Breaking All the Rules (27 page)

She felt Ash’s
arm go around her shoulders. “Okay,” Ash whispered, resting her head against
Nina’s. “I understand. You did what you had to do.”

It was what Nina
wanted to hear, what she needed to hear, confirming what she knew deep inside.
Ash sounded sincere, like she meant it, like she really did understand now. It
still didn’t make Nina feel any better. Didn’t make the tears stop. Didn’t make
the pain hurt any less.

They stood
there, Ash’s arm around her, until Nina’s tears finally began to ebb. She
wasn’t used to this. Usually she was the one listening to Ashley’s stories and
giving her a shoulder to cry on. She couldn’t remember ever being the one Nina
had to admit she liked it better the other way, even if it did feel good to
have someone to lean on right now.

“Do you want to
go home?” Ash asked. “Maybe you shouldn’t work today.”

The words dried
up the last of her tears, giving her the shot of adrenaline she needed. Nina
sucked in a breath to try to calm herself. She slowly straightened, swiping at
her face to wipe away the tears.

“No,” she said,
her voice wobbling slightly. She cleared her throat, gathering strength. “I need
to be here. I need to work.”

She didn’t look
at Ash as she said it, keeping her head down. Ash didn’t say anything for a
moment. Nina could feel her eyes on her. “Okay,” Ash said finally. “If that’s
what you want.”

It is
,
Nina thought. She might not know anything else, might be more conflicted and
jumbled up inside than she’d ever been in her entire life, but she knew this.
She wanted to work, wanted to do something—anything—to keep her mind off of
Bobby as much as possible.

Wanted to keep
moving forward, the only thing she could do when looking back hurt so damn
much.

SOMETHING
FLASHED ACROSS the TV screen, the brightness hitting Bobby right in the eyes
and breaking him out of his thoughts.

Scowling, he
glared at the box on the opposite wall. He’d been sitting in front of it for
hours, planted on the couch across from it. He couldn’t remember the last time
he’d moved. He hadn’t really seen any of the flickering images on the screen
nor heard any of the sounds that were just loud enough to be audible. There was
no point having it on, but the only thing he could seem to do was sit there
staring at it.

It hadn’t taken
him long to realize this was how Archer had spent most of the past few months. Alone
in an empty apartment. Unable to do anything but sit there. Stewing. Lost.

Bobby had
thought he understood how Archer felt before, but he hadn’t. Not really. Now he
did.

Gutted. That was
the only way to describe it. This had to be what a fish felt like when somebody
stuck a knife in its belly, sliced it right up the middle and pulled out its
insides. That was what this felt like, as if there was nothing left inside him.

This was what it
felt like to lose everything.

On one level,
Bobby recognized that he hadn’t really lost everything. He was still a Marine,
the one thing that had always mattered to him most.

That just didn’t
make him feel a damn bit better right now. For the first time in his life, it
wasn’t enough.

Suddenly he
heard a key being inserted into the front door, followed by the lock turning.

Oh hell. Only
one person it could be. Mac was home. He wasn’t ready for this.

Seconds later,
the door swung open. Bobby heard footsteps come inside, then the door being
shut again. The footsteps moved closer, coming to an abrupt stop at the edge of
the room.

“Hey.”

Bobby didn’t
look up. He could hear the surprise in Mac’s voice. “Hey.”

There was a long
silence, then Mac asked warily, “What’s going on?”

Bobby choked
back a sigh, figuring there was no point avoiding the subject. Might as well
get it over with. “Nina came by last night. It’s over.”

He braced
himself for whatever snarky, snide comment Mac would shoot back. If he said a
word about Nina—that she wasn’t worth it, that he was better off, that she was
a bitch, or any other damn thing—Bobby knew it was going to take everything he
had not to deck him. He could feel his fists already starting to clench at the
thought.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the last
thing he would have expected to hear. Bobby looked up in surprise.

Mac watched him
steadily, sympathy etched across his face. It was the same sentiment Bobby had
heard in his voice as much as his words.

Bobby eyed him
doubtfully. “Really? Isn’t this what you’ve been expecting to happen?”

“Doesn’t mean
I’m not sorry.”

