Fuck.
Jackie. It could have been Jackie. She had a key, too. Needed to learn to think more quickly on my feet. Clearly this was one of the reasons I’d been better suited to life as an analyst and not in the clandestine service.
“So if you thought it was me, why did you walk into the kitchen and say, ‘Come back to bed’?”
Mother eff.
Apparently, I failed in the face of older sister intuition.
“It’s the pain meds, probably,” I lied. “I’m all kinds of confused.”
The expression on her face told me she didn’t buy it for a second. “Right.”
“Can we go sit?” I gestured to the living room, figuring Matt’s earlier edict about staying away from the windows was pretty much moot since whoever was after me had easily proven that they could get to me anytime, anywhere without the finesse of a long-range sniper. Besides, if he really were so concerned about me, where the hell was he? Had he heard Blair coming and left? But how would he have managed it without her seeing him when he went through the front door? It wasn’t like he was Spider-Man.
Blair followed me into the living room, tray in hand.
“Didn’t you used to have a coffee table?”
I grimaced. “Um. Yeah, I did. I decided it didn’t really fit with my decor.”
Thank god Matt had the foresight to get rid of it yesterday before I’d gone to the bank.
“So did you see anyone hanging around outside when you got here? I thought I heard people in the hall or something.” I asked, trying my best for nonchalance.
Blair grinned. “Like the guy you had in your bedroom?”
I felt my face flame. “I did not have a guy in my bedroom.”
“Oh, come on. ‘Come back to bed’?” Her expression softened, the teasing lilt leaving her voice. “Are you seeing someone?”
Oh, god. I stuffed my face full of croissant, stalling.
I didn’t want to lie to her; I couldn’t tell her the truth. And the hardest part was that I saw the hope in her eyes, knew that more than anything, she just wanted me to be happy. After experiencing just a bit of what it was like to watch the person you loved suffering, I understood how difficult these past few years had been for her.
I took a deep breath, opting for somewhere between the truth and the lie.
“I’m not dating anyone or anything official, but there’s a guy, and we hooked up.”
Blair’s eyes widened. “This is huge.”
If she only knew.
“How do you feel about it?” she asked.
I took a sip of my orange juice. “Good.”
Great. Confused.
“It has to be tough. How are you doing with everything?”
Why? Oh, right, because she thought this was the first guy I’d moved on with since Matt.
I struggled to sober my expression. “Yeah. It is. It’s really tough.”
Which wasn’t totally a lie.
Blair reached out and squeezed my hand. “I think it’s a good thing that you’re moving on. I know it can’t be easy for you, but Matt would want you to be happy. And you know, maybe this guy isn’t the one, but you’re young, and more than anything, maybe you should just have fun with it. You’ve spent most of your dating years in a serious relationship, and then after that …” her voice trailed off. “I just think it would be good for you to let loose a bit.”
Well, that definitely happened last night.
“Is he a good guy?” Blair asked.
My heart clenched, my throat tight as memories flooded me. Building sand castles on the beach. Matt cheering me on when I learned to ride my bike. Sitting in the stands watching him play soccer, waiting for that moment in every game when he would look up at the crowd and wave at me. Dancing together at my prom. Matt on his knee asking me to be his wife on my eighteenth birthday as we watched the fireworks at the National Mall. My whole life, he’d always been there. My biggest fan. My best friend. The one I called when I had a shitty day or got into a fight with my parents or my sister.
“He’s the best,” I croaked between bites.
Blair’s eyes welled up. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“I know.”
That was part of the problem, why I’d always struggled to move on. Good guys were hard to come by. Great, perfect-for-you, rock solid guys were once-in-a-lifetime. Once you’d found a guy like that, it was impossible to entertain the idea of finding anyone else, of settling for anything less than a great love.
“How are you feeling today?” Blair asked, changing the subject. “How’s your wound?”
“Good, just a little sore. The meds are helping, though.”
“Do you want to hang out today? Gray’s going to a meeting.”
Blair’s boyfriend was an alcoholic and he’d had a substance abuse problem before he moved to D.C. and met Blair. He seemed to have it under control now, but I knew it was something he worked at, and he went to regular A.A. and N.A. meetings.
“We could see if Jackie’s free, have a sister day,” Blair suggested. “She mentioned that she had some wedding stuff to show us.”
Jackie and Will’s wedding was still several months away, but she’d asked us to be bridesmaids. I’d left most of the planning to Jackie and Blair since they both seemed to enjoy it; I weighed in when they asked my opinion, but Blair was way better at that stuff than I was.
“That sounds good. Could we postpone it for a few hours, though? I have some things I need to take care of first.”
Like figuring out what had happened to Matt.
Blair nodded. “Sure. Do you want us to come back around one?”
“Yeah. That would be perfect.”
“Okay.” She gave me a knowing grin. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can take care of whatever you need to. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Thanks for the breakfast and for stopping by.”
“My pleasure.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m really happy for you.”
I waited until the front door shut behind her, and then I was up, scouring my apartment for any sign of where Matt had gone.
Last night had been amazing. I wanted to think that he wouldn’t have just left, that it had meant something to him, too, but I was confused. I couldn’t ignore what he’d said, couldn’t pretend like he hadn’t been clear with me and given the impression that he didn’t have it in him for anything other than casual. All I could do was hope that I had enough in me for the both of us, to hold on when everything around us tried to rip us apart, to change his mind about the danger of us being together.
I walked back into the bedroom, the memory of last night hitting me full force. And then my gaze settled on the white folded piece of paper on my dresser that I’d missed before, my name written on the outside.
I unfolded the note, the familiar sight of Matt’s writing causing another pang in my chest. The words skewered me.
I’m sorry. I have to do this. I’ll be back. I have a friend watching you. You’ll be safe while I’m gone.
I crumpled the paper in my hand, anger and fear rocking me. He’d gone to Afghanistan. Just like that. After last night, after everything, he’d just left without even a good-bye.
I sank down onto the edge of the bed, trying to get my thoughts under control, trying to calm my racing heart.
What if he was hurt? What if he was killed? He was searching for answers in a place that had nearly been his grave. He said he had contacts there, but would anyone have his back?
I tried to tell myself that he was good at what he did, that he could be lethal if he needed to be, but the problem was that I’d seen what the other side could do, knew what men like my father and his were capable of, knew the lengths they’d go to in order to secure their kingdoms.
No matter how much of his humanity Matt thought he’d lost, he lacked the ruthlessness that someone like my father possessed. There was too much goodness in him to play at their level, and I’d seen enough bullshit in this town to have a hard time believing that the hero always won.