In the Likely Event

“Wait. He buried his friend today? You left that out.” Her brow knit. “Which one is Julian?”

The tall blond guy with the smirk came to mind. “I think his last name was Rowell. He was one of the guys he went into Special Forces with. One of his best friends.” I rubbed my hands over my face. “He was so hurt. I hurt him. But how could I accept his proposal when he clearly wasn’t in a clear state of mind? I kept trying to poke holes in his argument to get him to see that he was acting irrationally. The Nate I know would never have proposed like that, and when I said that . . .” My throat started to close, thinking of his face. “He needs a good night’s sleep, or help—not an engagement.”

If he’d asked me, really honestly asked me, I would have thrown myself into his arms and never let go.

“And you think he’s going to race from here to a therapist’s couch?” She gripped my shoulders. “Do you love him?”

“More than my own life.” It didn’t matter what I did; I couldn’t turn the emotion off.

“Then go find him and haul him back here so he can get whatever help he needs. Go, Izzy.”

I nodded and took off, skidding into the hallway in my slippered feet and then through the living room.

“I know you are not running after that man!” Mom shouted.

“I know you’re not acting like you actually know anything about him!” I snapped back. They’d be pissed. Oh well. Life wasn’t worth it without Nate, and if they couldn’t accept that, then they’d never really loved me anyway.

I didn’t bother closing my door as I ran out of my apartment and raced down the steps of my building. “Nate!” I shouted as I threw open the heavy glass door and ran out onto the sidewalk.

There were dozens of people out here.

None of them were Nate.

I shoved my hand into the center pocket of my hoodie and grabbed my phone, then hit Nate’s info on the contact page. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I said as it rang.

He sent me to voice mail. Or his phone was off. But my bets were on the first option.

I climbed the stairs to the entrance of my building for a better vantage point and searched the streets as I tried his phone again. He didn’t pick up.

My chest crumpled like a discarded ball of paper. I’d sent him away when he’d needed me to pull him closer. I’d failed him at the first real test.

Serena joined me, holding an umbrella over my head as we stood there for a half hour, looking at every single person who walked by, my heart refusing to accept what my mind already had.

He was gone.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


IZZY


Kabul, Afghanistan

August 2021

I sat on the couch, watching the coverage from Mazar-i-Sharif in a language I couldn’t understand as Nate’s team buzzed around us.

“You hungry, Izzy?” Sergeant Rose asked. They’d dropped the Ms. Astor title over an hour ago.

I shook my head without looking away from the television. Serena was in there somewhere.

“And these are all processed and need to go back down to the clerk,” Nate told Sergeant Black, handing him a stack of files he’d personally called on in the last hour.

“I don’t even know what they’re saying,” I whispered, holding a throw pillow to my chest.

“Oh.” Sergeant Rose leaned in. “They’re speaking Dari. I’m stronger in Pashto.” He looked over his shoulder. “Green!”

“Nate speaks Pashto,” I whispered, wincing when I realized I hadn’t used Green.

“Yeah, and Dari, and Farsi, and French, and whatever else he’s working on. Guy never slows down.” He glanced my way. “And don’t stress. We all know his real name.”

Nate sat on my left, and I held myself rigid so I wouldn’t lean into him. We hadn’t exactly come to a conclusion in our argument. We’d just . . . stopped.

“What are they saying?” I asked.

“The Taliban took control of the city less than an hour after breaching the front lines at the city limits,” Nate recited. “When that happened, the government forces and the militias fled without a fight.”

Sergeant Rose cursed.

“That leaves only Kabul and Jalalabad under Afghan government control.” Nate looked my way. “You shouldn’t be watching this.”

“Why not? She’s experiencing it. She told me once that ignoring a situation doesn’t make it better for the people living it.” I squeezed the pillow tighter. “She’s living it.”

The door opened, and Sergeant Black walked back in, heading toward the dining area where Sergeant Gray was set up doing whatever the comms guy did.

“I failed,” I whispered.

Sergeant Rose glanced over my head at Nate, then stood and joined the others.

“You didn’t,” Nate assured me. “Serena made her choice. We’re all allowed to make our own choices. You got that girls’ team out.”

I scoffed. “You got that girls’ team out. I did the paperwork.” Defeat settled into my stomach like an anchor. “All I’ve done since I got here was fail to convince Serena to leave and waste your team’s time when you’re clearly needed elsewhere.” I’d also lost a fiancé, but I was counting that in the plus column. I didn’t even care that I’d have to explain it to my parents. There was a reason I hadn’t spoken to them in weeks.

“Newcastle would have been in Kandahar too,” Nate said. “He would have missed Covington’s Hail Mary return flight home too. I would still be in this room.” A smile curved his perfect mouth. “I just wouldn’t have let him sleep with his head in my lap. I have boundaries, you know.”

“Just not with me?”

“Never with you,” he said softly. “I know it doesn’t count for much right now, but I’m sorry for losing my temper earlier.”

I sent a dose of side-eye his way. “You didn’t.”

“I did. You just didn’t know it.”

“Green,” Sergeant Gray called out. “I’ve got something.”

Nate stood, and I went back to staring at the television.

“Izzy,” Nate said a minute later.

I looked over my shoulder and saw him holding up a clunky-looking phone.

“It’s Serena.”

I scrambled off the couch and nearly tripped on the end table to get there. “Serena?” I said into the phone after taking it from Nate.

“I’m on my way, Izzy,” she said. “I don’t know who your man knows, but I’m in a car with this snazzy phone and Taj.”

“You’re okay?” I covered my face and ducked my head as my eyes watered.

“I’m okay. But it’s four hundred miles and a hell of a lot of checkpoints to Kabul. My credentials should get us there, but you can’t wait for me.”

My stomach twisted. “I can’t leave without you.”

“You can and you will. I’ll be on the first plane I can get on, but you have to get out of here. Promise me.”

“I don’t even know if I can get out before you get here, so it might be a moot argument,” I tried, lifting my head to see Nate shaking his head.

“I want to conserve the battery on this thing, so I need to go. But Iz, promise me you’ll go.”

“I promise,” I whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”