Bobby looked
away, his tension fading, the hopelessness returning in its place. “Yeah, well,
you were right. That’s all that matters.”

Mac didn’t say
anything for a long moment. Bobby waited for him to leave the room. Instead, he
sensed Mac sinking into the chair a few feet away. Bobby fought the irritation
he could feel rising in his gut. He just wanted to be left the hell alone.

“Can I ask you
something?” Mac said.

“What?”

“What exactly
was your endgame here?”

Bobby raised his
head. “What do you mean?”

Mac grimaced,
his impatience clear. “What were you hoping would happen? This woman told you
she didn’t want to get serious with anybody in the military. Did you think if
you just kept at her you’d wear her down and she’d agree to something she
really didn’t want? Because I have to tell you, that seems like a dick move,
and I’ve never thought you were that much of an asshole.”

Bobby flinched.
“I thought we’d work it out somehow.”

“How?” Mac
pressed. His tone was so insistent and irritating Bobby was starting to wish he
hadn’t decked him anyway.

Bobby didn’t
want to admit it, but he guessed he had figured Nina would change her mind. Which
did sound like a shitty thing to expect when Mac put it like that.

Except Nina
doesn’t change her mind
. He’d known that from the start, knew how
strong-willed she was. It was one of the things he loved about her.

So what had he
been expecting?

“I don’t know,”
he muttered.

“You sure about
that?” Mac said with uncharacteristic gentleness. “Because I’ve been wondering
why you’ve been going at her so hard. And since you’re not an asshole, I figure
maybe it’s because you knew there was only one way it could work out. Maybe
because you wanted it to?”

The words
stopped Bobby cold, understanding washing over him.

Mac was saying
he wanted to leave the service.

Bobby opened his
mouth to argue, to deny it, the words rising in his throat.

They never came
out, the denial dying on his tongue.

Something inside
him recoiled at the idea. It would mean quitting. It would mean giving up who
he was, what he’d done practically his entire adult life.

And yet, he
couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

He raised
stunned eyes to meet Mac’s.

“Tell me I’m
wrong,” Mac said. His tone said he already knew the answer.

“I can’t,” Bobby
admitted. No matter how true it was, it still hurt to say it out loud.

Mac smiled
sadly. “Hey, we’ve all seen guys who burned out. Never thought you would be one
of them, or maybe I just didn’t want to think you would. Or maybe that’s not
what this is. But if you’ve been thinking this hard about this woman and
wanting to make something happen with her, then you have to want it a lot. Be
honest. When you think about your future, is it your future as a Marine?”

No
. The
answer came automatically before he could think about it or try to censor it.
In all the thinking he’d done over the past year, it had had nothing to do his
career.

He’d been
thinking about a life, a family. Something away from the Corps. Something that
was his.

Mac was right.
They all knew people who’d burned out. He just hadn’t thought he would be one
of them. Because being a Marine was who he was. Even now, the thought of
leaving sent a small rush of panic through his chest. But he was coming up on
ten years. God, just thinking about it made him feel tired.

Was that what
he’d been doing, planning his exit strategy without acknowledging he had his
eye on the door, because he was too chickenshit to admit it?

Oh hell. He was
an idiot.

Bobby shook his
head. “What about you? You thought about something like that?”

A flicker of
emotion passed across Mac’s face. It flashed by too fast for Bobby to read it
before Mac’s expression slid back into his familiar slow grin. “Nah, you know
me. I don’t have feelings.”

Bobby had never
been more certain that that wasn’t true. Still, he didn’t say so. From the look
of him, Mac wouldn’t exactly appreciate it. He let the comment slide.

“So what are you
going to do?” Mac asked.

“I don’t know,”
Bobby admitted. “That’s what I have to figure out.”

Because it
didn’t change a key fact. He still had another year on his contract, still
would likely be deployed one more time. And it would be hell on Nina. Just
thinking about the look on her face when she’d asked him to let her go killed
him.

Maybe he could
try again when he came back. Maybe there was still a chance…

Maybe. He just
knew he couldn’t—shouldn’t—count on it.

