by Nella Tyler
Once I was done with the drills, I started running around the field. Running was good, too. My mind couldn’t avoid the connection with Lauren, no matter how hard I tried, but the truth was that I could stand it when I was running. Sometimes I could almost imagine her next to me, my eternal partner who was just a shadow that disappeared every time I looked around, hoping to catch her.
She haunted me in daylight and in my dreams. I had come to the slow and concrete realization that I had made a terrible mistake. I had been a fool to walk away from her without leaving her with a real promise. I should have told her to come with me; I should have begged her to stay. I had been a fool, so blinded by grief that I had failed to see I was chasing something at the cost of something more important. Mom had tried to tell me, but I had refused to listen.
When my legs could no longer move, I walked down to the shower rooms and had a steaming hot bath that managed to burn away the sweat dried on my skin. When I emerged, clean and fresh, I walked to my empty bunker and lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling with my head full of images of Lauren.
Once the silence started hurting my ears, I picked up my phone and dialed my mother’s number. She answered on the second ring and her voice was expectant. “Chase?”
“Hi, Mom,” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, darling,” she replied. “How are you?”
“Doing okay,” I said. “My training is going well. I’m top of my class at the moment.”
“Really?” she replied sounding duly impressed. “Braden was top of his class, too.”
“I know,” I nodded. “I had big shoes to fill.”
“You don’t have to worry about filling Braden’s shoes,” she said sternly. “Do the best you can; that’s all anyone can ask for.”
I laughed. “That’s what you used to say before I sat any exam in high school.”
“Well, the sentiment applies here.”
“I suppose it does,” I replied. “How’s Dad?”
“You know your father,” she replied. “He keeps busy. He’ll be sorry he missed your call; he went out for some spare parts for the car.”
“Some more?” I asked. “I thought he finished that car ages ago.”
“He needs a project,” Mom replied affectionately. “After you left for boot camp, he needed something to distract himself, so he went back to that damn car.”
“It’s good he keeps busy,” I said, trying to figure out a way to bring up the topic that was on my mind. I was just too scared to ask the question. Mom seemed to sense this because she saved me from having to ask it.
“We went to Lauren’s graduation,” she said.
“Oh,” I said as my heart skipped a beat. “Did you see her? Did you speak to her?”
“Of course we spoke to her,” she replied. “She looked lovely. She was wearing a white dress. It really brought out her eyes. She’s always had such vibrant eyes.”
“I remember,” I replied nostalgically. “Was she surprised to see you two there?”
“She invited us,” Mom reminded me.
“Yes, but that was before.”
“If she was surprised that we were there, she didn’t show it,” she replied. “We gave her the brooch.”
“And?”
“She loved it,” Mom replied. “I wasn’t very comfortable lying to her, though, Chase. She should know it came from you.”
“If she had known it came from me, she never would have accepted it,” I said quickly. “And I wanted her to have it. It’s perfect for her.”
“You should have been there,” Mom said after a small pause.
I felt my stomach plummet. “I know.”
“You owed her that much.”
“I know,” I said, feeling stung even though I knew Mom’s words were justified. “Did she ask about me by any chance?”
“No, she didn’t,” she replied gently.
“Well…I guess I deserved that.”
“You can still fix this, Chase,” she pointed out.
“I’ll do my best, Mom,” I said at last.
I said goodbye and then I got out the half-finished letter to Lauren I had started the night before. I read through the clumsy scattering of words and nothing sounded right on the page. In the end, I ripped the sheet of paper in half and threw it in the garbage. I got out a fresh piece of paper and settled on my bed to attempt another draft.
Dear Lauren,
I know this is not the right way to do this. I should be standing in front of you saying the words myself. But I’m committed to the cause now, and I can’t turn my back on it. Still, I need to say this to you and this letter is the only way I can think of to get my feelings across.
I love you.
I have always loved you, and I will never stop. It was a mistake leaving you behind. I made a mistake, and I’m man enough to admit that. I should never have excluded you from my decision or my thoughts. I should never have prevented you from coming with me. I should have kept my promise and done what we had planned. I should have brought you with me. You were right – we should have stuck together.
I’ve been here two months, and all I’ve done in those two months is think of you. I understand why you blocked my number and why you changed your email. I understand you’re hurt and angry. I also understand why. You were always there for me, and instead of appreciating that, I turned my back on you and walked away. I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time, but I do now.
I should have fought for you. I should have been at the apartment the day you packed up and moved out. I should have been there for you at your graduation. I should be there for you now. But the sad truth is that I can’t be. So all that leaves me with is this paltry letter and a few sincere words.
I am sorry I hurt you. I am sorry I didn’t fight harder for us. And, I am sorry I let my sadness blind me.
