It’s every adult in our lives who, in that situation, decided they knew better than we did.
I tilt my head back and forth, begging for my neck to crack and ease some of the tension I can’t shake.
It was family day, the day surrounding basic training graduation, and I was lying in the hotel room bed, unable to sleep. As great as it was to see my parents, Crew, and Saylor, my heart was missing Wren. She should’ve been there, but I’d already screwed things up. I went through the drawers in the hotel room until I found a notepad with the hotel logo on it. Flicking on the lamp, I sat there for an hour and poured out my heart. I wasn’t coming home any time soon; technical training was next, but I knew I needed to explain myself.
I trusted Mom to make sure she got it.
She took that choice away from me…from us.
And now I can't stop thinking about all of thewhat ifs, even though I’ve played this game a million times.
What if she had read it?
Would she have hated me less?
Would she have understood?
What if she had written back?
What if she was waiting for me after my first tour? Would I have reenlisted?
What if we had found our way back to each other sooner rather than a decade later?
I huff, a humorless laugh escaping, as I stand in the middle of the meat department like an idiot.
Or maybe I’m giving the letter too much power.
Maybe it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. Maybe she still would’ve chased bigger dreams and found herself in bigger cities. I’d always known Wren was destined for more than Silo Bay. More than the life of a farmer. More than me…
That’s what I always told myself, but now it pisses me off, and I can’t explain why.
I push past our display case and start moving faster this time, like I can outrun my thoughts and leave them next to the ground beef.
But they follow, like they always do.
Wren
I’ve walked around this grocery store aimlessly for far longer than I care to admit. I move up and down each aisle, tossing things into my cart without a care in the world. I can’t get the thoughts to stop spiraling.
“I wrote you a letter after basic training.”
“Nora and your mom… We thought it was better if you had a clean break.”
“You were eighteen and he was… He wasn’t ready for you.”
“We were trying to protect you.”
They were trying to protect me, but their actions sent me into the hands of someone far worse than Jett Riggsby. He might not have been mature enough, but he loved me. We might not have worked out in the long haul, but I know he never would’ve put his hands on me. That much I know for sure.
I stare at the jars of Alfredo sauce, unable to decide.
He wrote to me and explained everything. It might not have been immediately, but he didn’t leave without a word. Yes, I had been through the unimaginable while he was away, but would this have changed things?
Learning the truth almost hurts more, because in my head, I built a version of him. He’s still the villain in my story, but would there have been a redeeming arc?
My throat burns and my nose stings. I will not start crying in the middle of the grocery store, but dammit, do I want to. Reaching for a random jar of sauce, I add it to the cart and move on. If I had received the letter…would I have read it?
Would I have moved back to Silo Bay after graduating instead of California?
