Beyond Chance by Karice Bolton

from
earlier wasn’t cutting it. I pointed at the bag and Aaron
smiled.
    “I told you I knew what I was talking about.
This kind of discussion requires sustenance.” He pulled out a
napkin and placed a roll and a couple slices of meat on it.
    I ripped into the roll and put the meat
inside. For some odd reason, it provided the distraction I needed
as he continued.
    “When we were in Afghanistan absolutely
nothing happened between us.”
    I cringed knowing that meant at some point
something may have.
    “She was persistent, and I’m sure I gave her
the wrong signals.” He took a sip of water. “When we returned from
Afghanistan, Jason and I needed to concentrate on MSOC. Jason liked
to joke that I wanted to join purely to avoid dealing with
Elizabeth.”
    My heart stumbled at the pattern of
avoidance that never seemed to stop.
    “Was it?”
    He shook his head and then contradicted his
gesture. “Well, maybe. Anyway, she got transferred to another base,
and I assumed that would be where the friendship ended. We never
had a date, let alone a relationship of any kind. When Jason
and I made it through training and into MSOB, I never gave her
another thought. I thought the friendship had run its course.”
    I slowly chewed my sandwich and braced
myself for whatever might be coming next. He wasn’t in the military
all that long and so far, he’d relayed events that covered quite a
bit of time.
    “I know I sounded like a dick last night and
today. I don’t take being in love lightly or being engaged. I just
figured I’d have time to tell you everything before it got twisted,
but I was wrong. I left that part of my life behind for a reason,
and I honestly never had any intention of bringing it up again.
It’s nothing I’m proud of.”
    I knew what I saw online, and his sentiments
toward the entire situation made no sense.
    “I don’t understand.” I scooted closer and
touched his hand. “Your actions saved countless lives. How can you
not be proud of that?”
    Scathing laughter cut through me as he shook
his head. “Our military is the most powerful organization on the
planet. They’ll make even the most deplorable of situations seem
okay.”
    I refused to take his simplified answer.
“Are you telling me you didn’t save those people I read about?”
    “No. I’m not telling you that, but I’m also
willing to tell you that I was responsible for twice as many
deaths.”
    A prickle of apprehension ran across my
flesh as my mind tried to comprehend what he was trying to tell
me.
    “But you were in war. We are in war,” I
offered.
    He nodded. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”
    Part of me wanted to know the details, and
the other knew not to ask. My father had always told me never to
ask a soldier questions I didn’t want answers to. I learned that
lesson the hard way when one of his vet friends, from the first
Iraq war, sat in our living room at Christmas. I had asked him if
he’d ever killed anyone. The question sent a shockwave through the
living room, but it was nothing compared to his answer, which was
that he’d happily killed more than one. Granted, I was only a child
when I asked, but it was something I never should’ve brought up,
and something I’d always regretted. It was rude on so many
levels.
    Now I wanted to help carry that burden for
the man I loved, but I knew it was too much for even our shoulders
combined. Taking another life, no matter the reason, had to pierce
one’s soul.
    “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
    “Don’t be. I knew what I signed up for. I
wanted to be in the most elite killing squad the world had, and
that’s what I achieved. It would have been fine.” He nodded. “That
was my job, but to get slapped with a hero status when I came back.
I could reconcile being one or the other, not both…” his voice
trailed off.
    And that was when I realized Aaron was a man
full of contradictions because his life had been built with them. I
took his hand in mine and squeezed