be. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I thought of you, dreamed of you, missed you so badly I ached for you, but at the same time, you have to know that my entire life revolved around getting through, because if it hadn’t, I never would have.
“Then it was my first assignment, trying to make a good impression at a new squadron, deploying for the first time, more twelve-to-fourteen-hour days, getting up at the crack of dawn and going to work and then coming home when it was dark and rinse and repeat, doing it again.
“I’m not complaining. I fucking loved it. But that was my life. There wasn’t a lot of room for me to miss you. A lot of room for anything other than trying to be the best pilot I could be. I dated, but there was never anything other than casual, because that was all I had room for. And maybe, because I didn’t have anything left to give. I’d already given you my heart, and even if I’d wanted to, there was no way in hell I could get it back.”
I had missed him, mourned him, but at the same time, I’d had law school, and then my career, to keep me busy. Lizzie had tried to get me to date so many times, and even though there had been a string of guys, none of them hadeven come close to meaning something special to me. I hadn’t been willing to prioritize those relationships, to give them the attention and effort they needed to sustain themselves. Instead I’d buried myself in work, not letting anyone get close. So in a way, I understood. That also didn’t mean I wasn’t wary.
“Everything you’re saying is in the past tense. So what changed? Why are you here now? What do you want now?”
What do you want from me?
He held my gaze, looking like he was searching for something there.
“I don’t know exactly. I guess it started off gradually at first. It started to wear on me—the coming home to an empty house, landing after a deployment or a TDY and not having anyone there waiting for me. I started thinking about what it would be like to put down roots, to have a home, a family. Started seeing other guys and what they had, and wondering if I was throwing my life away. I don’t know. I’m tired. So fucking tired. I’ve been going balls to the wall for the better part of a decade and I don’t know how much more I have to give. And after Joker . . .”
His voice trailed off, the pain there making my stomach sink.
“How long ago was it?”
“Four months. I started to feel this way before Joker, but after . . .” He took a deep breath. “I just started to wonder if it was all worth it, you know? When he died, I wondered what my life was all about.
“There’s no one special in my life. No one whose life I make special. Joker had that. He was married and they had this great marriage, and his wife, Dani, looked at him like he was the love of her life. And then in a flash, he was gone,and she was a widow, and I watched her grieve for him, saw how his death rocked her, and while I know he loved to fly, I couldn’t help but wonder if he would have done things differently if he’d known how it would all play out.
“The truth is, we don’t think about dying when we’re up in the sky. Sure, there are moments in sorties when I have close calls, times when my brain just becomes a litany of ‘fucks’ as I deal with whatever emergency has cropped up in the jet, as I do everything I can to have to keep from fucking ejecting, but it’s not real, you know? It becomes so normal, living on the edge, that at times I forget how dangerous it really is. That I could die. It doesn’t feel real until it is, and I don’t know, I just keep asking myself if it’s worth it. When Joker died, he left behind someone who’d loved him, who mourns him. If I died . . .”
I couldn’t help it.
Fuck.
I took a step forward, closing the distance between us, hating the words falling from his lips, hating the way he spoke of his life. It was true—this was the path he’d chosen, the decision
“Then it was my first assignment, trying to make a good impression at a new squadron, deploying for the first time, more twelve-to-fourteen-hour days, getting up at the crack of dawn and going to work and then coming home when it was dark and rinse and repeat, doing it again.
“I’m not complaining. I fucking loved it. But that was my life. There wasn’t a lot of room for me to miss you. A lot of room for anything other than trying to be the best pilot I could be. I dated, but there was never anything other than casual, because that was all I had room for. And maybe, because I didn’t have anything left to give. I’d already given you my heart, and even if I’d wanted to, there was no way in hell I could get it back.”
I had missed him, mourned him, but at the same time, I’d had law school, and then my career, to keep me busy. Lizzie had tried to get me to date so many times, and even though there had been a string of guys, none of them hadeven come close to meaning something special to me. I hadn’t been willing to prioritize those relationships, to give them the attention and effort they needed to sustain themselves. Instead I’d buried myself in work, not letting anyone get close. So in a way, I understood. That also didn’t mean I wasn’t wary.
“Everything you’re saying is in the past tense. So what changed? Why are you here now? What do you want now?”
What do you want from me?
He held my gaze, looking like he was searching for something there.
“I don’t know exactly. I guess it started off gradually at first. It started to wear on me—the coming home to an empty house, landing after a deployment or a TDY and not having anyone there waiting for me. I started thinking about what it would be like to put down roots, to have a home, a family. Started seeing other guys and what they had, and wondering if I was throwing my life away. I don’t know. I’m tired. So fucking tired. I’ve been going balls to the wall for the better part of a decade and I don’t know how much more I have to give. And after Joker . . .”
His voice trailed off, the pain there making my stomach sink.
“How long ago was it?”
“Four months. I started to feel this way before Joker, but after . . .” He took a deep breath. “I just started to wonder if it was all worth it, you know? When he died, I wondered what my life was all about.
“There’s no one special in my life. No one whose life I make special. Joker had that. He was married and they had this great marriage, and his wife, Dani, looked at him like he was the love of her life. And then in a flash, he was gone,and she was a widow, and I watched her grieve for him, saw how his death rocked her, and while I know he loved to fly, I couldn’t help but wonder if he would have done things differently if he’d known how it would all play out.
“The truth is, we don’t think about dying when we’re up in the sky. Sure, there are moments in sorties when I have close calls, times when my brain just becomes a litany of ‘fucks’ as I deal with whatever emergency has cropped up in the jet, as I do everything I can to have to keep from fucking ejecting, but it’s not real, you know? It becomes so normal, living on the edge, that at times I forget how dangerous it really is. That I could die. It doesn’t feel real until it is, and I don’t know, I just keep asking myself if it’s worth it. When Joker died, he left behind someone who’d loved him, who mourns him. If I died . . .”
I couldn’t help it.
Fuck.
I took a step forward, closing the distance between us, hating the words falling from his lips, hating the way he spoke of his life. It was true—this was the path he’d chosen, the decision
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