Page 25 of The Truths We Find

“Iraq. It’s boots on the ground for eight months.”

The words land heavy. I nod, more out of reflex than understanding, because my mind is scrambling to catch up. Eight months. A number that feels both endless and terrifying.

“I really am sorry for not telling you, babe.” He cups my face in his hands, thumbs brushing softly beneath my eyes like he’s afraid I’ll break. He kisses me gently. “Can you please forgive me?”

For the first time in a long time, I see vulnerability on Sam’s face. He still looks like his strong self. The solid, dependable guy I’ve always known. Yet the weight of this is pressing down on him too.

“Of course I do.” The words come easily, surprising even me. A smile spreads across my face, more from love than certainty.

“And here’s the best part.”

I arch a brow, letting out a breathy laugh. “There’s a good part to all of this?”

He chuckles, a sound that feels almost too light for the weight of what he’s just told me. “Things have improved a lot communication-wise over there, so we can still talk on the phone or video chat. So that’s something.”

“That’s great, babe.” I smile, even though part of me is already imagining dropped calls, grainy screens, and the ache of seeing him without being able to touch him.

“Well, we need to take advantage of the next few days,” he says, eyes brightening. “Since you have today off, why don’t we go for a ride? It’s been a while since we did that.”

“I would love that.” The suggestion settles me a little bit.

He stands quickly and reaches for my hand. The moment I take it, he pulls me off the couch and into a tight embrace. Before I can even register it, we’re slow-dancing around the living room.

Sam isn’t especially tall, only a few inches taller than me, but his broad frame wraps around me completely. In his arms, warmth comes easily, the kind that makes you forget everything else for a moment.

Sam takes us to one of my favorite riding spots, the Pacific Coast Highway. It runs along the Pacific Ocean, offering some of the most breathtaking views I’ve ever seen. Normally, the lanes are packed with cars heading towards the beach towns that line the coast, but it’s the middle of the workday, so the road is open and clear for us.

I wrap my arms around Sam’s waist and rest the side of my helmeted head against his back, watching the endless blue of the ocean rush by. I close my eyes, letting the wind whip around us, trying to lose myself in the sound of it. But it isn’t enough to quiet my thoughts.

I know I said I forgive him for lying. Well, technically, it was a sin of omission. But do I really? Or did I say it just to end the fight? Because deep down, I know the outcome doesn’t change. Sam is still leaving.

So, he can either go with the weight of my anger following him overseas, or I can let him believe I’m okay, keeping him focused and safe. I chose the latter.

We ride for nearly two hours before pulling back into our parking lot. As we walk into the apartment, my phone vibrates inside my crossbody bag. I pull it out to see Alexa calling.

“I’m gonna go change,” Sam says, walking towards our bedroom.

“Okay. I’m going to see what Alexa wants.” I hold up the phone to show him the incoming call.

Sam closes the door behind him, and I plop myself on the couch.

“Nice timing,” I say as the call connects. “We just got back from a ride.”

“I’m guessing that means you worked everything out?” Alexa asks.

“Yep. We’re all good.”

I decide to keep my conflicted thoughts to myself. I know I tell Alexa everything. But with this, I need to just deal with it myself.

“Well, good. Then that means you should be up for coming out for drinks tonight.”

“I can’t. Sam leaves in a few days. I need to spend this time with him.”

“Then bring him along.”

I lower my voice. “You don’t even like Sam.”

“I just don’t like how he treats you sometimes.”