They never should have ended up here. If only she had followed the stupid plan. The plan he had crafted to keep her safe. To keep her from ending up here. She should have just stayed weak. Looking at her now, her raw strength and beauty, he was conflicted. She was too perfect. In danger, but perfect.
“Command had to have known. So why us?”
“We’re the best. We’ve been trained so intensely we’re past the point of emotions.” Or, they should be past the point of emotions. He wasn’t.
“I mean, I knew it would be hard,” again, her words sounded stilted like the admission was out of her control. “But,” she exhaled, “How the hell did we end up here?”
“That’s not a question we can explore.” He emphasized where the rules were hidden. Something flashed across her eyes. His statement snapped her from her reverie.
“Right.” She pulled the map up into her lap, examining it more closely. Carver watched as her walls went back up. Relief flooded his body as her cool composure returned, as she lengthened the distance between them in a single breath. He also felt disappointed, but that wasn’t fair. They had to follow the rules.
Carver dozed off again at some point, and drifted back from sleep as the train slowed. “Next stop?” He asked. Clara shrugged, barely visible in the mostly dark train car.
The single light in the corner of the train flickered to stay alive. Its hazy glow cast moving shadows across the walls. “Do you think we’re supposed to sleep here? Or get a room wherever we stop?”
He was trying to extend some form of olive branch, keep the communication open enough to protect her, but still professional. All in order to protect her. At least that’s what he told himself.
“I’m sure we can do either.” She stretched, pulling her arms over her head. Her shirt came untucked just enough to show her abdomen. He quickly looked away before his mind spiraled down the rabbit trail of other things that could happen to that shirt. “I, for one, wouldn’t mind sleeping in an actual bed before things get serious.”
“Fair.”
Once again, the heavy metal slid aside to release them. “The conductor says we’ll stop here overnight. They’re loading cargo first thing in the morning. We’ll head out at 7am sharp.”
“Thank you,” Clara replied. The boy nodded and walked further down the tracks to deal with other cargo.
“Should we find lodging then?”
“You can do whatever you want.” The sharp edge was back in her tone, “I’m finding a room.” Once again, she left him standing in the car as she walked into the town. Carver waited a few minutes, taking deep breaths and reining in his thoughts. He had to be careful. He cared too much, and she could tell.
She asked if it was harder than he expected, and the honest answer was…So. Much. Harder. She had moved on in her life, becoming strong, powerful, infamous, even. And he had become a far less version of himself. A brilliant spy, yes, but weaker in so many ways. She was the fire that burned in his life, and without her all that remained were ashes.
He dreamed about her every night. Always brutal. Always painful to watch. He’d seen her die more ways than he wished to recount.
He didn’t know exactly what had triggered the nightmares. They started the week after he broke up with her. She had taken a piece of his soul he didn’t know was expendable, and left him with the pain of processing every decision. He knew better than anyone, some decisions haunt you forever. The ones you can’t unmake are the scariest.
11CLARA
Clara was relieved when Carver didn’t follow. She needed space and time away from him. She needed to breathe without his stifling presence. It was torture, bloody torture, sitting in the train with him. She was all too aware of what they could have been and what they weren’t because of an entirely selfish decision on his part. Commitment issues. Sure. That’s what everyone said to avoid the truth.
You’re not good enough for me.Resounded through her head in his tone of voice. Why hadn’t he just admitted it? He danced around the truth, and she hated it.
At least it would have been honest. But no one wants to say that. No one wants to explain they’ve decided they’re better off alone. So they make up an excuse. “It’s not you, it’s me”; “I need to focus on myself right now”; “There’s someone better out there for you”; or Carver’s favorite, “You need to grow up.” It was a realization he discovered five years into their relationship–a lie to cover what he actually meant.
He didn’t stop there either. He emphasized her weakness and inadequacies and blamed her for the end of their relationship. Too weak to continue. So desperate to be with him she followedhim to the army. A mile long list of delusions, and he expected her to bear the weight.
It was true, she had followed him into the army, but he wasn’t the reason she stayed.
The air tickled her skin, and she lifted her face to feel its caress. She didn’t realize how hot the train car had become over their journey. The gentle breeze blew her hair back, so she took it out of the braid and enjoyed the relative quiet of the evening. Walking deeper into the town, the noises grew as the night hours turned the peaceful streets into a line of rambunctious bars.
She found a small inn, and approached the counter to request a room. The woman grimaced, “I’m sorry, ma’am, my last room was just reserved. You could try the bar across the street. Sometimes they have a room above available.”
Clara was about to try her suggestion when a familiar form in the dining room caused her to pause. “You got the last room?” She didn’t mean for her voice to come out so loudly, but she was exhausted and screw him.Screw him.
He shrugged, “Beat you here, I guess.”
“You’re insufferable.”
He grinned, “All part of my charm.”
