I chugged a gulp of Pinot Noir down like it could solve my problems. Fear and anger commingled until I couldn’t tell which hurt worse.
Trying not to freak out, I sat on the couch, debating what to do as tears blurred my vision.
Go to the base and find him.
But now that I was divorced from Ryan, I no longer had a military ID. Besides, hunting Jace down might make me look like I was a crazy woman. Above that, I’d been drinking. So getting behind the wheel was out of the question.
I sat on the couch and sent off one last text.
Me:Just tell me you’re okay.
At nine thirty, my phone dinged. My heart jumped a mile before sinking like a ten-ton brick when I saw the text from Lila.
Lila:I know you’re probably having a great, steamy time, but call me when you’re free. I want all the details.
I should’ve laughed. Instead, I cried like a baby as I called her.
“Monroe?” she answered on the first ring. “Shouldn’t you be snuggled up to that hunk of a man?”
“He never showed.”
Dead silence.
I sniffled. “I left him several voicemails and texts. I’m worried. I’m pissed. I’m a mess. Why do I like men in uniform? Why am I so worked up to begin with? I only met him two weeks ago.”
“Because you’re falling for him,” she said softly.
I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, angry at myself for getting so invested so quickly.
“Monroe?” Lila’s voice sounded distant. “You still there?”
“Yeah,” I choked out.
I wanted to deny that she was wrong, that love played no part, but the ache in my chest told me otherwise. Somehow,the cocky flyboy had slipped past my defenses, and now, I was paying the price.
“Do you love him?” she asked, insistent on hearing me say the truth.
“I don’t know. Yeah. No. Argh! I’m pathetic. I’m thirty-four, not sixteen.”
The wine was making my head fuzzy, but the hurt remained crystal clear. I curled deeper into the couch, pulling the throw blanket over my legs.
“You’re human,” Lila corrected. “Did you talk to him recently?”
“This morning.” I stared at the glass of wine on the coffee table. “He was on edge about his centrifuge test. I know his recent G-LOC freaked him out, and I couldn’t even imagine. But surely, he couldn’t have gotten hurt in a centrifuge machine. Could he?”
“If he blacked out, maybe. Or you know military personnel sometimes get called in for things or emergencies and have no time to alert anyone.”
“Don’t make excuses for him,” I said, though part of me desperately wanted to believe there was a reasonable explanation. “I’ve been down this road before.” My voice cracked. “Ryan always had reasons too.”
“Now, don’t jump to conclusions.”
I laughed, albeit nervously. “How can I not? I trusted Ryan, and look where that got me.”
She sighed, sounding exasperated. “I’m tired of saying this, but I will again. Jace is not Ryan.” Her tone was snarky and caustic.
I took a sip of wine. “I just told Ethan not to worry about me, and here I am bawling like I just lost my damn heart again.” A sob broke free. “Why does Jace’s silence feel like a goodbye?”
“I’m coming over, and don’t think to tell me no.” She hung up before I could answer her.
