Page 108 of Hard to Lose

“Water, please.” She laughs and turns to rub her pregnant belly.

“Sorry. I didn’t see there were two of you,” I say, wondering why a pregnant woman came into a bar by herself. “One water it is.”

I pour her a cup of iced water and then slide it across the bar to her.

“Thanks.”

“Waiting for someone else tonight or just need to get off your feet for a bit?” I ask, making conversation since the bar is slow tonight, something I’m more than fine with.

“I was heading into work—at the hotel—and I thought I’d stop in to see how Chase was.”

Her words startle me. “Chase?”

“Yes.” She smiles sweetly. “I know she came in here often while she was staying at the hotel, so forgive me for assuming you might know where she is and if she found him.”

My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. “Found who?”

“The baseball guy,” she says. Her naivete’s in her favor as my stomach twists in knots.

“What baseball guy?”

“The one who wrote the letter she had.”

I swear the rest of the noise in the bar fades away, as I stare at this unexpected guest like she’s the only one in the place.

“Why?”

Her smile is sheepish and her cheeks heat. “Because I thought it had the makings to be the most romantic story I’d ever heard.”

Now she definitely has my interest.

“What do you mean?”

“A letter lost in the mail for five years from a soldier in a faraway land. A message never intended for her and yet when she held it in her hand, she said she felt a connection to the soldier, to the man. Indescribable. That was the only way she could describe him. I didn’t get to talk to her much about it, but I really liked that because of this bond she felt, she couldn’t rest until she found, met him, and knew he was okay. So she came here. I think someone had told her not to ask too many questions, as well. You know how it is. We’re protective of our own. But can you imagine being in the town with this long-lost soldier, and trying to hold your tongue?” She takes a sip of water and I stare at her, my pulse racing and my heart pounding in my ears. “It’s like a Nicholas Sparks novel.”

“Who?”

“Romance.” She smiles. “I read a lot while I work the night shift,” she explains. “I wanted to see how her story ended. Did Chase find him and was the connection real? Did they fall in love and run away together and live happily ever after?” She shrugs and sighs in a way that makes me want to believe she’s right.

But I know she’s right.

I lived it.

And even though I lived it and know the pain, even though I wrote the letter to try and get over her, the dull ache in my chest won’t go away.

At first, I thought it was heartache. Heartbreak.

But now I’m beginning to think it’s my heart waiting to beat again.

It’s my heart reminding me it’s waiting for her.

Because despite everything, I miss her. I still love her.

“So do you know what happened? Did she find him?”

I look at her and smile. “She found him and after a few hiccups, a breakup where he pushed her away and then was miserable for longer than he ever thought possible, he decided it was time to chase after her.”

“So did they end up with their happily ever after?” Her eyes are expressive and her smile is wide.