We both remembered that I’d said those words to him the very first time we’d made love, when his eyes had been as wide with innocence, as they were now, with experience.
Too soon the night was over.
It was still dark when the alarm summoned him. Sebastian had left it as late as possible, needing every last minute with me, just as I needed him. I insisted on getting up and showering with him, sliding my hands over his body for one last time.
Then I watched him dress, and my lover became the soldier, pulling on his desert khaki utility uniform. It was the first time I’d seen him in the clothing he’d wear in combat. I wanted to scream and cry and cling to him and beg him not to go. I did none of those things. I pulled him to me, kissed him again and again; told him how much I loved him, again and again.
“Tesoro, go with my love, but take this with you. It’s just silly, but I’ve always carried it with me when I leave home – but now I have your ring to wear.”
I handed him a tiny pebble of polished quartz.
“I found it the first time I went to Long Beach.”
He closed his eyes and kissed my hair.
“I’ve never had something to come back to before, Caro. Don’t worry about me – just take care of yourself.”
He kissed the little pebble and slipped it into his pocket.
“I love you, tesoro. Stay safe for me.”
A car horn sounded in the street below us.
“Time to go, baby. Love you.”
I watched from the window as he flung his duffel bag into the car that waited for him. For a second he stared up at me, smiled, and then he was gone.
Chapter 12
I watched as his car disappeared into the dawn, and the emptiness I felt inside spilled out around me. I lay in Sebastian’s bed, drinking in the scent of sheets that still smelled of him, stretching my hands into the cold void where he had slept, and cried myself into an exhausted stupor.
He had gone: when and where we would meet again was out of our hands. I hoped desperately, of course, that I would see him in Afghanistan, but beyond that, a long six months apart seemed more likely. I tried to tell myself that we’d weathered ten years: what was another few months?
With the sun rising higher in the cool, gray sky, I forced my eyes to open and stare around the empty room. My throat hurt from crying, and the skin on my face felt stiff from salty tears. Tough. Get on with it. Do your job and do it well.
Despite my mental ass-kicking, Sebastian’s small shaving mirror offered a view of red, puffy eyes, lined with dark rings. I was glad he couldn’t see how ghastly I looked. I wondered where he was now. Probably on his way to some military airfield in Germany, before being cooped up in an uncomfortable C5 troop transporter airplane with perhaps as many as 200 other soldiers, for six or seven hours.
Sebastian’s possessions were piled into two boxes, ready for shipping stateside. I opened one, and placed inside the beautiful evening dress and matching shoes, silvery-gray underwear, and miniskirt that he’d bought for me. The leather ballerina flats I left out to take with me.
I laid out the rest of my gear on the bed, checking and re-packing it for departure. I had kept hidden my own set of body armor from Sebastian. We’d both colluded in the illusion that our work was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear – a walk in the park. Hiding evidence of the lie had made it easier.