Page 25 of Casualties of War
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up too much,” she said. “This would have happened, anyway.”
Adán took two tries to get it out. “What would?”
“Me leaving.” She dug in her back pocket and pulled out a foldedsheet of paper. “I report in tomorrow. Fort Jackson, South Carolina.”
His breath expelled in a whoosh. It felt as if he’d taken a kick to the stomach. “You signed up…”
She pushed the paper back into her pocket. “Two days after 9-11,” she said. “It took a while to process because there’s so many signing up right now. US Army Rangers is where I’m aiming.”
“You’re going to serve…”
She nodded.“In a way I never could, as a uniform cop. Military is what America needs most, now.” Her eyes glistened. “I was leaving anyway, you see. I planned to tell you tonight, after we celebrated your success.” She looked around the boat and sighed. “And youarea success.”
Adán closed his eyes. “Not where it counts.”
Her hand rested against his cheek. Her scent was the same as her taste, unique andsuited to her.
“Donottell me I’ll find someone,” he breathed, opening his eyes.
She didn’t smile. A single tear rolled down her face. “I’m sorry, Adán.”
“Me, too,” he breathed. “More than you know.”
“Maybe not,” she whispered. She pulled her hand away, is if she was tearing a plant out by the roots. Then she turned and left.
Adán gripped his knees, holding himself on the bench, forcinghimself to silence. Acceptance was nowhere in his body or mind. Willpower was all he had to combat the need to chase her and bring her back. He gritted his teeth and watched her climb down to the deck, then up onto the dock.
She strode down the dock, her long legs swinging, moving fast.
Escaping.
Only when he could no longer see her did Adán let himself move. He bent and rested his head onhis hands, shuddering.
