Aarabelle
I’ve been back on American soil for three months. We did all that we could while floating in the Indian Ocean. After the disaster that now gleams as a heroic medal which rides on my chest, hostages were rescued and the crime ring was disassembled for the moment. I had to sit out of the actual hostage rescue days after the onboarding attack. My ankle ended up being a complex fracture that needed surgery. The orthopedic surgeon wasn’t sure how I was able to stand on it at all. I blame adrenaline. And pure grit, let’s be honest. I decided I’d rather die than let the statistics wage war against my gender. I knew I needed to handle myself like a man would in the same situation. The second I knew the threat was gone, it felt like my whole leg was on fire.
I’ve been staying with Marissa while recovering from the surgery. With my condo burnt to a crisp along with almost all of my belongings, it’s not like I had anywhere else to go. She nursed me back to health with my parents visiting frequently. The first time mom came she brought my suitcase from Hart’s house with her. I didn’t even ask how she got it, because my new life’s goal is to not think of him as anything but a colleague. I placed him in the box he should have stayed in this whole time—the hot guy friend zone. The hardest part is simple. Loving him desperately, endlessly, without ever being with him again.
I keep the black ring in my pocket every day. Marissa says it’s detrimental to my goal, but to me, it represents something bigger. It represents a life possible, if I hadn’t made my own legacy. It could have been mine. The happy marriage with a husband, kids, the whole thing. To me, that’s something. The ring represents sacrifices I happily make for my country.
“It’s a fucking Cartier ring, Aara. You really need to give it back. It’s time,” Marissa says, barging into my room with my water bottle. She trips over a twenty-five-pound dumbbell and curses under her breath. “Would you clean up in here? You’re mobile now, no need to live like a…man.”
I’m twirling the ring in my hand sitting in the middle of my yoga mat. I look at the ring and back to her. Marissa looked up the price the first time she saw it, and this has been the conversation since then. “He doesn’t want it back,” I deadpan. I know him.
“That’s not the point.” I take the bottle from her and swallow down a ton of water. “The point is you have no intention of wearing his ring, ever, so it’s bad form to keep it.”
It’s hard to explain to people who don’t understand, so I don’t even try anymore. “You’re right.” I mean, maybe she’s right. Dagger told Marissa that Luke isn’t dating, and I couldn’t figure out why. Months have passed and I’ve excluded him from my life completely. Maybe if I brought him back the ring, there would be closure. “I want to do it in person though. Which will complicate me not thinking about him, but maybe it will help him move on.” I set it on the mat next to me.
Marissa throws a hand on her hip. I pretend to be really into my stretching, sitting with my legs straight in front of me, I lean over to grab my toes, hiding my face. “I can give it to Dagger.” Of course, she has a perfectly acceptable alternative. I’ve only been into work once since I got home. Dad drove me there for the Medal of Honor ceremony. I didn’t see Luke there, but it was because he was doing his best to hide. Dagger told Marissa he was there. I haven’t even seen his face since they airlifted me off our boat to go to the closest military hospital.
“Like you said, I’m mobile now. I need to do this on my own.” I eye the ring next to my thigh and exhale deeply. “I was planning on going out today to look for a new condo. I’ll bring it to him.”
Marissa sighs. “Do you want me to come with you? I can drive.”
I shake my head. “You’ve done enough. If you want to do something for me today, my laundry is full.” I peek up at her and she’s grinning and scowling.
“You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know.” Swallowing hard, I pop up and grab the ring and slide it into the back pocket of my running shorts. There’s a full-length mirror hanging on the wall and I catch my reflection. No need to change, I surmise. This is me. The physical therapy has been brutal, but I’ve kept all of my upper body strength with a pull-up bar Marissa let me hang in the hallway. Dad helped me put together a workout I could do at home with equipment he procured for me.
“What time will you be back?” Worry creases her forehead.