I know now I was wrong. I thought I had to do this alone, but now I realize I just had to do this. I was proud, and I was stubborn, and you deserve better. Know that I love you, Lauren, and that once my obligation is finished here, I’m coming back home. I’m coming back home and this time, I’m going to fight for you.
Love always,
Chase
I read through the letter a couple of times after I had finished writing it and was reasonably satisfied with what I had written. I decided to post it the first chance I got and I was just slipping the letter into an envelope when Damper came in.
“Hey, man,” he said as he plopped down on my bed.
I nodded back at him. He was a short, burly guy with heavy muscles lining his arms and chest. He was clean-shaven, bald, and dimpled. His real name was Steven, but everyone called him Damper.
“You’re looking a little morose.”
“I…I just had a hard training session.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I saw you out there. Man, you are a machine.”
“I’m not.”
“You are,” he insisted. “And, I’m going to have to ask you to cut it out. You’re making the rest of us look like fucking children.”
I tried to smile but I knew I hadn’t done a very good job because Damper fixed me with a critical eye. “Okay, man, spill: what’s got you down?”
“Nothing,” I said, trying to wave away the question.
“Come on, you should know me by now,” Damper said with a smile. “I’m like a dog with a bone. I’m going to stay here till you spill your guts. You can tell me anything.” I laughed, but Damper continued on, unaffected. “Is it cause your kind of funny looking?” he asked teasingly. “Cause I can see how that can get a guy down.”
I rolled my eyes and sat up. “If I tell you, will you shut up?”
“Cross my heart,” he said like a girl scout.
I opened my desk drawer and pulled out the picture of Lauren that I had brought with me. It was a recent picture; it had been taken a few weeks before we had heard about Braden. Lauren and I had gone to the park for a walk. She was wearing a light blue sundre
ss; the sun was falling on those mesmerizing, green eyes of hers and her dark hair was slicked back over one shoulder. Her head was thrown back a little and she was laughing at something I had said just before I had snapped the photo. She looked perfect.
I glanced at the picture for a moment before I passed it to Damper. I watched as he gazed at Lauren for a long moment; when he looked back up at me his eyes had lost all their teasing.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Was,” I replied. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Then you’re a complete idiot,” he said shaking his head. “She’s a beauty. How could you let a girl like that get away?”
“Like you said, I was an idiot,” I replied. “But I’m going to get her back.”
“How?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “You’re going to be away for four years.”
“I know,” I replied. “But when I get back.”
“When you get back?” he repeated incredulously. “By the time you get back, she’s going to be involved with some other guy. Four years is a long time to expect someone to wait for you, man.”
I nodded as I looked down at Lauren’s picture. “I know that,” I said. “It’s just….”
“Yeah?”
“Lauren and I…we were something special,” I said. “We’re soul mates.”
“You really believe in soul mates?” Damper asked curiously.
“Having been with Lauren, I have no choice but to.”
“And you really think she’s still going to be single when you come back four years from now?” he asked seriously.
“A guy can hope, right?”
“Hope, dream,” Damper said with a shrug. “It’s all the same thing to me. Doesn’t mean a thing if there are no actions to back it up.”
I stared at the thin letter sitting on my desk and felt myself deflate at his words. He was right, though, and I knew it. Lauren was a one in a million kind of girl, and if I had been smart enough to see that at 12, then so would some other guy out there. How could I hope to compete with any one of them? All I had was a handful of poorly written letters, a distance between us that would stretch four years, and regrets so big they could fill a football stadium.
Damper was right: I was well and truly fucked.
Chapter Seventeen
Lauren
Six Months Later
It had been eight months since Chase had walked out of my life and I hated that I still kept track of time like that. Two weeks since Chase left. Four months since Chase left. Eight months since Chase left. I wondered if I would measure my entire life by how much time had elapsed since I’d last seen him.
I stared at the small shoebox in front of me as I rubbed my huge belly. I was a couple of days away from my due date, and I was starting to feel the discomfort of being so heavily pregnant. The child inside me kicked furiously, anxious to be born, and I winced at how strong he was.
“Shhh, little one,” I cooed. “I’ll see you soon.”
As he settled down, I reached for the shoebox and opened it up. There were five letters nestled inside it, all of them unopened and all of them addressed to me in Chase’s familiar handwriting. I had received the first one about five months ago and the rest came in one-month intervals. My first instinct had been anger and that had almost caused me to throw the first letter out. I had actually chucked it in the garbage in my bedroom, only to fish it out moments later.
It was then that I realized how much I still loved Chase and how insignificant my progress had been over the last eight months since he had left for boot camp. I couldn’t bring myself to read his words, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out either. In the end, I had found myself an empty shoebox and kept all his letters there. Every now and again, I would take it out and look through the letters and strangely enough, that would make me feel better.
