by R. S. Kovach
By the time the final notes rang out, Hank’s arm encircled her waist and her head rested against his cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered before letting go.
As the tempo picked up again and others returned to dancing, he led her out onto the back patio. The cool night air carried the scent of evergreens mixed with a distant campfire. He leaned against a railing overlooking the mountain vistas and crossed his arms. “I know I should have been open with you about everything from the beginning, but I thought telling you the whole truth would be even more misleading.”
Standing a few feet away, Ali shook her head. “How is that possible?”
“Yes, I’m in the air force, and yes, I was a pilot, but everything has changed, thanks to a classified technical malfunction over Jordan last year, so that’s not my life anymore.” He turned his back and held on to the rails with both hands. “Being an instructor at the academy—theory is all I can do now, by the way—doesn’t compare to flying actual missions above enemy territory. And no matter how much I want to delude myself with possible cures for my vertigo, I’m probably never going to get a chance to get back into a fighter jet.”
“Do you think I would have liked you any less knowing all that?” She took a few steps forward.
He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. “You’d be surprised at the reactions I get in the uniform versus out of it.”
Ali scoffed. He didn’t have to elaborate; she was getting a firsthand view. After all, who could resist a man in uniform? “Well, your bright idea wasn’t foolproof because I’m still not sure who you are.”
He abruptly turned and held out his right hand, plastering on a fake smile. “Captain Henry Mathis Jr., former squad leader, veteran of two combat tours, and current assistant professor of military history and tactical combat skills. But you can call me Hank.”
Ali moved closer and took his hand, gently squeezing his fingers. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
“It’s not too late to start over.” He raised his other arm and grazed her jaw with his thumb.
She pulled away. “Yes, it is.”
“I’ll accept that if you tell me that you think the last few weeks have been a waste.” He moved closer and gently held her by the elbows. “That you regret ever meeting me. Or better yet, tell me that I don’t make you happy.”
“I can’t,” she quietly admitted. “But it doesn’t matter because we have our own lives. I don’t expect—or even want—you to give up yours for me. And I hope you feel the same way.”
“Of course I do, but there has to be some sort of compromise, right?” He searched her face. “I know it’s not ideal, but we could try the long-distance thing.”
The thought had also previously crossed her mind, but she hadn’t reached such an enthusiastic conclusion. “I don’t know if I could bear seeing you only when one of us can travel across the country for a few days.”
“It’s better than not at all, right?” He stroked Ali’s hair, absentmindedly tucking it behind her ear. “Plus, Liz and Jason manage just fine.”
She took his hand and squeezed before letting go and leaning back onto the railing. “You must have never caught her sobbing in the produce pantry.”
“What?” He closed the space between them again.
“She may be managing, but I bet she’d change things if she had the chance.” Ali was pinned between Hank and the rail. “And you said it yourself; you don’t want to just manage your life. You want to live it. And so do I, but in your eyes, I’ve already failed. If I stay in New York, I’m a coward who’s afraid of taking a chance. But if I accept the job in Seattle, I’m selling out for the sake of career at the cost of happiness.”
“I’m so sorry for saying all that yesterday.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and took a step backward.
“Don’t be.” She advanced on him and reached up for his lapels. Looking into his eyes, she smiled. “You were right about a lot of things, and I needed to hear it. I’ve been scared to move forward because I couldn’t trust myself not to screw up again, but after tonight, I’ve realized that it could be worse.”
“Great.” Hank rolled his eyes, but when she frowned, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. Go on.”
“You mentioned yesterday that at least I have the choice to get on with my life. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so hard on me; that’s why you pushed me to face my fears. You feel like your destiny’s out of your hands, and you resented me for being in denial about having issues when they seemed so insignificant next to yours.”
He shook his head and attempted to look away, but she touched his cheek and turned his face back toward her. “No, it’s fine. I can’t hold it against you because in the end, it helped me see that I need to get back in control. And that’s why I’m going to Seattle on the first available flight out.”
He frowned and gently pushed Ali away. “You’re taking the job after all?”
She looked down at her shoes. She’d just decided, but now that the words had left her lips, she wasn’t so sure. “Probably.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “So, this is it then?”
She shrugged and, in spite of feeling like crying, attempted to smile.
“I suppose I should take you back, then.” Hank offered her his elbow.
“No. Just call me a cab.” Ali wiped an errant teardrop from the corner of her eye. “Your mother would probably have my hide if you left the party early because of me.”
He was undeterred. “My father would have mine if I didn’t.”
His stubbornness was just extending the pain, yet Ali had no energy to argue. They rode back to the lodge in silence, but when Hank stopped the truck in the circular driveway, she had a hard time leaving.
“The uniform suits you.” She glanced at him as she unbuckled her seat belt.
He draped an arm on the steering wheel and produced a weak smile. “It’s a real chick magnet.”
Like a knife to the heart, a twinge of jealousy ran through her at the thought of Hank’s being with someone else. “I bet,” she said, trying to make an attempt at levity, but it turned out sounding bitter instead.
He cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t walk you inside.”
Ali sniffled as the blade twisted further in her chest. “No. Of course not.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. Looking into Hank’s eyes, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.
Fearing opposition, she was ready for it to be a quick good-bye kiss. But in spite of his cool demeanor, Hank also had trouble letting go. His lips smashed into hers, opening up eagerly to allow his tongue to get one final taste. Ali’s head reeled from the conflicting emotions as she dug her fingers into his hair to pull him even closer, but somehow there was still the unmistakable feeling of finality in the act. A finality that she had chosen. A finality that she had wanted—right?
Ali felt sick to her stomach. She pulled away. “Don’t hide who you are,” she blurted out before opening the truck’s door. Jumping to the ground, she prepared to slam it shut.
“Hey, Ali,” Hank called after her. When she looked back up at him, he said, “Don’t try to be someone you’re not.”
It caught her by surprise, and Ali hesitated before closing the door. Backing away, she turned on her heel and ran up the stairs. Not daring to look back, she didn’t slow down until she neared her suite. When she opened her clutch to look for the key, she almost dropped the gift Liz had given her earlier. She’d totally forgotten about it with all the drama. After returning to her room, she pulled off the dainty ribbon and removed the lid. Inside, a necklace just like the one Liz wore stared back at her.
Next to the blue heart and silver jet plane charms, Ali was finally able to read the inscription engraved around the flat ring: My heart belongs to an airman. Squeezing the jewelry in her palm, she finally allowed the tears that had been l
urking inside her for hours to come.
◆ ◆ ◆
By Monday night, Ali was settled into a hotel room overlooking the calm waters of Puget Sound—but it didn’t feel like the countless other business trips she’d made before. For the first time in her adult life, she was lonely. The sensation of leaving a part of herself behind nagged at her, and she truly hated it. Dealing with this newfound vulnerability the only way she knew how, Ali jumped headfirst back into work.
She spent the next two days on the convention floor, checking out vendors and making contacts. The Korean clothing industry was surprisingly well represented, which led to a few good leads she could also pass on to Robert. She owed him as much after blowing off his request for help a week earlier.
Aaron Lassiter had also flown into Seattle to get the ball rolling on setting up the new location, and he’d invited Ali to scout out potential office space. They’d just about finished looking at prime real estate in the heart of the central business district when her cell phone rang. The caller ID indicated “Unknown Number,” but she recognized the Colorado area code. Leaving her boss with the leasing agent to discuss terms, Ali took the call in the privacy of an empty office.
“Hello?” Her voice was hesitant from both her apprehension and her anticipation of who could be on the other end. There were only two people she could think of who would be calling from Colorado, and Liz McGhee wasn’t on top of the list.
“Ali. It’s Hank.” The curt introduction confirmed her suspicion.
Although Ali’s pulse raced at the possible reasons for the call, her mouth only managed to form one word: “Hi.”
“Harriet passed away,” he stated flatly, answering the unasked question.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she put her hand against the floor-to-ceiling glass wall to steady herself. Staring at the skyline, she could just make out the top of the Space Needle in the distance before her vision blurred.
“Ali? Are you there?”
“Um, yes.” She shook off the unexpected news. Wiping the tears from her face, she cleared her throat. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“Of course.” He sounded increasingly genuine, as if an artificial façade of nonchalance was beginning to crack. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”
She sniffled, now wishing it was Liz who’d called. Hearing Hank’s voice and knowing he was so far away made the situation even more unbearable. “Thanks again. If there’s nothing else—”
“Actually, there is if you have a minute,” he interrupted.
Ali closed her eyes and let the warm sunshine streaming through the window wash over her. Nothing could be worse than what she’d just heard. “Sure.”
“Do you remember Harriet’s dog?” There was a slight hesitation to the question.
“Marv?” She opened her eyes. This may have been the last thing she’d expected to hear. “Of course. Why?”
“My niece and nephew have been taking care of him for the last week and a half. We thought Harriet’s family would take the dog eventually, but they don’t want him.” Hank paused and sighed before continuing. “Since Marv liked you the best, I thought I’d ask if you wanted him.”
She frowned. “Don’t Sarah and Colin want to keep him?”
“Of course, but they’re kids,” he scoffed. “Liz already has too much going on without a pet to worry about.”
A flurry of thoughts ran through Ali’s head. She wouldn’t be moving into a new place in Seattle for at least two months and her apartment building in New York had a no-animals policy. She couldn’t let Harriet’s beloved friend end up in a shelter, but maybe she could persuade her parents to house him. Her father still spoke fondly of their beagle that passed years earlier. “Yes. I’ll take him,” she said. One way or another, she’d make it work. “I’ll have my assistant contact a pet travel service—”
“Are you flying back through Denver anytime soon?” Hank chimed in before she could finish.
Her heart was pounding in her throat again. “In a couple of days, why?”
