career choice. “See? You're an honorable guy through and through.”

His lips bent into a rueful grin. “I'm glad you still think so.” Suddenly, he was in front of me, so close all I had to do was lean forward and I would be touching his chest. “Don't move in with him, Elsie,” he said.

My anger came roaring back to life. “You can't tell me what to do,” I said, straightening my spine and pulling away from his gravitational pull.

He rested a hand against my neck. “I'm not telling you,” he said gently. “I'm asking you.”

It took me a moment to find my voice. “It's no longer your place to ask.” I took a step away and tried to clear my head. “Do you want a beer?” I asked, turning away and escaping to the kitchen.

He sighed. “Sure.”

We sat down at my tiny dining table and I asked questions about what he'd done in Korea to avoid talking about what he was currently doing in Oklahoma. Henry, for his part, didn't bring up my moving in with Seth again. Instead he leaned his elbows on the table and talked animatedly about his adventures in Asia as easily as if he were talking to an old friend.

I hoped, as I sat across the table, that the round slab of wood was enough distance to keep me from falling again but the erratic thudding in my chest indicated otherwise. The tree had been old judging from the growth rings on the table's lacquered surface, but its age was nothing compared to my long history with the man sitting across it, a history that was far too ingrained in my identity to ignore.

The conversation came to a natural end around three in the morning. I yawned and stood up, collecting the empty bottles of beer on the table.

“Shit, it's late,” Henry said, stretching his arms above his head. “I'd better get going.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At a buddy's place in Norman. His couch smells like ass but it beats the floor.”

A small part of me wanted to offer him the pullout couch, but I knew that doing so would make me a fool. “Well, it was nice to catch up with you,” I said instead and walked him to the door.

He gave me a tentative little hug at the threshold. “You too.”