Away From You (Back To You Book 2) (14 page)

“Matt?”

He jumped,
and turned to me. “Hey, Liv. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

I rubbed my
eyes. “What time is it?”

Matt pushed
the home button on his phone by the bed and revealed its bright screen. The
clock read 3:47 AM. I frowned, but before I could say anything, he gestured for
me to move over and slid back under the covers with me. He pulled me close with
his good arm and I rested my head on his shoulder. The stubble on his chin felt
like Velcro on my hairline, so I tilted my head up slightly. He looked down,
and with my eyes fully adjusted to dark I could see him looking intently at me.

We hadn’t
kissed yet, and I wondered why. On the plane ride over I’d imagined our reunion
a hundred times. It always involved a passionate kiss like in the movies. The
real life reunion was just that: real. But no kisses were involved. Now,
pressed against him in the narrow bed, I wanted nothing more than to feel his
lips on mine. I moved in, closing my eyes.

I could feel
the smooth warmth of his lips, edged with stubble, as he pressed them
fleetingly against my temple.

“Goodnight,
Liv.”

“Goodnight.”

*

“Home sweet
home,” I said, setting my bags at the foot of our stairs the next day. “Are you
hungry? I can make something. I went shopping right before I flew out
yesterday.”

“No, I’m
just going to shower and go to bed probably.” Matt replied in a flat tone.

He studied
the living room and kitchen with the look of someone taking in new
surroundings. I followed his gaze, wondering if a lot had changed in the months
he’d been gone. I’d done some decorating here and there, but nothing too major.
Or so I’d thought. He just looked so… lost.
Like a stranger
in his own home.

I reached
for him but he turned and headed up the stairs without seeming to notice me.
“Let me know if you need anything. I bought all new shower stuff since you took
most of it with you.”

“Thanks,” he
called, without turning around.

I stood
there, not sure what to do. There was always the task of unpacking our bags,
but that required going upstairs to our room. Since he’d just not so delicately
shut that door, I figured I should give him some space to decompress after the long
flight. Not to mention the last few days as a whole.

I turned
back to face the empty room. I’d cleaned everything in preparation for his
arrival, so there was no tidying up I could do. My phone rang from my purse in
the corner, and I chuckled.
Saved by the
bell.
I rooted around in my overstuffed purse for the small phone, hoping
that it would keep vibrating long enough for me to feel it in the midst of all
of my clothes.

Finally pulling
it out, I saw the familiar smiling face of my best friend. “Ellie, hey!”

“Hey, girl!”
she greeted me warmly. “Are you guys home safe?”

“Safe and
sound.” I paced the living room, combing a hand through my unruly brown hair.
“Matt’s just upstairs taking a shower. It was a rough flight with his arm and
everything.”

“Yeah, I
bet! Poor guy. I’m sure the hot water will help.”

“Mmhmm. I’m
happy to be home, though. It’s just weird, having him back.” I plopped down on
the couch, then immediately stood again. I was more restless than I thought.

“That makes
sense. It’ll take some adjustment. Or so I’ve heard.” Ellie chuckled. Even though
she wasn’t speaking from having been there herself, I knew the sentiment behind
her words was there.

“That’s what
they say!” I laughed, thinking about how many times we’d heard the older and
more experienced wives talk about post-deployment readjustments.

“Well, I’d
love to see you guys! Do you have school tomorrow? Maybe we can get coffee or
something?”

I looked at
the ceiling, trying to remember what day it was. “I do have morning labs, so we
can meet up after if that’s cool?”

“Who’s
that?” Matt asked as he appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He walked into
the kitchen and pulled a bottle of spring water from the fridge.

“Ellie, she
wants to meet up for coffee.”

He swallowed
and put the cap back on the half-empty bottle. “Oh, have fun.”

I rolled my
eyes with a smile. “No, babe, she wants to meet up with both of us.”

“Oh. Nah,
I’m not going.” Matt took the bottle and started back to the stairs without
another word.

I balked,
and then recovered quickly. “Ellie, I’m going to have to call you back.”

Without
waiting for a response from her, I hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch
as I stood up. “Matt?”

He turned.

“Are you
okay?” I tried to be sensitive again, not wanting to misinterpret his tiredness
for rudeness and cause an unnecessary fight.

“Yeah, why
wouldn’t I be okay?” He posture was combative and it looked foreign on him.

“Just the
way you said that you didn’t want to go… It was weird.”

He shrugged
his good shoulder. “I just said I’m not going. Because I’m not going.”

I stared at
him, unsure of what to say next. He was clearly just exhausted, or he wouldn’t
be talking like that. His tone was very… cold? I couldn’t think of the right
way to describe it. All I knew was that it wasn’t normal Matt behavior to be
talking to me like I was a casual acquaintance rather than, well,
me
.
In fact, I think he might actually
sound nicer if he were talking to a casual acquaintance. Where was the guy from
the hospital that was so sweet and tender?
Albeit still a
little distant, but nothing like this.
I ran through the last several
hours in my mind to see if there were any moments when I might have said or
done something to offend him, but I came up empty.

“Liv?”

“Yeah?

He gestured
behind him with his thumb. “Is that it? I’m tired.”

I nodded,
unable to speak. I didn’t move from that spot as I watched the handsome –
yet mildly rude – stranger walk up the stairs. My phone buzzed in my hand
and I looked at the screen. It was a notification of an email from my
instructor. I swiped at the message and squeezed my eyes shut when I read the
title. It was the second email he’d sent me regarding my late assignments, and
his tone was less than friendly about it. I flopped onto the couch and sighed.