“If you give me your flight details, I’ll arrange to add a pet to your ticket and have Liz drop him off at the airport.” He seemed to have everything already figured out.
“All right.” Her mind buzzed again, but this time, it had nothing to do with the dog. “I’ll text you the info, but can you do something for me?”
“Of course.” Hank didn’t hesitate, and Ali could hear him breathing while he waited for her to speak.
She bit her lip, gathering her courage to say it out loud. “Can you be the one who brings Marv to the airport?”
The silence on the other end seemed to go on forever. “All right,” he finally answered. “See you then.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Ali scanned the departures hall, looking for her airline’s check-in desk. She’d made it off the flight from Seattle in record time and backtracked from the arrivals lounge, but the hard part was only now about to begin. Although she’d asked Hank to personally bring Harriet’s dog, she still wasn’t sure why or what she intended to accomplish with the spontaneous request.
Maybe seeing him again would give her the answer. Or better yet, perhaps he’d tell her himself. After all, he’d believed he knew what she wanted just a few days earlier. She’d foolishly dismissed him then, but now she was at least open to listening. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late.
Her heartbeat was increasing from anticipation, and when a group of travelers wearing matching T-shirts moved out of her way, she finally caught a glimpse of him. Holding a spot in the first-class line, he had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a pet crate by his feet. Ali smiled at the pup’s need for so much baggage. When bittersweet thoughts of Harriet entered her consciousness, she had to fight off the urge to cry and instead quickened her steps.
Hank adjusted the brim of his baseball cap as he watched her push through the crowd. “We were starting to think you stood us up,” he greeted her coolly.
She tightened her grip on the handle of her wheeled carry-on. So much for hope. “My flight was delayed.” When he continued to stare at her silently, she realized the statement’s frivolity. “But you already knew that.”
“No worries,” he replied automatically, glancing past her and noticing an available gate agent. Picking up Marv’s carrier, he nudged Ali’s elbow. “Come on.”
Following along, she rummaged through her purse for her ticket and slid it across the counter. After indicating she was traveling the rest of the way with an on-board pet, she left the woman to tap away at her computer and turned back to Hank.
“I see you took my advice.” She nodded to the air force logo on his hat.
He leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “About being myself?” he whispered, waiting a beat while staring into her eyes. “Sure, but don’t you think it reinforces my living in the past?”
Ali could barely hear the words above the echoes of her own heartbeat in her ears and didn’t notice she’d been holding her breath until he pulled away. Why was he acting this way? Why continue that earlier conversation—nay, argument? Was he punishing her for rejecting him? Or did he just want to make sure that he had the final word? Clearing her throat, she managed a weak, monosyllabic rebuttal: “No.”
He pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “Not even if I’m wearing it as Hank Mathis, the guy who wants to be a pilot again, and not as Hank Mathis, the guy who teaches nineteen-year-olds about Napoléon at Waterloo?” He cocked his head to the side and waited for her reaction.
Ali sighed as the glimmer of hope reemerged. This probably wasn’t about her at all. Hank appeared to be finally searching for answers to questions he had been too scared to ask before. “I don’t understand why you see yourself as a former pilot.” She emphasized the penultimate word.
He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m not allowed by the US m
ilitary to fly?” Noticing the ticketing agent looking up at that statement, he threw up his hands innocently and smiled. “I can be a passenger, I’m just legally no longer licensed to control an aircraft.”
The woman appeared content with the clarification and returned to her keyboard, while Ali resumed the conversation. “So what?” She smirked. “You can’t do it now. That doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen. That’s not living in the past, Hank. When I said that, I didn’t know the full story because you didn’t want me to. Modern medicine can do some amazing things, and I may be overly optimistic, but even a miracle wouldn’t be out of the question.”
He touched her arm, and his demeanor softened. “You mean there’s a chance to fix something that may seem irretrievably broken?”
The move was so unexpected, Ali wasn’t sure if they were still talking about his vertigo. Left speechless, she blinked in confusion until the ticketing agent addressed her.
“Miss Barros, I can’t seem to find a booking for an on-board animal.”
Ali frowned at Hank. “Did you make the reservation?”
He pulled some folded papers out of his back pocket and handed them to the agent. “I did, but it’s probably attached to this.”
The woman took the documents and input the new information. “Oh, I see now. Thank you, Captain Mathis. Would you like to be seated together?”
“Yes, please.” He nodded as Ali tugged at his arm.
“What’s going on?” She wrinkled her brow, looking again at the bag on his shoulder. “Are you coming to New York, too? Is that what all this is about?”
He leaned against the desk and suddenly took a much greater interest in what was happening behind the counter than answering.
“Your boarding passes, sir.” The agent handed over the cards. “The gate is already open so I suggest you make your way over there immediately.”
Hank tried to head directly toward the security-check line, but after stepping away from the counter, Ali forced him to stop. “What are you doing?” She held on to his arm, searching his face for an explanation as a feeling of excitement mixed with nausea formed in her stomach.
