Chapter Three
Roman
Well, that was fucking easy. I didn't want to think that just in case I ended up actually failing, but I was optimistic…even though it didn't matter. Marketing and Organization was my last final, and maybe the A I was pretty sure I was getting in the test would mean something one day.
I joined the slow-moving stream of students leaving the classroom. Veronica was leaning against the wall watching the crowd, looking for me. I waved, getting her attention. She walked over to me with her hands full, a tall coffee cup in each. She said hi, handing one over to me. I took it gratefully, kissing her.
"How was it?" she asked as we started moving through the hall.
"Good. We're done," I said, brightly as I could. She had stayed on campus to wait for me, but she had already had her last paper in the morning. I was glad that she had because I needed to talk to her. Well, I had been glad about it before – now that we actually had time to talk and I would have to do it, not so much. I couldn't stall because we had to study anymore. The semester was over, and that meant time was up.
"You wanna come over tonight? Celebrate?" she asked.
"I kind of wanted to stay home. I've been pretty wiped out lately."
"Is everything okay?" she asked after a short pause.
"What? Yeah, everything's great."
"You've been different this past week." I took a sip of my coffee. I hated lying to her. I fucking hated lying to her.
"Yeah?" I asked distractedly.
"Like, I don't know...more distant than usual," she said. I could hear how sad she was about it in her voice. If she thought I hadn't been honest with her lately, she would be right.
"It was just the stress; you know, finals and stuff. No big deal," I said flippantly.
"You've had finals before," she pointed out. "It's never gotten to you like this." I wanted to tell her to drop it, just shut up because this wasn't the way that I wanted to tell her. We had been together for years, why the fuck had I ever thought I could try to hide something like this from her and think she wouldn't catch on? I was cracking and she could tell. I couldn't hide it from her anymore. I couldn't keep lying. The jig was up anyway but I fucking owed it to her at this point. It had to stop.
"I know. You're right," I admitted.
"I was just worried," she said. Good going, I thought, that was exactly what you never wanted her to have to do.
"Don't be. Listen. How about you come to my apartment with me?"
"It'll be nice to spend some time together when we aren't worried about class," she agreed. I had done some pretty shitty stuff in my life, but I was already sure this was about to take the cake. We walked to the parking lot together, her doing most of the talking. It was hard to pay attention while I tried to remember where the hell I had left my warning order. She had her car today, so she just followed me.
I let her walk into my apartment ahead of me when we got there, almost a hundred percent sure I had left the order in my room. Maybe it was a better idea to bring it out and let her read it herself. That way we could talk about it and she'd know exactly why I had been so distant, why I didn't want to see her parents and why we weren't going to Montana this summer. Yeah, no. Not going to happen. I knew what I had to do.
She dropped her backpack and sat on the couch, lying out on her back. She was here so often she had clothes in my closet. The only reason we weren't living together was she had a roommate, a nursing student in our year, and they had moved into the apartment together as freshmen. She didn't want to back out of the lease and ditch her.
That and the fact that since I was enlisted in the US Armed Forces, I could get a warning order to deploy basically whenever they felt like they needed me, and I didn't want a situation where that happened and she would be trapped in a lease alone… Basically what would be happening now if we did live together.
"Thank God that's finally over," she said.
It's now or never, I thought. You have to do it and you have to do it now. You bitch out and she has to hear it from Tiffany or your dad, and that would only make it worse. Just fucking do it now and you can leave knowing that you did the right thing by her.
"We need to talk, Ron," I said.
"What is it?" she asked, sitting up on the couch. Her eyes were round, and she looked so innocent and unassuming. It was almost enough for me to back out and tell her it was nothing. That I just wanted to tell her that I loved her, or hell, wanted to tell her the truth even. Just tell her I was leaving in three days and it was driving me crazy thinking I'd be leaving her behind. She was worried about what would happen to me when I was deployed? I was worried too.
But I had made the decision to enlist myself. I had been eighteen when I did it – we hadn't even met yet. I had chosen it knowing I would have to deal with the consequences. She hadn't. She didn't have to deal with not knowing what was happening to me while I was gone, whether I'd ever come back, whether I'd be the same person she knew when I did. I couldn't make her wait, and I couldn't make her worry. That wasn't my call, and she didn't deserve it.
"Look, I didn't want to do this before finals; it wouldn't have been fair," I started.