In the back of
his head, he’d been building a future for himself—one with Nina. And now that
it wasn’t going to happen, it had finally hit him just how much he wanted that.

If only he’d
figured that out before he’d lost her, found a way to make it work.

The one thing he
was left with was the knowledge that he was going to have to find that future
for himself.

Even if Nina
wasn’t in it.

Chapter Fourteen

Somehow Nina
managed to get through the rest of the day. Ash hadn’t said another word to her
about Bobby, doing her best to keep any conversation light. Nina could still
feel her watching her every once in a while, could sense the concern in her
silence, until Nina wanted to tell her to knock it off. She couldn’t. She knew
Ash was just worried. Still, by the end of the day she was relieved to go home
where she could be alone.

At least they’d
heard from Jackie. The news wasn’t as bad as they’d all feared. Travis’s arm
and shoulder had been injured somehow—Jackie hadn’t said how, but Nina had
gotten the impression he’d been shot in the course of some kind of action she
couldn’t talk about. It wasn’t life-threatening, but he was going to need a
significant amount of surgery and physical therapy repair the damage and get his
arm back to functioning at its previous level. They had a lot of work ahead of
them, but at least they were together.

And Nina was
alone.

Her apartment
seemed even more empty than usual when she made it home, the silence echoing
around her. She didn’t let herself dwell on it. Kicking off her shoes, Nina
headed straight for the bedroom. She wanted nothing more than to take a shower
and crawl into bed. With any luck she wouldn’t wake up for a good twelve or
sixteen hours. This was easily one of the worst days of her life, and she was
more than ready for it to be over.

Reaching the
bedroom, she flipped the light on and dropped her bag on the floor. As she set
her keys on top of the dresser, her gaze fell on the envelope sitting there.
The letter Bobby had written to her in case he didn’t come back. If he was
dead.

She froze,
simply staring at it. She’d never read it. She should have done something with
it long ago, either put it away somewhere out of sight or simply torn it up.
She’d told him she didn’t want to read it, and she didn’t, so there was no
point keeping it around.

Yet she had.
She’d left it there, avoiding it like she was afraid of it. Which she kind of
had been. Afraid of what of represented. Afraid of what it might say.

So here it still
was, haunting her, a reminder of Bobby that was the last thing she needed right
now. The smart thing to do would be to tear it up. No good could come from
reading it. It would be easy. All she had to do was pick it up, tear it in
three pieces and throw them away. Easy.

She knew it was
what she should do. She did. Really.

She didn’t move.
She just stood there, staring at the envelope.

It was all she
had left of him now. Destroying it like it was nothing, like
he
was
nothing, seemed so horribly wrong. The worst thing she could possibly do.

Except for
walking away from him.

These were his
words, words he’d written for her. No matter how badly it might hurt to read
them, she couldn’t just throw them away. If anything, this might be the perfect
time to read it. The letter had been his way of saying goodbye, what he wanted
to communicate if she never saw him again. And now she never would.

She swallowed
hard, her throat suddenly bone dry. Might as well get it over with. Not letting
herself hesitate or think about it anymore, she reached for the envelope and
picked it up. Sliding her little finger under the edge of the back flap, she
tore it open. Inside was a single folded sheet of paper. Taking a breath, she
unfolded it. She didn’t recognize the handwriting—God, she didn’t even know
what his handwriting looked like—but it was somehow, unmistakably, Bobby’s, the
strokes firm and bold and masculine.

She began to
read.

Dear
Nina,

If
you’re reading this, it means that I won’t be coming back. I wish there was a
better way to say it, but I can’t really think of one. I’m sorry about that.

You
might think it’s weird that you’re hearing from me this way. I know you wanted
to keep things simple between us. I did too at first. But the more time we
spent together, the less simple it seemed. The fact is, I liked being with you
much more than just in a sexual sense. I’ve never laughed more with anybody in
my whole life, never met anybody who excited me more or kept me on my toes as
much as you. Saying goodbye to you started to seem harder and harder every time
I had to do it. This last time I didn’t want to say it at all. I told myself
that when I got back I’d take my shot and see if you might want to try
something less simple between us. But if you’re reading this, then I guess I
missed my chance.