“When you scan the headlines or read the stories, most of the time, names of soldiers and cities in Iraq are just words. But to you, it’s personal . . . it’s real. Maybe too real.”
I had nothing left to add, and I felt her hand reach for mine. Her touch made something leap inside me. “I wish you’d never had to go through all that.”
I squeezed her hand and felt her respond in kind. When she finally let go, the sensation of her touch lingered, and like an old habit rediscovered, I watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The sight made me ache.
“It’s strange how fate works,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Did you ever imagine that your life would turn out like it did?”
“No,” I said.
“I didn’t either,” she said. “When you first went back to Germany, I just knew that you and I would be married one day. I was more sure of that than anything in my life.”
I stared into my glass as she went on.
“And then, on your second leave, I was even more sure. Especially after we made love.”
“Don’t . . .” I shook my head. “Let’s not go there.”
“Why?” she asked. “Do you regret it?”
“No.” I couldn’t bear to look at her. “Of course not. But you’re married now.”
“But it happened,” she said. “Do you want me to just forget it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.”
“I can’t,” she said, sounding surprised and hurt. “That was my first time. I’ll never forget it, and in its own way, it will always be special to me. What happened between us was beautiful.”
I didn’t trust myself to respond, and after a moment, she seemed to collect herself. Leaning forward, she asked, “When you found out that I had married Tim, what did you think?”
I waited to answer, wanting to choose my words with care. “My first thought was that in a way, it made sense. He’s been in love with you for years. I knew that from the moment I met him.” I ran a hand over my face. “After that, I felt . . . conflicted. I was glad that you picked someone like him, because he’s a nice guy and you two have a lot in common, but then I was just . . . sad. We didn’t have that long to go. I would have been out of the army for almost two years now.”
She pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“I am, too.” I tried to smile. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you should have waited for me.”
She laughed uncertainly, and I was surprised by the look of longing on her face. She reached for her glass of wine.
“I’ve been thinking about that, too. Where we would have been, where we’d be living, what we’d be doing in our lives. Especially lately. Last night after you left, that’s all I could think about. I know how terrible that makes me sound, but these past couple of years, I’ve been trying to convince myself that even if our love was real, it never would have lasted.” Her expression was forlorn. “You really would have married me, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat. And I still would if I could.”
The past suddenly seemed to loom over us, overwhelming in its intensity.
“It was real, wasn’t it?” Her voice had a tremor. “You and me?”
The gray light of dusk was reflected in her eyes as she waited for my answer. In the moments that elapsed, I felt the weight of Tim’s prognosis hanging over both of us. My racing thoughts were morbid and wrong, but they were there nonetheless. I hated myself for even thinking about life after Tim, willing the thought away.
Yet I couldn’t. I wanted to take Savannah in my arms, to hold her, to recapture everything we had lost in our years apart. Instinctively, I began to lean toward her.
Savannah knew what was coming but didn’t pull away. Not at first. As my lips neared hers, however, she turned quickly and the wine she was holding splashed onto both of us.
She jumped to her feet, setting her glass on the table and pulling her blouse away from her skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m going to change, though. I’ve got to get this soaking. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Okay,” I said.
I watched as she left the living room and went down the hall. She turned into the bedroom on the right, and when she was gone, I cursed. I shook my head at my own stupidity, then noticed the wine on my shirt. I stood and started down the hall, looking for the bathroom.
Turning a random doorknob, I came face-to-face with myself in the bathroom mirror. In the reflected background, I could see Savannah through the cracked door of the bedroom across the hall. She was topless with her back to me, and though I tried, I couldn’t turn away.