What If

“I have my reasons.” I raised an eyebrow at her snarly tone. The way those four words hissed from her lips told me she wasn’t going to make this reunion     between the two of us an easy one. I also knew that if I didn’t relax a little I was going to lose my cool.

I let go of her hair and asked again. “Do you want to go talk or just stand here glaring at me all night?”

“Fine,” she muttered. “But only because I feel like everyone is watching us. And if you have something you need to say, I wish you’d just get it over with. So come on,” she turned toward the doors.

I took a chance and put a hand to her lower back, my thumb grazing the skin that was bare from the triangle cut-out. Her back tensed and chills broke out underneath my hand. I waited for her to snap at me and demand for me to take away my hand. When she didn’t, I lead her to the door and then outside. The night was frigid, but Miller had a bonfire big enough to warm fifty people. Most people were inside, which meant we had privacy. I walked us towards a bench made out of what was once an extremely thick tree trunk.

“This is weird isn’t it?” She sat down next to me, without touching.

“What, the party?” I knew exactly what she was talking about, but the only way to get her talking was to ask her questions.

“No, not the party. You know what I meant.” She smiled up at me; it was a soft smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. But it was still real. “The fact that you are at this party.” Between her snappy remark inside and the confused, sad look on her face now, I didn’t know what to except from the conversation. Would she bite my head of? Or continue looking at me with bewildered eyes? Lowering my eyes to the small hands resting in her lap, I noticed the lack of a ring on a very important finger. Relief made my shoulders relax and a light exhale to release from my lungs.

The flames from the fire reflected in her eyes. The blazes lifted higher and higher then sizzled back down. She continued staring off at the wood burning in front of us, while I didn’t dare take my gaze away from her.

“So, Briar Kelly, fill me in on your life.” I tried to play it cool, acting like we had an old friendship that didn’t end with her shattering me.

“It’s not Briar Kelly anymore,” she said, causing my stomach to drop straight to the ground. “It’s Briar Adams.”

“Adams? As in Killian Adams?” I asked. I never imagined she would actually end up marrying that guy.

“Yup.” She sighed and looked down, twisting her fingers in her lap. At least she still had the same nervous habits.

“How’s that going?” She moved slightly to her right and then twisted so that she could face me easily.

“Why do you care?” Her eyes looked black as tar in the dim lighting coming from the fire.

“I’m just trying to have a simple conversation with you,” I said with irritation. I ran a hand over my buzzed head, feeling the small pricks from the fresh cut. Maybe Briar was a different woman now. This Briar seemed taut and ready for a fight with each word I said to her.

“Maybe simple conversation isn’t possible between us, Arrow. Did you even think of that? Maybe I don’t want to sit here and talk about my personal business with you.” She covered her face, hiding her eyes with the palms of her hands. She cursed into her fingers as her hands moved down to cover her mouth.

“Would you rather me jump to all of our bullshit? Or start with common questions about your life like how’s your damn husband?” I nearly shouted the words.

“Fine. God, fine. Are we really doing this?” She looked at me, clearly hoping I’d end our exchange, but I had no plan of doing that. She huffed out air.

“Our divorce was just finalized a few months ago.” She blinked back a few tears, small frown lines creased in her cheeks.

That I didn’t expect. No wonder she didn’t want to talk about her relationship with me. I felt like a complete dick.

“I’m sorry, Briar. That’s rough. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She laughed humorlessly.

“Come on, you’ve got to tell me something,” I pushed. She used to tell me everything. Seeing her broken up over the loss of her husband and the fire in her eyes towards me was doing a number on my nerves. I hated the fact that I was so absent from her life that I, for one, never knew she even got married and, two, didn’t know she was going through a divorce.

The sadness in her eyes seeped out quicker than a flame would go out when doused with water. She became livid in a blink of an eye.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, Arrow. We haven’t spoken in years. Years.” She enunciated that one word, twice. I winced, but before I could speak she continued, “You don’t have any right to demand any sort of knowledge about my life. You gave up your right to know anything when you dismissed me from your life.”

“Dismissed you? You dropped me like a bad fucking habit!” My voice rose. Running a hand down my face, letting out the worked up stress, I got a hold of my emotions… for the most part. “It’s a two way street. Yeah, I didn’t call you; I didn’t contact you. But where were you Briar? Where were you instead of being at my graduation? What happened to writing me every day?” All the questions I wanted to know for years I laid out right in front of her.

“This was a bad idea.” She stood, fixing her dress, and started away from me.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we stop running away from each other? Don’t you think it’s time we got some answers?” I rose and started towards her.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Her hair bounced when she quirked her head to the side.

“You know, you’re a pretty amazing sight to behold,” I said my thoughts as they came to me. “That dark hair is something.”

Her hand went to her hair and tucked the bangs behind her ear. She was trying to hide a shy smile but I saw it. I saw it. She was beyond livid with me, but that little smile was the Briar I remembered, hidden beneath a whole lot of anger.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’re still alive; if we’re alive that means it’s not too late for anything.” I nearly died more than once in the span of two and half years. If I learned anything from my near death experiences, it was that I had to grab life by the throat and demand what I wanted. I could sit around and wait for life to happen to me, or I could happen to life. I was still living with my demons; most of the time it was still hard to breathe through the memories that haunted my waking and sleeping hours, but I wasn’t going to give up. It didn’t matter that most nights I woke up in a cold sweat from my haunted dreams. I survived.

She studied my features. “You’d know that better than most, wouldn’t you?” she said sadly. I don’t know how she found out, but I could see it in the way her eyes glistened and the pure concern that coated them. She knew about Afghanistan. “Yeah, Arrow, I think you’re right. It’s time we finally spoke.” She relented. “But I have one condition.” She held up her pointer finger.

“And what’s the condition?” I said curiously.

“We don’t talk about boot camp. I’m not ready to go down that road tonight.” Her eyes pleaded with me. Understanding that look of horror in her eyes at the mere thought of speaking of that time in our lives left my throat feeling thickly coated, making it difficult to swallow. One day I would get those answers from her: why she stopped writing me, why she didn’t come to my graduation. But tonight wouldn’t be the night.