CHAPTER EIGHT
GABE
One simple lift over her head and that dress would be gone. Hell, I could just tear it right off her body, but they’re just thoughts for now—‘for now’ being the operative part of the equation.
I couldn’t have planned lunch better. We’re at a waterside restaurant, a cloud-spotted sky so blue and crisp it looked like CGI above.
Shannon seemed surprised when I told her the restaurant was Turkish.
“Turkish?” she’d said. “Are we on a world tour of cuisine?”
“If that’s what it takes to win you over. I promise we’ll aim for a different continent next time,” I replied, holding her seat out.
We ate, drank. I discovered Shannon’s never had a beer in her life, and she discovered I’ve got a serious sweet tooth. The Middle East was no good for that. Baklava, umm ali, kanafeh, balah el sham… It’s a wonder I didn’t return Stateside carrying an extra fifty pounds around my waist.
I’m walking Shannon back along the river, the water still. People in this city don’t know how good they’ve got it, not having to watch the street corners or fear incoming missile strikes whenever they look to the sky.
We don’t hold hands, but we are walking close—close enough for our fingers to brush from time to time. When I was younger I probably would have thrown her over my shoulder and jogged home like a true caveman, but something tells me a brute force attack is not the right way to play this. No, I have to bring my A-game to this firefight.
She’s not going to go for anything, says my head, because you’re not going to go there. You can’t. You shouldn’t. You do not fucking deserve that kind of happiness.
I exhale and box the thoughts away.
“Everything alright?” asks Shannon, lifting her hair back over her shoulder so I can better see her face and its soft contours, the plump pull of her lips doing strange things to my nether regions.
“All good.” I smile back. “I was just thinking about Mom.”
“You know,” she says, “you’re going to an awful lot of trouble to make her feel better.”
Oh, I’ve thought about that alright.
Bullshit. You didn’t think about it at all.
“She must be really important to you,” Shannon continues.
“Of course,” I reply. “She raised Matt and I alone. She didn’t ask for any help or handouts, even though she was working two jobs to cover the mortgage, to put clothes on our backs and food on our table. I’ve never taken that for granted. She wanted me to go to university, told me she’d take on a third job to get me there, but I didn’t want to put that kind of strain on her.”
“So you joined the Navy.”
I nod. “That’s right. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was down at the local recruitment office. I didn’t want to be a burden on her any longer. The pay was good, the tax breaks appealing… I thought I could see the world, maybe do a little good while I was at it. I never expected it to be so full-on.”
“But you’re a Navy SEAL. You’re the best of the best, right?”
I smile at that. “When I joined up I just wanted the cushiest job they had going. I guess my competitive spirit got the better of me.”
“So you’re competitive?”
“You won’t find a SEAL who’s not. It requires a certain degree of ruthlessness, of,” it takes me a second to think how best to phrase it, “dedication to will.”
“How did she handle it, your mother?”
“Well enough. I’m making her out to be some kind of superhuman robot, but the truth is she struggled with depression when we were growing up. We didn’t know until we were teenagers, of course, but I could always sense when something wasn’t quite right. She worried about us.”
“I don’t imagine being flung to a conflict country helped?”
My head bobs to the side. “No. It did not, but if she was worried, she never let on. I don’t think she wanted me worrying about it either, which is kind of funny when you think about it. I never thought I’d spend the last years I had with her overseas. Now I’m just trying to make her as comfortable and happy as possible before she passes, and, hard as it is, passing is the best thing. She’s weathered this disease long enough, fought hard, but she deserves peace. And this thing? With us? It’s the least I can do.”
I can see Shannon considering it, taking in my words and sorting them out.
“I’m getting sentimental,” I apologize. “I don’t mean to lay this all on you.”
“No, it’s fine, really. I like it, that you’re so open. Most guys don’t talk about these kinds of things. I thought, given you’re a big bad Navy SEAL and all that you’d be even more closed off, but you’re full of surprises.”
You have no idea.
I stop walking and turn to face her. “I’m not trying to put any kind of pressure on you. Just be yourself.”
Two cyclists go whipping around us, the sound of live music beating away back in the restaurant district.
Shannon takes a step forward and touches my cheek, so light her fingers could be feathers. “I get it, Gabe. I do.” She lets her hand fall away. “You can go back to being that big bad SEAL if you want. I won’t hold it against you.”
But it’s her I want to hold, as much as my head’s trying to warn me off it.
I want to kiss her. The moment is perfect.
But I can’t.
Triss.
I’m trying. I’m fucking trying, but I can’t get her out of my head—the last words she spoke to me, the helplessness of it all. Where was I when she needed me? I abandoned her. It’s not right, none of it is. I am not right. I don’t think I ever will be, not for a girl like Shannon, a gentle, pure soul who’s never experienced war, who’s never taken a life or seen his friends torn to pieces.
Compartmentalize, they say, the head doctors with their fucking mind voodoo, but I don’t have enough compartments for the kind of shit I’ve seen. There aren’t enough boxes in the world for that.
But god I want to. Every fiber of my body wants to lean forward and feel her lips again, crush my mouth against hers, the softness I’ve been craving for so long.
I turn and start to walk instead, cursing myself but at the same time satisfied.
I was impulsive once. I thought I was untouchable.
I’m never going to make that mistake again.
Shannon is quiet. Disappointed perhaps? I can’t tell. You think a Navy SEAL would be a master of reading people, but Shannon’s as much of a mystery to me as daytime TV.
For the first time in a long time, I’m fucking lost.