A box truck in front of them laid on the horn, hard and long, before he could say the next word.
The moment was lost.
He was about to say you.
She was sure.
And if he would trade it all for her, why wouldn’t he talk to her for ten years?
Walking paradox. The man was a walking paradox.
He hailed a cab with fluency and command. The ride across the river to Cambridge was quiet. Each lost in their own thoughts, both buzzed constantly by texts for various work issues, they didn’t talk.
At all.
Suzanne’s knee brushed against him as the driver took a right turn too tightly. Every bit of concentration in her body focused on the spot where they touched.
He looked at her knee. She looked at him.
They said nothing.
Deposited in front of the Mexican place, she and Gerald found their way inside. Once seated, she decided to go for the jugular.
“Ten years. Explain.”
“You could wait until they at least bring the chips and salsa, Suz. A man needs a little sustenance before being raked over the coals.”
“I could. But I’m not.”
He laughed. “You deserve the whole story.” The smile faded from his face.
“I deserve more than that.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “You do. And this time, I’ll be honorable. Ask away.”
“I just did. Why did you leave?”
The struggle played out on his face. He opened his mouth to answer.
The server appeared with tortilla chips and salsa.
“Saved,” he joked.
She gave him a hard stare. Every molecule of her body was on fire. She felt all the feelings all at once, as if time folded into every emotion across every second in this scene. Pushing her hair off her shoulders, she watched him. A sense of redemption filled her.
Did he feel a glimmer of atonement? That kiss last night said more than I’m sorry.
What would he actually say?
“Why did you leave?” she persisted.
“Because I was out of my mind.”
She picked up her purse and started to stand. He lunged, his hand gripping her wrist in a vise.
“Don’t go.”
“Then don’t lie.”
“Not lying. Starting to explain. Give me a chance here, Suz. This isn’t easy.”
“You think it is for me?” Her heart relocated to her wrist.
“No.” He let go, his eyes desperate, animal-like in the way they worked the room. Alighting on her, he stared at her with so much heat and lust she almost burst into flames. “But now that you’re here, in front of me, and that line’s been crossed, I can’t go back. That doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing.”
“The Gerald Wright I knew ten years ago always knew what he was doing.”
“I’m not that man anymore. Probably never was.”
She sat down, gravity dragging her, the shock of his words leaving her boneless.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe whatever you want. Maybe after I explain, you’ll see it my way.” He took a sip of water. The skin at the hollow of his neck was bright red, a telltale sign of stress in him.
“Okay.” She reached for a tortilla chip just to do something with her hands. “Explain.”
“After the suicide bomber, I couldn’t think.” No need for clarity on this topic; Suzanne knew exactly who and what he was talking about. Three months before he dumped her, Gerald’s team had come across a suicide bomber, a guy wearing a vest of explosives. The team of five American soldiers had found him standing in the market. A sharp-eyed kid from Indiana, just off the plane, spotted the guy.
Carrying his toddler son in his arms, screaming about glory.
Split second decisions come with costs.
Gerald’s team had tried to find a way to disarm the guy and separate the child from him. The vest had detonated just as another child of about five or so had flung himself in the bomber’s arms.
It had ended badly.
“You did everything—”
Gerald’s palm shot up.
“This isn’t about that. It’s about what happened after.”
“I remember.”
“You don’t, Suz. You really don’t.”
Her throat tightened, a lump poking her, making tears push against her eyelids. “Then tell me. Please.”
“I am.” He paused. “It takes time.”
“We’ve had ten years.”
“Might not be long enough.” The stark look he gave her was heartbreaking.
“I won’t push.”
He smiled halfway. “You are constitutionally incapable of not pushing.”
“Is that why you broke up with me the way you did? Because you knew I’d push.”
Slowly, achingly, he looked up from the table, meeting her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Damn it.”
“I knew if I saw you I couldn’t leave. That I’d drag you down.”
“Why? Why did you leave?”
“Because I was out of my mind, Suz. I ended up in long-term therapy back home. Took two years for the nightmares to stop.”
“I would have been there with you, through it all.”
“I know you would have. That’s why I had to let you go.”
“Don’t play this macho bullshit with me, Gerald. You’re better than this. And I damn well know I am. Don’t feed me lines like this.”
“I’m not. I’m telling the truth.”
“The whole truth?”
His face flickered with admiration and disgust, a strange combination that Suzanne found oddly titillating.