“Wake the fuck up, Abe! We’re Marines! Goddamned Special Forces! You think we can just go around as a couple of queens and be respected? You’re living in a goddamned dream world! This—” Oliver gestured back and forth at the two of them, “ —was never meant to get out. You knew that. You got that. I know you did, so fuck you for making me the villain.”
Aberlour considered the argument for a minute, not because he thought Oli was right, but because briefly he wondered whether Oliver actually believed it.
They were words the man had never used before. Not even to insult his worst enemy. They didn’t seem right coming from Oliver. They belonged to someone else. Like an infection that had taken hold. A fungus on a flower. Rotting beauty from the inside-out.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.”
Those were the words Oli had spoken that day a long time ago. Those were the words that belonged to Oli. They weren’t the words of a quick fuck. They had meant everything at the time, and maybe Aberlour had been a fool for believing them, but he wouldn’t be the fool who let Oli get away with this bullshit. Not today. Not any day.
He could have yelled. Could have fought the war this rotten version of Oliver had laid at Aberlour’s feet, but for all his anger and disgust, Aberlour still held reverence for the Oli that heknew. It was for him alone that he chose to walk away. He left the words where they lay, discarded and wrong, on the floor oftheir—Oli’s bedroom. Like a corpse standing between them that Aberlour chose to ignore.
“I’ll see you at morning formation,” Aberlour said, walking out without another word or a backward glance.
He refused to watch as the red door of the last house on the street shut behind him, but he was too aware not to wonder if it was the last time he’d hear it click shut.
He sat in his car, unable to drive away for 20 minutes. Jacques Brel was singing his lungs out, begging her not to leave, and Aberlour did his very best not to do the same. He dug his fingers into the steering wheel, punched the dash, and screamed to relieve his frustration.
It made no difference at all. In the end, he drove away from the house on the end of the street, and never drove back.
Chapter 21
June 2014
Oli told the others on a Tuesday, like he was talking about the weather.
They were in the gym. They worked out most days of the week, depending on their individual schedules and whether they were shipping out anytime soon. Right now, they were in between missions, meaning they’d just finished one that lasted three months, and were scheduled to leave again for another mission of similar length in about a month. They needed to keep up their physical training regardless of mission schedules.
They hadn’t spoken privately since Aberlour had stormed out of Oliver’s house six days ago, but they were interacting as usual when it came to work. Fortunately, they’d had very few meetings or moments when they needed to interact directly. If the others noticed the tension between them, no one had beenbrave enough to ask about it yet. Occasionally, Aberlour noticed Oliver staring at him, his gaze longing or begging for a chance.
Abe’s only response was to look the other way.
“Actually, I’ve been seeing this girl.”
Oliver was spotting Carlos on the bench when he first shared the news, causing Carlos to falter for a moment.
“You are?” He set the bar down and sat up. His forehead was wet with sweat, and he quickly wiped it away with the bottom of his shirt. It wasn’t unusual for Carlos to ask all kinds of nosey questions while they were working out. But when he’d started asking Oliver questions about his love life, he clearly hadn’t expected an answer.
“Yeah. She’s the daughter of a friend of the family,” he explained, looking at his shoes. He wasn’t smiling. There was no hint of joy or pleasure.
Aberlour couldn’t find it in him to enjoy his distress. He just stood there and listened to their chatter, curious as to how Oli was going to handle the team’s inevitable interrogation of him.
“You guys been out a lot?” Marcus asked. He was standing by the rack of weights, having just finished some reps to build his triceps, doing his workout in front of the mirror.
“A few times. She lives near my parents, but she might come up before we ship out,” he added with a shrug. “Maybe we could go out, get a few beers. You could meet her,” he said, sounding uncertain.
Oliver was usually a leader. He called a lot of shots, made countless decisions. Right now, though, he looked more like a kid than a military leader.
“Meeting Darling’s girl,” Carlos said, with a laugh. “Sounds like a hoot.”
“I’m in,” JD said, between pull-ups.
Ghost hummed agreement from across the room.
“Of course, we’ll meet her,” Marcus said, like it was a given, but when Aberlour turned, he was staring straight at him rather than at Oli.
“Has Dumber met her?” he asked, playing naïve, but obviously wanting to ask more than just one question.
“No,” Abe replied, quickly. “But I knew about her.” He forced himself to smile casually.