I patted my stomach fondly. “I don’t know if you will ever meet your father,” I said to my unborn child. “But just in case you don’t, I want you to know he is a good man. He was just a little sad and confused, I suppose…but he’s still a good man. He’s out there being a hero and fighting for his country, just like your uncle did.”
“Lauren?” my mother popped her head into my room. She was dressed in a modest, blue dress that brightened up her face. She had pulled back her hair into an elegant topknot and she had even applied a little light makeup. “Were you talking to someone?”
“Just the baby,” I said with a smile. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she walked into my room. “You’re not ready.”
“Oh right, the Christmas Eve service,” I nodded.
I had promised Mom weeks ago that I would attend the service with her. I didn’t really feel like going anywhere in my condition, but she looked so excited that I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her.
“You don’t have to rush,” she told me. “It won’t start for another hour and the church is just down the street. You can take your time.”
“Okay,” I nodded as I got up and moved towards the bathroom. I turned back for my towel just in time to see Mom look over at my shoebox.
“You still haven’t opened them, have you?” she asked.
“No,” I replied. “And I don’t think I’m going to.”
“You’re not even a little curious as to what’s inside them?”
“Not really,” I said, only half lying. “Chase made his decision, and I made mine. I don’t think there’s any point in looking back.”
“What makes you think reading those letters will take you back?”
“Because they’ll make me question the last eight months,” I said. “Or worse, they’ll make me hope for the future, and I have to come to terms with the fact that there is no future for Chase and I anymore.”
“Do you really believe that?” she asked. Her tone spoke volumes.
I hesitated for a moment. “I think I’m sure,” I said. “But only time will tell.”
I went into the bathroom and had a nice, warm shower. I was a little more relaxed these days because the gym was closed for Christmas and New Year’s, which meant I had some much needed time to myself. I was no longer a personal trainer; that particular job was a little unrealistic in my present condition, but Jeffrey was nice enough to keep me on as management staff. When I got back in shape after the baby, I could resume my old job. It was more than I had hoped for.
When I walked back into my room, Mom was still there. She had put away my shoebox and had replaced it with the dress I would be wearing. It was a baby-blue dress in billowy silk that was both attractive and flattering. I maneuvered myself into it with her help, and she zipped me up from behind. I looked at myself in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised by the reflection.
After the first trimester, my body had been surprisingly co-operative. I had gained all my weight in my stomach and maybe a tiny bit on my cheeks. Still, the extra flesh on my face made me look younger. My mother liked to refer to it as being in full bloom. I sat down and ran a brush through my hair. It had got more voluminous during my pregnancy. I brushed it to a glossy sheen and then applied a little lipstick.
“I’m ready,” I said.
My mother looked at me through the mirror and smiled. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful pregnant woman.”
I smiled. “You might be a little biased, Mom.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I shook my head at her maternal pride and got up. “We should get going,” I said.
“Okay,” she nodded. “Are you all right to walk?”
“Of course,” I nodded. “It’s only a short distance.”
Mom had just left the room when I felt a pain shoot straight through me. I bent over, holding my stomach and cringing against the pain. “Oww,” I breathed slowly as I straightened up again. I took a moment, realized I felt okay, and then moved into the living room where Mom was grabbing our coats. She was walking towards me with my coat when another pain climbed up
my spine.
“Oh God,” I said and grabbed at the sofa for some balance.
She rushed over towards me. “Lauren?” she asked with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I think that was a contraction,” I said. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it was.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
“We’ll need the car for that,” I pointed out.
“I’ll go bring the car around,” she said quickly as she grabbed the car keys from the kitchen table and moved fast for the door.
I gasped instinctively as water splashed down between my legs. “My water just broke,” I said. “This baby is well and truly on its way.”
“Right,” Mom nodded fast. “Come with me; we’ll go to the car together.”
With Mom’s help, I managed to waddle my way down the stairs and towards the car. It took some effort to get inside the car, especially with moisture sticking to the insides of my legs, but we finally managed to do it, and then Mom was driving us to the hospital.
“I think this dress is officially ruined,” I sighed as another contraction started up.
Mom laughed distractedly. “Forget about the dress,” she said. “I’ll buy you a new one. We need to get this baby out safely.”
I was screaming through another contraction when we pulled up to the hospital. Mom ran for help and moments later, she reappeared with a couple of nurses and a wheelchair in tow. They helped me out of the car and into the wheelchair before they rushed me into an elevator and into one of the delivery rooms.
“Who’s your doctor?” a middle-aged, blonde nurse asked me as I was transferred to a bed.
“Doctor Farrow,” I replied. “Is she here?”
“We’ll page her.”
“She’s not in the hospital?” I demanded feeling sweat beads begin to form on my forehead.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Mom said taking my hand and squeezing it gently. “Stay calm and breathe.”
