Page 7 of Into the Shadows

“Two Long Island iced teas,” Gia calls to the bartender when he gets close.

His blond hair swoops around his ears, giving him a California surfer vibe. “You got it, cutie.”

Gia preens. She's always had a way with men. I have no idea what she does to get their attention, but all it takes is a quick smile from her perfectly straight white teethand a flick of her pin-straight blonde hair, and she keeps them under her thrall.

We take our drinks and find a high-top table to stand around. It's just off the dance floor and has a great view of the rest of the bar. The Long Island begins to go down a little too smoothly, so I push it toward the middle of the table. I have no desire to pray to the porcelain gods in the morning.

“Hey, you're Gia, right?” A man comes up to our table, looking directly at G. His hair is perfectly styled off his forehead, and he’s got on the stereotypical frat boy outfit: button-down shirt, khaki shorts, and boat shoes. “We've got statistics together.”

“Oh, hi. Yeah, Professor Lingley’s class is a bitch,” Gia groans.

“Tell me about it. I barely squeaked out a C on the last test.”

I glance over to the guy's friend. He's looking around the bar like he's never been in one before. He turns, catching me staring. His smile says he doesn't mind. “I’m William,” he says, holding his hand out for me to shake.

My heart gives a sad little thump. Where’smyWilliam right now? I haven't heard from him in several months, which isn't atypical.

He's not your anything.

I give myself a mental slap. Since Teddy left, we've exchanged emails sporadically for the last three years. It's mostly me emailing him, but now and then, I get one back. As pathetic as it sounds, I live for those moments.

“Charlotte,” I introduce myself to William.

“Do you go to UNC, too?” he asks.

“Yeah, I'm a journalism major.” Part of me wants to roll my eyes at the stupid small talk. I don't want to get to know him. I don't want to go home with him. I don't want to datehim. And I know that makes me sound like a stuck-up bitch, but I just don't have any interest in dating.

After getting to college, I quickly learned that not all interactions with men make me feel the way I felt with Teddy. I shouldn't compare the interactions, I know that, but when you've felt champagne bubbles in your stomach after spending time with a guy, it's hard to settle for anything less.

“I’m just here visiting Declan.” William tilts his head toward the man next to him. Looking at them now, they look like they're related. Both have light brown hair and light brown eyes, but where Declan is taller, William is a bit more cut.

Declan takes Gia's hand and leads her out onto the dance floor. Somehow, in all my musings, I missed the two of them getting closer.

William glances at me. “You want to dance, too?”

I give him a soft smile. “I appreciate that, but I think I'm going to stay here with our drinks.

He tilts his head. “All good. I'm going to get another drink.” He walks away from the table, and I know without a doubt he won't be back.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and, as I always do, bring up my email. I wait for the little spiral to tell me I have no new emails, but then my heart starts to race. One email pops up with a name that always hits me square in the chest.

I click into Teddy's email faster than lightning, my eyes flying through the words that he sent me.

Sparkles,

The pictureyou sent gave me more of a boost than I ever thought I needed.

I'm tired.

It's hard for me to even admit that, but at this point, it's sort of an understatement. Every mission I go on has begun to blur with the one before it. I love my job, and I love getting a chance to serve my country. But sometimes, especially when I'm not even sure where I am or what time it is, I wonder what my life would be like away from the endlessly dangerous, high-stress situations.

I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. All I know is the afternoon I spent with you is just about the only thing keeping me going—that and the emails you send. I read every single one of them, even if I'm not always able to respond.

Thank you for being my light.

–T

My eyes burnwith unshed tears. All of his recent emails have been very similar to this one. I want to tell him to get out. To come home to me, but I know it’s a little girl’s fantasy.

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