Love was scary enough. Loving a military man was something else entirely. Because it wasn’t just a matter of did he love me, or could he make me happy? It was did he love me enough to make me giving up everything else worthwhile? Could he make me happy enough to make it worth me giving up a career that fulfilled me? It was a lot of pressure to put on anyone, especially on a new relationship, and it seemed like the questions I needed answers to were the ones that required a giant leap of faith.
Why did adulting have to be so freaking hard?
I grabbed my cell, ignoring Lulu’s soft growl of protest when I stopped scratching her. I needed to hear Noah’s voice to erase the sound of my mother saying things like, What are you doing with your life?
It was still kind of early in Oklahoma, and considering how late Noah usually worked, I figured the odds of reaching him were iffy, but I didn’t care.
When he answered, I felt the first surge of relief.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be still at work.”
“I cut out a little early. I needed to come home and deal with some stuff.”
His voice sounded funny again.
“Are you okay? Did you have a bad day at work?”
Silence.
“Noah?”
A sinking feeling spread through my stomach. Something wasn’t right.
“Are you okay?” I asked again, worry filling my voice.
“We need to talk.”
Those four words knocked the wind right out of me. This was it. Maybe I should have realized sooner that if it sounded too good to be true, it probably was. Hell, fifteen years of dating had taught me that if nothing else. Chupacabra, my ass.
My voice got tight.
“What’s up?”
Did he meet someone else? Was he tired of long distance? Was he just not into me anymore? What the ever-loving fuck?
“I’m PCS-ing to Korea.”
That was one I hadn’t heard before.
“PCS-ing?” I squeaked the word out, my mind racing, everything off.
Noah cursed. “Moving. It’s my next assignment.”
I couldn’t.
“For how long?” My voice sounded like it was far away, like part of me was drowning.
“Two years.”
I was going to be sick.
“I don’t understand. You told me you weren’t going to move for another year.”
“I wasn’t supposed to. But they need guys to go to Korea and it’s not necessarily a popular assignment right now. Especially for guys with families. So they’ve started nonvolling guys, which basically means in my case, that because I’ve been in Oklahoma for two years, they’re able to move me to Korea even though I wasn’t in the cycle to move and I didn’t volunteer for the assignment.”
I couldn’t get my bearings, couldn’t even come up with anything to say in response. It all just sounded so bizarre. I mean, yeah, I’d accepted that he lived in a world that was unlike any I’d ever known, and one I’d probably never understand, but this was just so unexpected, so fucked up. I couldn’t process it. It felt like he was delivering this news to someone else. I heard the words, but I couldn’t wrap my head around how they related to me.
“When?”
How much longer did I have with him?
He was silent for another beat, which I’d already figured out was his precursor for bad news.
“At the end of July.”
My stomach sank.
“That’s in three months.”
More silence.
Another thought occurred to me. “You’re going to Alaska for a month and a half.”
“Yeah.”
His voice sounded as bad as I felt.
“I—”
I struggled to calm down, to organize my thoughts, struggled to get my shit together.
“I don’t know what to do with this.”
“I know.”
Maybe it was a good thing for him. Maybe it was good for his career. I should have been happy for him. Shouldn’t have been as freaked out as I was. But we’d just said, I love you. We’d gotten to the point where this no longer felt like a casual fling, or a relationship in that awkward phase of where-do-we-stand, and instead felt like something. Something that was us trying to build a life together. And now he was leaving.
And it felt like my heart was breaking. And, oh God, I was going to start crying.
“Listen, I, uh, need to go, but I’ll call you later, okay?” I pushed the words out, my voice cracking, heart hammering.
“Jordan.”
God, this sucked. So freaking much. Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with a dentist? Someone with a nice, normal job. My mother was right. I was a romantic shitshow.
“Jordan,” he repeated.
“I can’t talk about this,” I whispered, the first tear trickling down my face. I didn’t want to put my own shit on him. Didn’t want him to hear me completely fall apart. And I was like a minute away from completely losing it.
“We need to talk about it.”
I wiped the tear off my cheek. “I’m not sure what there is to talk about.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “Us.”
“What us?”
He was silent again. When he finally did speak, his words brought more tears.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
God.
I closed my eyes, unable to stave off the onslaught of tears any longer.
“I don’t want to lose you, either.”
He groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you crying.”
I sniffled, the sound nothing like the cute, birdlike sniffles you heard when girls cried on TV or in movies. I was an ugly crier in the extreme.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make this worse.” I wiped at my face again. “I just wasn’t prepared for this.”
“I know. I wasn’t, either.”
I closed my eyes. “Is this good for you? Professionally, I mean? Are you excited about it?”
I remembered that he’d been stationed in Korea before. Maybe this wasn’t as weird for him as it was for me. He was probably used to the moving and everything that came with it.
“A year ago, it would have been fine. Now . . .” He sighed. “I love you.”
That was the part that made it even worse. I could see myself being with him. Really being with him. If you stripped away the military stuff, I had no doubt that I would want to marry him. That he would be it for me. Even with the military stuff . . .
“I need to know what this means for us,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion.
“I—”
I didn’t know what it could mean for us. Long distance was hard, but doable, when we were a somewhat short plane ride away. But flying to Korea? Maybe we could do it a couple times, but nowhere near as often as we saw each other now, and even that didn’t feel like enough.
How did you make a relationship work if you never saw each other?
“I don’t know,” I answered.
“Okay.”
The sadness in his voice pulled at my heart.
“Do you want to break up?”
And that pierced me.
“No.” I didn’t even have to think about it, the word just escaped, partly in a panic. I had no idea how this would play out between us, but I did know that I wasn’t ready to give up on us.
“Do you want to break up?” I asked, fear clogging my throat.
“No.”
“So what then?”
“I don’t know. I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s two years. I’ll get maybe a month off each year. It sucks, I know. But I promise I’ll come see you every chance I get. And maybe you could come out there for a few visits.”
It wasn’t much, but I knew he was trying. Seeing each
other a little bit was at least better than not seeing each other at all.
So why did I feel like crying? Why did I feel like the writing was already on the wall?
“I’m so sorry.”
I knew he was. I could hear it in his voice. But it didn’t make it easier, or better. And it wouldn’t make up for the fact that I felt like I was in a relationship, but not really in a relationship. Like we were playing at being a couple without the intimacy I craved. I’d been single most of my life. I wanted someone to spend holidays and special events with. As corny as it sounded, I wanted someone to make memories with. To come home to after a long day. And now Noah would be even farther away and I wondered at what point the phone calls would cease to be enough. For both of us. Hell, we had a tough enough time talking now—what would it be like with the time difference?
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I couldn’t lie.
“I don’t know how we can make this work.”
He sighed. “Me, either.”
“I just keep wondering if it should be this hard.”
“I know. I’m worried that I’m asking too much. That you aren’t going to be happy if we’re always apart, if I can’t ever be there when you need me.” His voice was strained. “I’m worried you’re going to meet a guy who can give you all the things that I can’t. And part of me wants you to meet that guy. You deserve to meet him.” He groaned. “And part of me hates the idea of you with someone else and is terrified to lose you.”
I knew exactly how he felt.
“Maybe we just give this a shot and see where we end up. Take it one day at a time,” I suggested. “Neither one of us was expecting to be here now. Maybe we just need to come to terms with this a bit more before we make any drastic decisions.”
“Okay. That sounds like a good plan.” He paused. “Are you still coming out here before we go to Alaska?”
“Yeah.”
He was quiet for a long beat. “I miss you. And I love you.”
He’d never felt farther away than he did now.
“I love you, too.”
I didn’t tell him I missed him, couldn’t put words to the ache inside me. We hung up the phone and I cried myself to sleep.
TWENTY
NOAH
I went through the motions of preparing for the squadron’s TDY to Alaska and trying to get my orders for my PCS to Korea, the whole time my mind on Jordan rather than the mission. I’d never really cared all that much where the Air Force sent me. As long as I remained in the cockpit, flying the Viper, the rest was just window dressing. But I cared now. A lot. And I was fucking pissed that out of all my assignments, this was the one when I got nonvolled to Korea.
I drove onto the base, pulling into the squadron parking lot, my hand linked with Jordan’s, the sound of music the only noise in the car. She’d decided to come out and visit before I left for Alaska, and then we’d had some of the tankers who were supposed to refuel us midair fall out due to scheduling conflicts, and our dates had gotten moved up. So basically, Jordan had arrived in time to see me off, and the days we’d planned to spend together had fallen away.
She hadn’t said much when she’d landed and I’d broken the news to her, so I couldn’t figure out what she was feeling, although pissed seemed likely. I figured she’d add it to her tally of things I’d done to disappoint her. Hell, I’d break up with me at this point.
I’d spent the past two weeks going over everything in my mind, trying to figure out how to make our relationship work. We still talked, but I felt like she was pulling away from me, like the stress of things was an albatross weighing us down. Or maybe it was just my own paranoia, my own fear that overshadowed everything else. The more I thought about it, worried about it, the more I realized that I loved her. I didn’t want to lose her. I couldn’t lose her.
I put the car in Park, my limbs reluctant to get out and leave her once again.
And then the idea that had been rolling around my mind for two weeks now came out of my mouth.
JORDAN
“What if we got married?” Noah asked, his voice, and the question, jerking me out of my mental freak-out.
