Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“But if you’re leaving the army anyway…” she murmurs.
I cut her off. “If you’re not with me on this, you’re going to bring this shit up every time we fight. You know you will.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I’m going back to the room,” I tell her.
Her face falls.
“I’m leaving for Washington in four hours. You take your time and think what you really want from a man.” My eyes search hers. “If it’s a wholesome jock, then you’re with the wrong guy. I’m not him.” I shrug my shoulders sadly.
She rolls her eyes.
“It’s all or nothing, Bridget. Take all of me or none of me. I’m not ashamed of who I am.”
I push out my chair and throw my napkin onto the table.
She looks around the restaurant. “Am I even safe to be here alone?”
“The men from last night are on a plane to America. Do you really think I would have brought you out if I knew you weren’t safe?”
She puts her head into her hands. “I have no fucking idea what’s going on here, Ben. I didn’t expect to wake up on the movie set of American fucking Sniper. This shit’s only meant to be on cable.”
A smile spreads across my face. There she is. My snarky wench. I watch her for a moment and then I bend to kiss her lips. “I do love you, Bridget,” I whisper. “More than anything, and I know I don’t say it often enough.” My eyes search hers. “I’m working on it. I’m working on being the person you deserve.”
She puts her arms around my neck. “Tell me this is going to be all right.”
I bury my face into her neck as I hold her in my arms. “I don’t know that it will be, babe.”
“Ben.” She sighs sadly. “Don’t say that.”
“Take your time and think about it, Didge. I won’t hold any hard feelings against you if you walk away. I’ll completely understand, but this is a decision that only you can make.”
“What if I hadn’t found out about this?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “Then I would have always had a secret from you. I’m glad it happened, to be honest. Now you know. This is me. This is all of me.”
She drops her head into her hands.
“See you in a few hours.” I sigh. “Or not.” My heart constricts and I just want to drop to my knees and beg. I drop my head, squeezing her shoulder as I brush past her and walk out of the restaurant.
I won’t look back. Don’t look back.
I stare at the clock in the silence of the room.
Four hours have passed. Four long, silent hours.
Bridget hasn’t come back.
I stand and stare through the window, looking down at the street below.
I blow out a deflated breath. Of course it was too much for her to handle.
It’s okay, it will be okay. I try to calm myself. I’ve been through worse times than this.
It’s just a relationship breakdown, I remind myself. Millions of people deal with this shit every day.
So, then, why does it feel like the world is about to end?
My chest constricts as the walls begin to close in around me.
I close my eyes as I try to regain some composure. I don’t know why I let myself fall in love with her. On some level, I always knew it was going to end badly. I get a vision of her laughing and smiling up at me from bed, and then I get a sick, empty feeling deep inside. I’ll never see her like that again.
Fuck…
I need to get out of here before I lose my shit.
I exhale heavily as I pick up my suitcase. Should I just stay and beg?
No.
She will never accept what I’ve done.
Move on.
I fold her clothes that were on the chair, and then, unable to help it, I lift her shirt and inhale deeply.
Bridget’s smell.
I close my eyes, in pain.
Fucking snap out of it. I fold her clothes neatly and place them in her bag. With one last look around the room, I make my way out into the corridor and ride the elevator to the lobby. I look around sadly.
She’s not here. Stop looking for her.
With renewed determination I walk out the front, hail a cab, and get into the back of it.
I don’t remember much about the trip, but it only seems like five seconds later when I arrive at the airport and make my way to the desk.
“One one-way ticket to Washington, please,” I say.
The check-in/ticket assistant does a double take and smiles sympathetically. Do I look as sad as I feel?
“Sure,” she replies. “I only have a seat on a flight in two hours; it’s in business class. You will fly into Heathrow and get a connecting flight from there tonight. Will that be all right, sir?”