In the Golden Triangle

Chapter 23: Eaten by a Lizard

Devon didn't remember waking up. She recalled falling asleep entangled in Kitt's arms, his breath tickling the top of her head and the scent of his standard issue army soap in her nose. She remembered forcing her eyes closed and trying to calm her mind. But when she actually drifted off to sleep eluded her.

And then she was awake and staring at the ceiling trying desperately to ignore her intrusive thoughts.

Devon watched the small window change from pitch black to grey. The sun was rising, and she had to go. She sat up in bed and looked down at Kitt's sleeping form. He was handsome, she knew that from the moment she met him. How was it that he looked more attractive now than he did the moment she met him? Was it because she knew the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or the small wry smile he got when he was teasing someone? Or possibly because she knew the way his eyes lit up when he looked at her, and the way he drank her in when they made love. All those things made him more attractive to her.

She wanted to go back in time and start all over again. Sit in the jeep and tell her to be ready. That the stern looking soldier who stared at her with distrust will change everything.

Instead, Devon got out of bed and got dressed. She had packed the night before—it didn't take long. She was used to it. Her things could be rounded up and stuffed in a bag in a matter of moments. Staring down at the lumpy bag she couldn't help but question if it was worth it. Was the freedom, the excitement, and the adventures worth it if at the end of the day all she was left with was this pathetic little bag?

Slinging the bag over her shoulder she glanced back at Kitt and stared. She wanted to imprint the way he looked in her brain. Years from now would she remember the way his arm extended to her side of the bed, or how his lips gently parted as he breathed? Would the way his eyebrows twitched still make her smile?

Or were these all memories destined to fade away to nothing and eventually all she would remember was a handsome young man with indistinguishable features?

The air in the tent was still and thick. Her heart felt like someone was squeezing it and there were tears brimming in her eyes. Part of her wanted him to wake up, to hug her one last time and let her lean into him. But what would that achieve? They had said their goodbyes, and everything that couldn't be said died on their tongues.

If she were in a movie she might have some sort of heart wrenching comment she would whisper into the air. He would twitch in his sleep as if he heard it, but he wouldn't wake. Then she would depart in slow motion, leaving the audience with their heart in their throats as they pitied these characters.

She just shouldered the bag a little higher and walked out of the tent into the humid morning air.

Devon's feet felt like leaden blocks as she trudged across camp and her bag felt like it weighed a ton. Purposefully, she didn't look back at her tent. She didn't allow herself to think about Kitt running after her.

The fact that he didn't ask her to stay was one of the reasons it was so hard to leave. Kitt respected her career and her life. He didn't ask her to choose between him and everything else. It would be easier if he acted immature and demanded she choose him or somehow pledged his love for her. Then she could write him off as a fling, someone to look back at fondly.

But he didn't ask her to stay. He didn't come running after her like the ridiculous love interest in a fairy tale.

She walked past Lt. Colonel Khamsi's office and she stopped. The camp was quiet this early in the morning, but she knew from habit that the Lt. Colonel would probably already be at his desk. Stepping up to the door she rapped her knuckles on the flimsy wood.