I froze, my hand suspended over the car radio knob itching to change the channel, the word “married” sending my world to a crashing stop. I blinked, wondering if I was dreaming, if this was really happening. As far as proposals went, it wasn’t exactly romantic and it had the same feel as, Do you want pizza or burgers for dinner?
I wasn’t sure if I was pissed, or excited, or just plain shocked. Or some combination of all three.
“Jordan?”
I blinked again, waiting for him to tell me he was just kidding or to take it back.
He didn’t.
Noah stared at me, his gaze unblinking, strangely serious.
Was I supposed to treat that like a proposal? Had he lost his mind?
We were sitting in the squadron parking lot, he was getting ready to leave for Alaska, hip-hop music playing in the background, it was ten in the morning, and I’d thought we’d decided not to make any drastic decisions. There was nothing romantic about this.
“Are you joking?”
“It was a stupid idea,” he muttered, turning the car off with a flick of his wrist. He unbuckled his seat belt.
“Wait.”
“What?”
God, I needed a minute. I hadn’t been prepared for this, didn’t know how I was supposed to handle a question like that. Was it even a question? Or was he just throwing ideas out there? And why did he seem pissed now?
“Are you serious?”
He let out an oath. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” His mouth set in a grim line. “I don’t know what we’re doing here. Every time I have to say good-bye to you, it feels like I’m being sliced in half.” His expression darkened. “Loving you fucking hurts.”
I closed my eyes, the pain in his voice piercing me. He wasn’t wrong. I just didn’t know what the answer was. I wasn’t going to marry him on a whim, on some half-assed attempt to bring us together when circumstances threatened to pull us apart. But if he was serious?
I reached out, grabbing his hand, linking my fingers with his, holding on, afraid that the effort of us was eventually going to be too much, that he’d meet an easier girl who would jump at the chance to spend her life with him, who would view all of this as an adventure rather than the sacrifice I feared.
“I love you,” I answered, trying to give him as much as I could.
“I know.”
He didn’t say the rest, but it lingered between us . . . but is it enough?
And I didn’t know. I didn’t want to throw away my chance at happiness, and at the same time, I was scared to reach out and take it. Afraid of the sacrifice it required.
“What would happen if we got married?” I asked, trying to picture it, struggling to figure out a way to make him fit in my life.
“You could come to Korea with me.”
That sentence both thrilled and terrified me.
“You would be a dependent. You’d have healthcare and access to the military facilities. We could get an apartment on base and live together.”
“You’re asking me to move to Korea?” I sputtered.
He sighed. “I don’t know. If you wanted to, I guess.”
“What would I do for work? I don’t speak Korean. What would I do all day?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what I wanted. It was fast. Everything about this was fast. And it was too much. I loved him. So much. But why did love mean I had to give up everything? Why did love require this giant fucking leap?
And even though I knew I shouldn’t even entertain the thought, a part of me resented that he didn’t have to make any sacrifices in this scenario. I knew it wasn’t
his fault or even his choice anymore, but still it bothered me.
It wasn’t just going to a foreign country, or how far away I’d be from my friends and family, or even not speaking the language—it felt like I was putting my life on hold. What would happen to the store if I just took off to Korea for two years? On the one hand, it was just a store. On the other, it was years of hard work and sacrifice. It was everything I’d wanted it to be. Business was better than ever and the idea of abandoning all of that was ridiculous. Especially to a giant unknown. Not to mention how much I’d miss my family. My friends. My dog. Could I take Lulu to Korea?
It was way too much. Like it wasn’t enough that he was getting ready to leave for six weeks; now he was dumping this on me, too.
And just like that I went from confused to more than a little pissed off with Noah.
“Do you even want to marry me?” I asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I could feel my temper building, the explosion lurking just beneath the surface.
“That’s your proposal? You just throw out there the mention that, hey, maybe we could get married? We’ve never talked about it, you’re about to leave for Alaska, and now you think it’s a good idea to dump more on me?”
His gaze narrowed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize the idea of marrying me would be so stressful for you.”
“We’ve never talked about it,” I shouted. “You just told me you loved me weeks ago. I’m not even a little prepared for this.”
“And I am?”
“You’re the one who mentioned it,” I snapped.
“Because I’m trying to figure this out, too. I’m just as confused as you are. I’m trying to figure out a way to make this work.”
“And I’m not?” Was he joking? “You do realize, that for you, getting married isn’t that big of a change. But for me, it isn’t just adding a husband and making a commitment to spend the rest of my life with someone. It’s also moving to another country, away from everything I know and love. It’s giving up the business I’ve worked my ass off to build. Would you give up flying for me?”
Fly With Me Page 18
