I get that agony. I’m living it now because I decided on you.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t looked your way when you smiled at me. Sometimes I think it would be better if I were out here with a clear heart and nothing to lose. But, the sweet agony, the burn of missing you, needing you, it feels phenomenal. And I get it. And I’m swimming in it because I know without a doubt, what we have is as real as what the sad bastard next to me has.
I miss your laugh, your face, the feel of your skin, the little moan you give when our lips connect. I miss your shitty jokes and giving you the answers to your mid-term prep questions. I miss the feel of your breasts on my back and waking up to fight you for bedsheets.
There are so many things that a soldier looks forward to, a hot shower, a decent meal, a good night’s sleep, Chapstick, and a day without a bullet whizzing past their head. But even in a third-world country, where these things really matter, when a man has the comfort of a woman’s eyes to concentrate on, the soft feel of her lips and fingers, it’s like a lightning strike of ache that can’t be ignored. I took you for granted even before I left your side. I didn’t stare long enough, I didn’t kiss you long enough, I didn’t tell you how much that smile mattered. Because it mattered. It’s why I chose you.
For the first time in my life, I’m that sad bastard.
It fucking hurts, but in the way that lets me know coming home will be the end of it.
Please send Chapstick.
I love you.
Ian
“Koti?” Ian’s voice sounded as he burst through the door with a barking Disco. I set the letter down exactly as I found it and was at the frame of the door as he walked past it. He stopped abruptly and backed up slowly. His eyes landed on mine before they drifted to the letter on the bed behind me.
I lifted the shampoo bottle. “I was out, so I grabbed some from your bathroom.”
Ian searched my eyes which I was sure were filled with guilt and his jaw ticked to confirm as much. He took a step back and let me through and Disco took the liberty of barking at my feet, doing her master’s bidding. In the safety of my bedroom, I shut the door, my heart pounding and raced to my bathroom and shut the door leaving two closed between us and still I didn’t feel safe. I paced while the hot water ran, in a fit of self-loathing for invading his privacy, before I stepped in and let my skin burn beneath the hot stream.
Something inside me mourned the loss of his relationship while the other part of me longed for the same sentiment. Even more disturbing was that I would want that sentiment from him. I was jealous of his ex-wife and had absolutely no reason to be. And since I’d read the letter, I was more curious than ever about the reason behind his sudden presence in St. Thomas. With the stunt I’d just pulled, I was positive I’d distanced myself further from any answers.
It was wrong, so wrong. And he didn’t deserve my prying eyes. He said he hadn’t felt anything about his wife for years, but if that were true, why would he have an open love letter on his bed?
I shampooed my hair and let the water run as I tried to build up the confidence to leave my bedroom. If he was angry, he had every right to be.
I lathered on some tangerine lotion and threw on shorts and a cami. I half expected him not to be there when I emerged from the bedroom and walked down the hall. He was standing in the kitchen staring at the foil on the counter.
“Did you read it?”
Straight to the point. I should have been prepared for it, but I wasn’t. I swallowed hard and took a step closer. “I’m so sorry. I had no right, I was really just getting the shampoo. Jesus, I’m sorry.”
Gray eyes scoured me. “What did you think?”
“Think?”
I was equally unprepared for that question. “I think…” I frowned as he turned and pressed the broil button on the oven. I spoke up. “I can do that.”
“Answer the question.”
I exhaled unsure if I was ready for the wrath that would follow any answer I gave. “I think you were in love.”
“I was a twenty-two-year-old soldier who could have died any minute. Do you think that was real love?”
I bit my lip and took a step forward. “I don’t know. But the man who wrote that seemed sure of it with his words.”
“Words mean nothing.” Ian whistled, and Disco came running with one of my flip-flops in her mouth. Ian released it and set it on the counter.
“You don’t really believe that. You can’t possibly mean that.”
His face was impassive. “I’m leaving in the morning. She’ll need to stay with you.”
“Ian—”
“Enjoy your dinner.”
Four hours later, the fish sat untouched in the pan on my stove. From my hammock on the porch, I watched the dark waves roll in and leave their foam. I searched the beach every few minutes for any sign of him. His things were still in my house and though it was wrong, I was dying to see if there were any more letters in his room. But I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the fact he was leaving and when he did, we would be on bad terms, or no terms. It was much later when I heard the creak of the porch steps and broke from my sleep. I stood as he paused on the bottom step.
“Please don’t leave angry with me.”
He exhaled and looked up at me, I could see him fight the scold on the tip of his tongue before he swallowed it.
“I’m truly sorry. I regret it. I crossed the line and violated the only thing you asked for.” I stood shivering in the air, but it was the emotion that was winning. “Please don’t leave angry with me.”
“Koti, what do you want from me?”
I want you to be happy. I want you not to hate me.
“I want you to say when you come back someday we will still be friends.”
He pressed his lips together and took another step up the porch gripping the railing. “Friday, okay?”
“What?”
“I’m going to see my daughter, I didn’t say I was leaving for good.”
“Oh,” I felt my cheeks flame.
I pushed my unruly hair away from my lips and looked at the blanket I left on the hammock before his eyes implored mine.
“You were out here the whole time?”
“No.” Yes.
Some sort of understanding crossed his features as his eyes slowly raked over me, leaving nothing untouched. A breath passed between us and turned into two and then three until the static between us became too much to handle. I opened my mouth to speak but found myself weak with want. Ian beat me to the punch.
“I’m sorry.”
I took a step back as he caged me on my porch. “For what?”
“For what I’m about to do to you.”
In an instant his lips were covering mine, my small moan of surprise was cut short by his tongue. All too easily, I wrapped around him as he opened the door behind us carrying me in. I moaned as his lips found my neck and I clawed at his shoulders through his T-shirt.
“Are you on birth control?” His voice was pure sex.
“Yes,” I hissed as his fingers dug into my waist when he slammed me into the wall of my hallway and ground his thick cock into my center.
“Damn,” I whispered as his lips and tongue covered every inch of available skin. He ripped at the strap of my cami as if it was a nuisance to get to my nipple and once it was free, he covered it with his lips and tongue. I was dripping wet and could already feel the accelerating pulse between my thighs.
“I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for a month,” he murmured into my neck. “If you don’t want this, say it now.”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I rasped out before his lips again claimed mine. Our tongues dueled, ravenous and coaxing until he let my legs down and pinned me to the wall by my wrists, his breaths coming out heavy as he pressed his forehead to mine in an attempt at restraint. I wasn’t having it.