I’m the enemy. I represent everything she hates right now—the people that took her brother away.
I chose my words carefully. “When I was in Mosul, I met an Iraqi translator. I asked him whether things were better there before or after Saddam. He said, ‘Better before and better after. What is the most better, is that now we can talk. Now we can complain. Now we have a voice.’ That was what I was fighting for, so they would have a voice. If they decide to destroy themselves after we’re gone, then there isn’t much we can do about it. But at least we gave them the chance. At least we gave them a voice.”
She turns to me. “I wish I could believe my brother’s life was worth that.”
I step forward. Put my hands on her shoulder. I want to hold her, but she pulls away. “Don’t.” She won't look at me.
“Is this about me, Iraq, or Lieutenant Stephens? Maybe you can explain that situation to me. You at least owe me that much.”
Her brown-gold eyes snap. “I don't owe you anything. You’re the one who talked Matt into joining the Army. If it wasn’t for you he’d be home right now.”
“You’re blaming Matt’s death on me? That’s not fair.”
“Who am I supposed to blame then? The Iraqis. The government. God?”
I’m fighting to control my temper, but I’ve built up too much hurt and anger to keep quiet. “Get over yourself, Jess. You aren’t the only one who’s hurting. You aren’t the only one who lost a brother. You’re so caught up in your own self-righteous grief that there’s no room for anyone else. I waited weeks to hear from you, but you couldn’t even take the time to tell me you’d found someone else. Maybe it was because he was there the whole time. Maybe it’s because every phone call, every email I got from you was a lie.”
I regret my words immediately. I might as well have hit her. I see it in her eyes. A blow to her face would have caused less damage.
She looks away. I touch her arm and try to apologize. “Jess, I’m sorry...”
When she finally faces me, the dull mask I saw yesterday replaces the pain and anger in her eyes. “I didn’t lie to you, Jacob. Michael wasn't around until…" She looks at the ground. "I wish everything could have stayed the way it was before Matt died. But everything has changed. We can’t go back.”
forty-one
Lost
I’m not sure how I got here. Sitting on a couch in a stranger’s apartment. Waiting for a woman I barely know to come out of the bathroom after doing whatever it is women spend so much time in the bathroom doing.
Okay, technically I do know how I got here. It’s New Year’s Eve. There was a bar, there was drinking, there was flirting, and then there was an invitation to her place. She’s definitely hot. The guys who came with me looked at me like I’d won the prize when I walked out of the bar with her.
It was too easy. I didn't have time to think about what I was doing. So here I am, in her apartment. Sitting on Candice's (or is it Cami’s?) couch.
Damn. I can’t even remember her name. Candy, that’s right. I used a dumb pick up line that implied she was my favorite treat.
What would Jess say if she knew where I was?
I push that thought out of my mind.
She’s probably sipping champagne with Michael at his parent's mansion. I should have stayed with my mom. Ourtalkdid more harm than good. If Jess didn't hate me before, now she really does.
What am I doing here?
I haven’t been in this position for a long time. Actually, I haven’t ever been in this position exactly. I’ve never gotten to this point unless a girl meant something to me. Never someone I just met.
I need this. Something to get my mind off Jess. Something to make me feel alive again. Something to make me feel real. But this isn’t real. I didn’t drink enough to kid myself into believing that.
She’s taking forever. Giving me too much time to think.
My cell phone buzzes in my pocket. Dumb of me to even think about taking the call, but I do.
It’s Jess’ mom. She’s trying to sound calm, but there’s a note of panic in her voice. “Jess isn’t with you, is she, Jacob?”
“No.” I glance around the room, like I could actually find her. This is the last place Jess would want to be. “Why? Is she missing?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” She doesn’t sound like she believes that. “She went out with her friends tonight. They had a baby shower for Jasmine. Taryn called me about two hours ago and said Jess had left early. That she was acting strange. She isn’t answering her cell phone.”
“Did you try Michael?” I try to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