Standing in front of her, I set my hands on her shoulders. “No need to worry about me. I’m fine. Look at me. A little funky in the headspace, but I’ve been cleared to go back to work. Stop worrying. Worry about the date with your monster boyfriend tonight. I still can’t believe he’s taking you on a proper date. Like one where you wear clothes and act proper.”
She shrugs. “Can’t have sex the full twenty-four hours in a day.”
“Brag about it, why don’t you,” I counter.
“Why don’t you go on a date with someone, Aarabelle. Like a normal guy. Or not even a date, maybe you just play catch the kitty with a guy?”
“Ew, Marissa.” I release her shoulders. “That was the grossest thing you’ve ever said.” Grabbing my purse, I dig out my keys and she walks me to the door. There’s a little kink in my bad ankle, so I roll it before laying a hand on the front door. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me in any capacity. Hear me?”
She nods. “I might mix your whites and your colors.”
“You’re so feisty today. I like it,” I say.
She hugs me and shuts the door on my face. Always a goodbye before things get too emotional. We’re not those type of women, and for that I’m grateful. There’s never anything heavy unless it’s unavoidable. I think about what I’m going to say to Luke when I get to his house. It’s Sunday. His holy day. It’s late enough in the day that his family should be gone. If they’re not, that’s okay, too. This won’t take long. My fingers tap along to the beat of some mindless song on the radio as I pull up to the tall iron gates. Once my refuge, they’re now my enemy—representing sand that slipped through my hands.
Jonas is at the security box window as I pull up. His bushy brows furrow as he looks at my license plate and then sees me.
I lift up a hand in a little wave. “Hey Jonas.” My voice cracks as I say his name and roll to a stop. I think about all of the things he witnessed, but has to pretend he didn’t. A dutiful guard. Just like Hart always said. “Does he have company? I need to drop something off if he’s home.”
“Hold on a second,” he says, tone robotic. He slides the window closed and pops back out a second later. “There were big changes recently, so I wanted to make sure we’re clear. Your name is on thealwayslist, so let me open the gate for you, Ms. Dempsey.”
A knot forms in my throat. The always list. All of a sudden, I’m not sure I’m prepared to be on his always list. “Thank you.”
The heavy gate creaks as it opens. Jonas wishes me well, and I roll into the expanse of Luke’s property. I go slowly, because now I need more time. What if he uses his dimples? What if he tells me he loves me? Asks me to marry him again? Says all the right things like he’s so excellent at? I can’t resist. I correct myself. Old Aara couldn’t resist. Now I have to. The fledgling relationship made so many waves at the Teams that Lt. Williams basically forbade it from happening again. Not that it was surprising, because there was a loophole. If two SEALs are married, the relationship is acceptable. That doesn’t cancel the fact that he has a pregnant ex. The truth was, I couldn’t reconcile my Luke with the one he was before me. I can’t compete with his child’s mother, nor would I want to.
My thoughts turn to dust, as I see the yellow Lambo idling in front of the side garages. He must have just gotten home. I cut my lights. It’s a good thing the driveway is long. From my position in the circular driveway, there’s no way he can see me unless he decides to enter through the front door. He exits the car and walks around to the passenger side to open the door. If minutes ago I was thinking of the best of Luke Hart, what I’m seeing now is the absolute worst. Aurora Ball steps out of his car and teeters around, her arm linked with his as they walk into the garage bay. I lose my breath and fail to catch it before the tears sneak out of the corner of my eyes and roll down my face.
How could he do this? Anyone but her. Anyone. I was wrong to come here. Hart never needed closure. That was some pretend scenario I made up in my mind to placate myself. To keep my subconscious from replicating what’s happening in front of me right now. I lean my head against the steering wheel and let out a sob. I should leave the ring by his front door, but I can’t chance coming face to face with them. I’ll never recover from it. Instead, I pull around and leave. I try my best to smile at Jonas as he opens the gate, but it’s a half-assed attempt at best. His face looks more weary and worried than usual as I pull away and into traffic.
