The next morning I’m woken to the sound of Heath creeping into the room, bleary-eyed and rumpled from his night on the floor. It’s late, for him— the sun is starting to lighten up the horizon, turning the mountains into silhouettes of ocean waves. I upright when he shuts the door behind him.

“Morning,” he says hoarsely, looking somewhat weak on his feet. He sits down on the edge of the bed and leans forward to kiss me. I smile— until the scent of cigars and booze on his breath makes me gag and turn away.

“That bad?” he asks, rubbing the back of his head.

“You were so drunk,” I say, looking down. I’d forgotten for a few seconds how everything had gone last night, but it’s all rushing back. I blink the sleep from my eyes and sit back against the headboard.

“Sorry— everyone just wants to have a beer with the guy going back out there, and my dad…well…it’s not a party if you don’t pass out, as far as he’s concerned,” Heath says, looking mildly sheepish— but only mildly, like it’s an emotion he’s intentionally trying to convey rather than one that comes naturally.

“I wanted to spend the night with you. It’s our last night together,” I say quietly.

Heath exhales. “We have a few hours now,” he says compromisingly.

“That’s not really the same thing,” I say. “I just— I thought it was going to be me and you and your dad and a few friends, and suddenly I was at a frat party all on my own, basically, and—“

“I’m sorry about last night— I didn’t mean for it to go so far. It’s hard to turn Vic down, though.”

“You’re a SEAL, Heath. You clearly have a flair for things that are hard,” I say stiffly.

“Different kind of hard,” he argues, then sighs and looks down. “I don’t want to argue with you Karli. Not when I’m about to leave. I’d much rather spend the time with you.” There’s a truce on the word “with”— an implication, a hope I’ll slip out of this dress for him.

And I want to, really. But my throat feels thick and my body is anything but warm, much less hot with desire. This is what I wanted last night. This is what I thought we had last night.

“I just wish you hadn’t gotten so drunk. I don’t mind the party, but did it have to go so far?” I ask, voice rocky.

Heath’s mouth firms— he’s clearly disappointed to see that fences won’t be mended nearly as easily as he’d hoped, despite his imminent departure. “Karli, we’ve been together every night for the last week and a half.”

“I know, and I know it sounds selfish, it’s just…you’re leaving, and I barely know how to deal with that. And then to think we had this time, only to lose it…”

“That’s how it works,” he says. “That’s what being with someone on active duty means.”

I flinch at his words, at how harsh they feel. “Yeah, but being with someone on active duty doesn’t mean watching him get near blackout drunk the night before he leaves. You and your dad were the only ones who took it that far.”

“Well, Vic is my father, so to some degree he’s what being with me means too,” Heath says sharply. “You knew what he was like. Why is this such a surprise?”

“Because I didn’t know you could be so much like him. I thought you knew that he isn’t…that being your buddy isn’t the same thing as being your father. I thought you accepted it about him but didn’t condone it, but…you do, don’t you?”

“That’s just how he is. It’s how he’s always been. Yeah, it’s not perfect, but he’s my father. I don’t condone it, I just—“

“You do, though,” I say, voice cracking. “When you let him get you that drunk, when you spend the night on the floor instead of in the bed with me because of him, you condone it.”

Heath goes rigid, stiff and angular. It’s hard for me not to imagine for an instant how frightening he would look, were I an enemy combatant.

“Fine. Sure. But I don’t condone his behavior any more than you condone your mom’s— you rush over there to investigate any time she calls, you talk her through anxiety—“

“That’s a mental health issue, Heath.”

“So is alcoholism,” he answers, and I’m cowed.

“Listen,” he says, taking a breath. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry I didn’t get to come be with you last night—“

“You chose not to come be with me,” I say, shaking my head.

“Okay, I chose not to come be with you. But Vic is family, and so are all the guys that were over here.”

“What am I, though?” I ask hesitantly. “Because it makes sense that you would ditch me if I’m a fling, or if you know you won’t have to deal with me after today.”

“Neither of those things is true, and you know it,” Heath says.

“And in that case it doesn’t make sense. In that case, it means you spent all day drinking and smoking with guys, most of whom were you dad’s buddies anyway, instead of spending it with a girl you care about more than just a fling. It means you chose them over me. And I know we don’t know one another that well, Heath, but if I’m going to do this— if I’m going to wait for you—“

“I didn’t ask you to wait for me,” Heath says darkly.

My mouth drops. “Are you serious right now?”

“I didn’t ask you to. If you do, that’s your choice, but—“

“Of course I’m going to wait for you. But only if I’m waiting for something that’s real.”

Heath exhales and holds his arms out. “It’s real to me Karli— but this is who I am. Vic is part of who I am. Deploying and leaving you and coming back is who I am. So if you can’t handle that—“

“I can handle you leaving, Heath, or at least I think I can. But if it’s not going to be worth the wait, then—“

“Then I don’t know either,” Heath says, letting his arms fall to his sides.

We both fall silent. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them tightly. What am I supposed to say right now? I don’t want to fight any more, I don’t want to spend time angry. Still, I can’t just pretend that everything is fine. I can’t just kiss him and then spend the next six months wondering what we really were— or, should the worst happen, a lifetime wondering.

“I need to head to the airport soon,” Heath says slowly, dully.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Vic can take me,” Heath says.

I bite my lip, cut by this suggestion— I was supposed to take him. That’s been the plan all along, and I open my mouth to argue…but why? Will anything change in the next two hours? This problem is too big for such a small amount of time to fix. This problem might be too big for any amount of time to fix.

“Are you saying I should leave?” I ask weakly.

Heath exhales. “I’m saying that maybe we get in touch when I come back, and see if we can talk things out.”

“So you’re saying I should leave,” I repeat.

“I’m saying that I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to spend my last little bit before deployment in an argument, or feeling guilty, or apologizing for drinking with my friends.”

“You weren’t drinking, Heath, you were passed out—“

“No,” he says. “Look, I should have known this would just end with you getting hurt. I’m sorry for that. But I can’t be sorry for what and who I am.”

“I’m not asking you to be sorry, Heath, I’m asking you to just be considerate.”

“I’ll get in touch when I come back,” Heath says, looking away. It feels like I’ve been punched. Is this real? After all that, after the time we’ve been together, the things we’ve done together…he’d rather walk away than meet me in the middle on this?

I swallow. “Alright,” I say, rising, refusing to cry. “If that’s what you really want.”

“I think it’s for the best,” he says, and his voice is different. No, no— his voice is the same voice he used when we first met, the same voice he uses with everyone else. The voice he hasn’t used with me since our first night together.

So I rise from his bed, tug my dress down to cover myself, and hunt for my shoes. I slide them on, grab my purse, taking my time, waiting to hear him interject, to feel his hand on my arm, to feel him pulling me toward him.

It doesn’t happen.

So I leave Heath’s house. I leave him. I leave it all, and it isn’t until I’m through my own front door that I realize it’s all over nearly as suddenly as it all began.