"Were you sleeping?"
"No, I..." I hesitate, not sure how many details I can share, how many questions I have the strength to answer. "I was at a wedding in Seattle. I just got back to my house. I..."
Another sob rises. I force it down, but he hears it. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I work to keep my breathing steady. "What about you? Are you okay? Why did you have a rough night?" It strikes me that a bad night for him could be so much worse than a bad night for me.
"I don't want to get into it. I just... I miss you so much."
I close my eyes and lean into the phone. "I miss you too. Your call couldn't have come at a better time. I really needed to hear your voice tonight, too." Tears slide down my cheeks and my heart aches, but in all of this, it's a good ache. It's an ache that tells me how much I love Jacob, how much I miss him, and that I made the right choice tonight. "It seems like you're so far away. Like you've been gone forever. Like none of it was real."
He's quiet for a long time. "I feel that sometimes too, like you're this incredible dream I made up, and when I get back, you'll be gone. But it was all real, kissing you, holding you, finally figuring out what it took to get together. The most real thing I've ever had. I just wish it hadn’t taken so long for me to figure out we should be together. I wish we’d had more time.”
I brush the tears out of my eyes and work to sound positive. "It doesn't matter now, not really, because we'll be together again soon. We're down to eleven weeks. Less than three months."
"Eleven weeks,” he repeats. “And then I'll get to hold you in my arms and kiss you and... I don't know. Right now I'd give anything just to hold your hand."
The reality of our situation, even after he’s home, hits me. “But we won’t be together, not exactly. I’ll be at school, five hours away. You’ll be on base all week and… we won’t get to see each other very often.”
His voice is low and soothing. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll come see you when I can. You’ll come home when you can. Five hours isn’t ideal, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what we have now.”
“I could take a semester off. I’m taking summer classes, so it wouldn’t put me too far behind.” My mind races. After everything that’s happened, I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t know if skipping a semester would work. “But the nursing program is pretty competitive. I don’t want to lose my spot.” Fear and something like desperation come out in my voice.
“Slow down. It’ll be okay. I wouldn’t ask you to do that. Like I said, we’ll figure it out. The most important thing is that I love you and I never want to lose you.”
“I love you. And I don’t want to lose you either, so I should…”
“Close your eyes.” He breathes into the phone. “My arms are around you, pulling you close. My lips are on your lips. Anytime you need me, I’ll be there.”
The words I used for him months ago work for me too. My heart is full. My lips tingle as if we'd really kissed.“Thank you. And thank you for calling tonight. You always know exactly when I need you the most. You’re my hero. My best friend. Everything. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jess. Eleven more weeks. We can do this.”
“We can do this,” I echo. “See you soon.”
twenty-six
Everything After
September 2005
I’m not one-hundred percent. I can feel it in the first few strides of my run. It’s not just the usual mental anguish I’ve felt since the whole thing with Michael. I can drown that out by pushing myself to where all I can hear is my heartbeat, all I can feel are my legs moving me forward.
I think I’m sick.
I’ve been a model girlfriend waiting for her boyfriend to come home for almost two months now. I spend the weekends doing homework or hanging out with Kendra and helping with wedding stuff. I live for Jacob's emails. We talk about when he gets home, all the things we want to do together.
I haven’t answered any of Michael’s phone calls, emails, or texts. Not even when he sent flowers. Not even when he said he wouldn’t push anymore, that he was okay with being just friends.
Eight more weeks, eight more weeks.That’s my running mantra now. In eight weeks, Jacob will be home and everything will be perfect again.
I never get sick, but this time I’m pretty sure there’s something physically wrong. The flu is going around. I feel dizzy, nauseous, and my energy is gone. My legs are like bricks. I cut my route short and quit before I've even gone two miles. I always feel guilty when I do that—like I’m wimping out.
By the time I get to my apartment, I know I’m sick.
“Are you okay?” Nichole asks when I walk in. She touches my forehead. “You feel hot.”
“I just finished a run. But I don’t feel good. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”
