"That's why I'm not wringing your neck, though a part of me seriously wants to," Colonel Fields said as we stood at the bottom of Emily's porch steps. After a moment, he stuck his hand out and smiled. "It's not every day you get to meet a real hero."
The last word had my chest constricting tightly. I shook his hand, unable to give him much of a smile back, and quickly withdrew from his grasp as took a step back. "I need to get home. I'm... I'm sorry for what happened last night, Sir."
"It's not me you should be apologizing to."
He turned and went back up the stairs, freeing me to go home, but not without flooding my chest and stomach with guilt. He was right. I should apologize to Emily. Even if I planned on never talking to her again, she still deserved an apology. As did Luke. I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. Things would have been a lot less complicated if I had just stayed away from them all like I had wanted. I was an idiot for being any kind of friendly. But it was too late now.
I grabbed my phone and texted both Luke and Emily."Can I see you today?"
Luckily—or unfortunately, I wasn't sure which—both of them responded with a yes. I made a time to see both, then ate my now-cold pizza. Luke was having dinner with his parents, so he swung by beforehand to talk, or really to let me talk. Because all he did was stand and wait for me to start. There was a no-nonsense look in his eyes that told me he wasn't interested in beating around the bush. So, I didn't.
"I'm sorry, Luke. What I did was wrong and there's just no excuse."
He stared at me and waited as though what I had said wasn't enough—he wanted more from me than a half-ass apology. It was understandable but annoying. What was I supposed to say other than sorry?
"I don't know what you want me to say. I really am sorry. I didn't come back to start shit."
"Then why did you come back?"
"I had nowhere else to go."
"There are plenty of places to go, Taylor. Even if you had to come here first, you could have been gone already. Yet you're still here. Why?"
"I plan on selling this house and moving away, so don't worry."
"Don't worry? That's all I can do. Clearly there are things going on with you and you need help. But I have a feeling you don't care enough to get it." I watched as he crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. "You aren't welcome to come here and wreak havoc on my life. Or Emily's. She deserves a hell of a lot better than that."
"I know. You both do."
We stared at each other for a moment, until he finally broke the silence. "Why are you here?"
For the first time since arriving back, I thought about why I was here. I had nowhere else to go. That was the first thought that always popped in my head. But was it true? I had gotten a sizable separation pay, I could have put a down payment on a new home and let a realtor handle the selling of this one. So, why was I here?
"Why are you here?" His question was firmer with a hint of irritation.
"I don't know."
"Why. Are. You. Here?" His annoyance was growing.
"Luke—"
"Why are you here, Taylor?!"
"I missed you," I finally said, surprising myself.
But I knew it was the truth. I missed my best friend. I missed what we had and I hated that I ruined it. I wanted to be friends with him again, but I didn't know how to. Luke, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised at my admission at all. In fact, he rolled his eyes.
"I wish you could have realized that sooner instead of wasting so much time. I have to get to my parents. I'll see you around."
The fact that Luke left looking just as upset as when he had gotten here bothered me. But the thought had to be placed on the back burner as my mind went to my confession to Luke. I missed him. I missed how close we were, I missed the fun times we had—before I had messed it up. But I had no idea how to get that back and I was certain that it wasn't actually possible at this point. We were too far gone when it came to our friendship. That wasn't coming back. So, maybe letting a realtor take over and stop trying to live in the past was a better approach.
My next apology came two hours later when Emily got home. I half expected her to decide to just go into her house, but a few seconds after she pulled into her driveway, she knocked on my front door. My mouth hit the floor when I opened the door. Emily wasn't in her usual casual jeans and t-shirt. She looked drop-dead gorgeous in a short, sleeveless, black cocktail dress. I couldn't help the once over I gave her.
Her cheek lit up and she looked down at her black high heels in obvious embarrassment. "I-I was at Will's art show earlier with some friends."
"You look stunning."
She blushed again but smiled. "Thanks."
Her smile somehow reminded me of the reason she was here and I immediately frowned. "I want to apologize, Emily...." I sighed. There was just no right way or perfect words.
"It's not necessary. Really. I knew why you did it and I forgave you immediately. You just didn't give me a chance to tell you." Her last words weren't accusing, but they felt accusing—it was probably just the guilt I was feeling.
"It is necessary. You need to know how sorry I am."
"I do know that." She smiled. "And all is forgiven. Which is perfect, because I'm actually starving. I was supposed to eat with my friends, but their sitter called and they went home. Would you go eat with me?"
