She glares at me, pulling her wrist from my grasp.
I stare at the onlookers, early risers. Redmond is a small town, and with my father being a retired war veteran, the news was sure to reach our families.
“Look, can I at least drive you home?”
She opens the door, and I watch her walk to my truck. I breathe a sigh of relief, pay our bill, and make my way over to her.
“God knows I want to give you so much more,” I say as I lean over her, catching her chin in my hands. “Look at me.”
She stubbornly meets my gaze, the storm raging in those blue depths.
“Take me home,” she demands.
She asks me to take her home, and I do, and when I drive away, I know that I am making the single most devastating decision I ever will make. But I remember why I do it, and I know that a life of fear of losing someone you love is not what I want for her.