Matt

I flexed my left bicep and gritted my
teeth against the pain. My muscles twitched as they tried to tighten around the
quarter-sized wound left by the bullet. I studied my reflection in the mirror.
If I only looked at my arm, I wouldn’t even know that it was my body in front
of me. Foreign wound aside, my usually muscular build had been reduced to what
I’d call scrawny. My eyes traveled up to meet the man in the mirror’s eyes. It
was
me
, all right. But the eyes looked different, too.

I leaned in
closer, not taking my gaze from the eyes in front of me. How different were
these eyes? Was it just my imagination? I abruptly realized that I wanted them
to look different. After what I’d seen – after what I’d
done –
I needed them to reflect
some sort of transformation. Were these the eyes of a killer? They must be,
since I’d killed someone. Red mist fanned across the mirror, like the spray I
saw on the jet where his head used to be. I blinked a few times and turned on
the faucet. Rubbing the cool water over my face, I was very aware of the pain
in my left arm.

The chilly
water ran down my neck and onto my chest, reminding me of the sweat that had
beaded up all over my body when it happened. It was hot that day, but I still
remembered feeling cold. My uniform had felt like a sponge, soaked with
perspiration and the blood from my wound. I brought my good arm up and wiped
the water droplets off my face and neck. When my vision cleared again, the blood
was gone, but the man in the mirror was no longer wearing my basketball shorts.
Instead, he was covered in dirt and grime and wearing desert digital cammies.
His face and uniform were smeared with crimson, and there was a terror on his
face that could only be real. The air smelled like iron and burning flesh and
my eyes stung from the smoke and dust. I held my hand out to him, but the
reflection showed him raising his pistol toward me.

A loud knock
sounded on the bathroom door, making me jump as if he’d fired at me.

“What?” I
snapped, my heart pounding out of my chest. I glanced back at my reflection,
afraid that the gun would still be aimed at my face. I shook my head to clear
it.

“It’s just
me,” Olivia responded timidly. “You’ve been in there for an hour, are you
okay?”

I wrenched
open the bathroom door, furious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was a time
limit on my shower, shit, and shave.”

She flinched
as if I’d slapped her. “I… there
isn’t
. I was just…
worried.”

I rolled my
eyes and closed the door on her. There was nothing worse than being treated
like some kind of mental case or gimp. I wasn’t helpless – far from it.
I’d recovered better than the doctors had hoped I would, and I was home and
alive.
That’s more than I could say for
some of the guys I knew. They weren’t able to come home to their wives and take
a hot shower like I was. So, really, I had it good and didn’t need to be on
suicide watch.

Something
clicked and I looked up at the ceiling. They weren’t able to come home to their
wives, but I was. My wife was only trying to help and I freaked out on her.
What the fuck was wrong with me?

I pulled the
door open again, expecting to see Olivia standing on the other side of it. I
poked my head out of the bathroom and looked around. She wasn’t in the bedroom.
I pulled a t-shirt out of our closet and headed out into the hallway and down
the stairs. She was in the kitchen packing her lunch for the day. I had
completely forgotten that today was one of her long days at school so I
wouldn’t see her again until dinnertime.

“Liv,” I
started, head down, “I’m sorry about that. I’m just a little on edge, that’s
all.”

Olivia
glanced up briefly from the apple she was slicing and putting into a little
bag. “I know, Matt. It’s fine.”

I shuffled
my socked feet. “Are you sure?”

She
shrugged, continuing her meal prep.

“I just have
to get used to being back. It’s been a rough week for me.”

At this,
Olivia rolled her pretty brown eyes and smiled sardonically. “Yeah, same here,
bud.”

“Baby, don’t
be mad.” I crossed to her and wrapped my arms around her waist as she tried to
turn away from me. I buried my face in her neck and inhaled. She smelled sweet,
but it wasn’t overpowering like she had actually sprayed on perfume. “I’m
really sorry I snapped like that.”

She relaxed
against me and rubbed my forearms that were still around her middle. “It’s
really okay, Matt. Now let me go, I’m running late.”

I kissed her
with exaggerated enthusiasm and let her go, giving her ass a playful smack as she
stepped away. She turned around and glared at me, but I could tell that we were
fine. I sat at a barstool and watched her finish getting her things together. I
couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound like pointless small
talk, so I just sat. Usually, Olivia would be prattling on about this or that
and giving me a list of honey-dos. I wondered if she was avoiding asking me to
do anything because she didn’t think I could. I knew there had to be a reason
she hadn’t asked, wasn’t there some manly domestic chore that I was supposed to
take over now that I was back?

“Hey, babe,
is there anything you need me to do today while you’re gone?”

Her brow
furrowed. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged
and rubbed my hands together, ready to get to work. “I dunno, like mow the lawn
or something?”

“Matt, I
hardly think you should be mowing the lawn in your condition. Just take it easy
today. That can wait until next weekend. If you’re feeling up to it, that is.”

I stiffened.
“I’m feeling up to it now.”

Olivia looked
up from packing her backpack. “So, now we’re gonna fight about mowing the lawn?
Okay, mow the damn lawn, Matt. I just figured with your arm…”

“I’m fine!”
I barked.

She raised
her eyebrows and slung her backpack on her shoulder. She came over to me
slowly, anger oozing out of her and charging the air between us. Her tone was
icy cold and low as she spoke. “Enough. That is enough. I understand that
you’re going through a rough time right now, but I’ve done nothing but help you
since you’ve gotten back. Today, I’m insanely stressed about school, and this
is the second time you’ve yelled at me in an hour. I’m over it. You
wanna
help today? Why don’t you work on your attitude?”

Without
giving me a chance to respond, she grabbed her keys from the counter next to me
and headed out the door with a slam.

*