“Then you rang saying you were beat and going to your flat to crash. I sat on the kitchen floor, curled up in the kitchen corner, smiling, listening to you tell me you loved . . .” She stopped. Repeating that long ago conversation was futile. “When we hung up, Carlos asked how things were going. He liked you, you know, ever since you trained together for the Joint Coalition.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No, because I could tell he had something on his mind. You had to let Carlos be to get the good stuff out of him. So we watched TV for a while, then he left. He never told me why he came by, if something bothered him or not. He shipped out two days later.”
“How is that not loving him well, Corina? He was a big boy. He could’ve told you what was on his mind if he wanted.”
“Don’t you see? I was so caught up in my life and loving you, I think he felt like something had come between us. And he wasn’t sure how to ask. I should’ve just told him.” Her watered-down words broke her voice. “I felt like I ignored him after you and I started dating. I think he felt the same way. I was so intense with you, I let my relationship with Carlos suffer. Things were weird, different between us, the last part of May before he left.”
She snatched a napkin from the basket on top of the refrigerator and blew her nose, wiped her eyes. “I remember one night he called, wondered what I was doing, asked if I wanted to grab a sandwich at the pub. I said no because I was going out with you. But did I invite Carlos along? No, because I wanted to be alone with you. I–I think he missed me, Stephen. I followed him to Brighton to be there with him. But I was all about me and my feelings.” She fell against the counter, sobs gathering in her chest. “I didn’t see my brother might have been scared, even homesick already, not knowing what he might encounter in an Afghan desert.”
Face to her hands, she could not control her tears. It’d been several years since she let her heart wander this dark road.
Stephen’s hand lightly grazed her shoulder, then he slipped his arm around her back and pressed her head against his chest. He smelled clean, of fabric softener, of spice and wildwood.
“There, there, love. Carlos knew you loved him. Of that I’m quite certain.”
She pushed away from him. “No, don’t.” Frustrated to be so vulnerable before him, she gathered herself, inhaling all of her emotions, so deeply her lungs ached.
“Yes, he knew I loved him. We had a bond, you know? You were his friend, but did you know him as the consummate listener? Because he was.” Talking about Carlos actually felt good. Mama and Daddy didn’t like trips down memory lane. “Yet it took hours for him to say what he had to say. In high school, his girlfriend, Kerri, broke up with him at the end of our junior year, but I didn’t find out until the end of summer when we’d been at the Hawaii house for six weeks. That night in my flat, I should’ve drawn it out of him. I knew something was bothering him, but I never said, ‘Silence!’ to my world so I could listen to his. He left that night and I never saw him again.”
“Corina, you’re too hard on yourself. Naturally, when someone dies so young and unexpectedly, one becomes introspective.”
“Now you know why I must know what happened to him. We have his footlocker, his pictures, and a few letters. The cute little stuffed bear he took with him. The one he had as a baby. And a book of prayers given to us at our baptism. But that’s all. No truth. Don’t you see? Can’t this be your parting gift to me?”
His countenance darkened as he swallowed and turned away from her. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. There’s nothing to say, love.”
A soft moan reverberated in her chest.
“He was a perfect soldier. A good mate.”
“So why the shroud of secrecy?”
“You read too much into the lack of details, Corina.”
“Carlos volunteered. He wanted to stand on the wall for freedom, for the weak.” She hammered the island countertop with her fist. “That’s why I want to know. I’m sorry if it holds you prisoner to me and our so-called wedding vows, but now you know how my family feels.”
Then there was nothing left to say. She’d poured out her soul, and it was then she remembered a storm raged outside the penthouse.
“I–I’ll do what I can. That’s all I can promise.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
Thomas appeared in the kitchen, digging into the candy and cookies, wondering if there was something on the telly, perhaps a movie, and if they could watch. His presence pierced the tension between Corina and Stephen. If he noticed anything amiss, he gave no indication.
The trio settled in the living room with the lights dim and foundBack to the Futureon AMC. Corina sank exhausted into her recliner, grabbing her University of Georgia pillow pet and curling up. The penthouse shook with another wind blast, but Corina found it oddly peaceful, preferring Tropical Storm Anna to the churning in her chest.
She glanced at Stephen before closing her eyes, responding to his reticent smile with her own, hating how he made her soft. How his very presence mined the intimate thoughts of her heart.
The next morning when she woke up, the storm had subsided and Stephen and Thomas were gone. Their beds were made up as if they’d never been there. Thomas left a note on his pillow.
Thank you for your service to the king and Brighton Kingdom!
On the kitchen counter, Stephen left a note along with the annulment papers.
Sign and send them when you’re ready. Thanks for the shelter. Be well, love. SS.
EIGHT