I stared at her. "What?"
"Go change into something nice. I'll meet you outside." She turned and left.
I looked at the back of the door for a moment as I tried to decide what to do. Go after her and refuse, or go change and take her to dinner. I began heading to the bedroom before I had even made a real decision.
If I took her out, would we be going on a date? I paused and stared at the blank wall at the end of the hall. There was no way I was taking her on a date. What Luke had said was right. She deserved better than my broken ass. I continued into the bedroom and changed into something nice.
We could go out as just friends. People did that all the time. I made sure to remind myself that as I got ready, I made sure to remind myself as I drove us to a sushi place, and I made sure to remind myself as we sat at the table and I watched her eat. I couldn't seem to get over how gorgeous she truly was. Even if we were sitting here as just friends, I was allowed to think that.
"Will's art has changed so much," Emily told me in between bites. "And he doesn't just do abstract anymore, he does these beautiful realism paintings. They almost look like photographs. He went back to school to—" My laugh cut her off as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What?"
"I'm sorry. It's just... Will and I don't have a very great history and I'm not used to hearing so much about him; and you sound like such a fangirl."
Her eyebrows rose. Then she chortled and put her fork down, covering her mouth with her napkin. "Here I am going on and on about the guy. I'm sure you were wondering when I was going to shut up. I'm sorry." She laughed again.
I grinned. "It's fine. Maybe we can just talk about something else now. Like, what's your end goal? I know the restaurant is a family thing but is it what you actually want to do?"
"It is. I really enjoy the business side of it. Which is why they put me in charge of it. And... I'm pretty good at what I do." She gave me a shy smile and shrugged.
"I'm sure you are. It's good you're able to do what you enjoy."
"What about you?"
"I... have no idea. I never had an idea. It's why I joined the military. I guess I don't really care."
"I guess you don't really have to care—" Her eyes widened and she looked up at me.
At first, I was baffled by her reaction, but then I realized what she was saying. She knew all about me. Because of her dad, no doubt. Anger flared up within me but I squashed it down. It wasn't her fault she knew. It was her father's.
"I-I'm sorry." She chewed on her bottom lip, then added, "but you shouldn't hide the fact you're a—"
"Please," I interrupted. "I don't want to talk about it. Okay?"
She paused for a moment, then nodded her head. "I understand."
"So, what were you like in high school?"
"I... well I wasn't popular."
"That's not what I asked."
She sighed. "I had braces and acne... it wasn't a pretty time for me."
"I bet you were still pretty."
She gave me a flat look. "Then why didn't you notice me?"
"Because I was a shallow guy."
"That's basically admitting I wasn't pretty." She laughed.
"No. But I was looking for Barbie."
"And I guess you found her with Sabrina, huh?"
I almost blushed. Sabrina was a nice girl, but I was still embarrassed about all of that. "Yeah, I guess I did."
"She was one of the mean girls, you know. She tortured me in the locker room."
"What?" For some reason, her information threw me off. I had never seen Sabrina be mean. But then, I wasn't around to see how she was in the locker room. "I'm sorry... I had no idea."
Emily shrugged and went back to eating. We finished our dinner with mostly small talk. I learned that her favorite animal was dolphins and that she wanted to be a marine biologist growing up.
When I got home, I went inside, heading straight for the box in the closet. I pulled out my old high school yearbook and flipped through the pages until I found her. Emily Fields. She was super cute regardless of the braces and acne. Any normal guy would have wanted to ask her out.
Too bad I had been an ass.
Sabrina's own picture was a few up from Emily's. She really had been a Barbie. Perfect smile, perfect teeth, perfect face. But also extremely fake. I liked the new Sabrina better. She was much more grounded.
When I found Luke's picture, I smiled. The shirt he wore was the same shirt he had worn the previous two years for picture day. He thought it was hilarious. Sighing, I shut the book and put it back in the box. Something at the bottom caught my attention. It was the old dog tag I had made when I made one for Luke. I pulled it out of the box and flipped it over and over. I had forgotten all about it. I stood up and shut the closet door before heading into the living room to get my bottle of whiskey.
For the rest of the night, I drank, listened to the TV, and stared at the dog tag as I thought about what Luke had said. He didn't think I would get help. Maybe he would have been right before, but now I was beginning to wonder. I was dangerous—that was clear. Did I really want to do something like that again? The answer was a resounding no. So maybe he should be wrong this time.
Maybe I should get help.