"Didn't want to do what?"
"This, Veronica," I said. I never called her by her full name, and I could see the effect it had on her. She stopped looking confused and started looking scared.
"What?"
"The two of us. It's not working anymore. I want to break up." I hated how steady my voice sounded lying to her like that. That was what it was, another fucking lie. I loved the shit out of this girl, but I had to make her believe that I didn't. I had to push her away, and I had to do whatever I had to in order to make her see that we couldn't work anymore.
"Break up? What are you talking about, Roman? Why?"
"You wanted to know why I've been distant lately." She looked hurt.
"Did I do something?" she asked. No, I thought. You're perfect, but that's why I have to let you go.
"It's been almost three years. We're different people now, Veronica."
"Where is this coming from?" she asked. "I thought we were on the same page. When did you start feeling like this?"
"That doesn't make a difference. I can't be with you anymore."
"You asked me to come here with you just so you could tell me this?"
"I thought you deserved more than a text," I snapped. She stood suddenly. Good, leave, I thought. Don't drag it out anymore.
"You thought I deserved more than a text? How fucking kind of you, Roman. You still haven't told me anything. This is totally out of left field – where is this coming from?" she stopped herself, looking at me. "Is there someone else?"
"At least I'm telling you before you found out yourself," I said spitefully. Her face drained. She blinked a few times, her eyes filling with tears. Everything in my body was telling me to go to her, hug her and make it stop. I was hurting her, but I had to do it. What she would feel waiting for me to come back from deployment would be much worse. It was for her own good.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're lying to me."
"Maybe I should have just sent you a fucking text," I spat.
"Why are you being so cruel?" Her tears flowed down her cheeks.
"It's over, Veronica. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you."
"What did I do?" Her voice was small and empty.
"Nothing. I'm not going to ask you to be my friend because that's just insulting. I just don't want to be with you anymore."
"What is it? Why? Am I holding you back?"
"Don't put words in my mouth, Veronica. I didn't fucking want this. I wanted this to be easy, and clean." I swallowed, the words didn’t want to come out of my throat. “I don’t love you anymore.” I practically heard it break, shatter, the last two and a half years together, in love and happy. I had just destroyed it.
"Easy and clean? The person you've loved for years suddenly telling you they're done with you? How the hell could that ever be clean?" She reached down for her backpack and started angrily towards the door.
"I'll send your shit over to your apartment," I said, not turning to look at her.
"No. Don't. That would be asking way too much. Just throw it out, I don't care. You can stop pretending that you do, too. But you know what? Thanks for telling me. Now I don’t have to lie to myself that any of this has been real." I heard the door open and slam closed. I was alone. I let out a ragged breath and felt my body unclench.
It was over. I had done it. Broken up with the girl I had been in love with for two and a half years so it wouldn't hurt her when I had to leave in a few days.
I didn't know what the fuck I had expected to feel when I finally did it. It would have been nice to feel like I had done the right thing but I didn't. I felt like a monster. She had been crying, heartbroken, and it was because of me.
I only lived a floor up. If I went after her now, I'd probably still find her backing out of her parking spot. No. I wasn't going to do that. It was this or make her wait... I had chosen this.
When did this start paying off? Because seeing her face, I didn't know anymore whether it was the right decision. If she wasn't attached to me anymore, I wasn't her problem. Whatever happened to me didn't have to worry her. She would be fine, I knew she would be. I just wasn't that sure about myself anymore.
Several hours later, my phone rang. I knew who was on the other end of the line before I looked. I also knew who I wished that it was instead. I answered; ignoring it wasn't an option.
"Hello?"
"This is Chief Hanson with the National Guard. How are you this evening?"
The last time I had gotten this phone call, I had gotten the warning order for my deployment delivered to my dad's house a few days earlier. That had been about a month ago, apparently a lot longer than most people got before they had to leave.
"Fine," I lied, "how are you?" I threw in even though he wasn't going to tell me.
"You and your battalion have been transferred to active duty. You have three days to report. Do you understand?" he said. I said that I did. He kept talking after that, and I just kept telling him okay. Okay. Okay, I'd be there. Okay, I knew I had paperwork to process.
We were being deployed in support of Operation Freedom's Sentinel for any duration up to eighteen months. I had to report Monday morning, 8a.m. Destination: Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan.