joined us at the counter with some fixings for the chicken. “You’re not mad at him?” she asked my mom.
Mom shrugged. “I am but I’m not. I just think that his actions were not as selfish as they first seem,” she said. She turned to me. “Before your dad retired, I met a lot of the airmen under his command. I noticed that when they returned from their deployment they felt alienated from the world, like they no longer fit in. And worse, their friends and family didn’t—or just couldn’t—understand them and what they were going through. It’s a pretty common problem for soldiers coming home from war and each person deals with it differently.”
I stared at her as I absorbed her words.
“Henry could have handled it better, but also had the added pressure of losing his best friend.” She touched my arm. “Of course the boy came unhinged. Did he act rashly? Yes. Was it understandable under the circumstances? Probably so. I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
A tear slid down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. “Why didn’t you tell me before? It could have saved me so much heartache.”
“I didn’t want you to get your hopes up, sweetheart,” she said.
“But you told me in the car in Monterey, on the way to the airport, that the story wasn’t over yet.”
“It’s not,” she said, giving me a tender look. “I just didn’t want you to hold your breath while you waited for that next page to turn.”
Henry and I made our way back to Oklahoma at around six o’clock that night. Mom and Dad wanted to stay another day in Texas but I still had to finish my last week of work and needed to start packing.
“About last night,” I said somewhere between Ardmore and Paul’s Valley. “I really don’t mean to question everything you say.”
“If you never believe anything else I ever say, just please trust that the way I feel about you never changed,” he said. “Do you remember what I said on the tape, about the day you cut my hair in high school?”
“That you were sure I was going to be your happily ever after,” I said, remembering how he’d said the same thing the night he’d broken up with me.
“I’m still sure,” he said. “That fact has been the only constant in my life.”
My eyes were fixed firmly on the road when I nodded, letting him know that I was choosing to believe him.
The mood in the car lifted right after and we talked and joked with lighter spirits. A little over an hour later, Henry and I arrived back at my apartment and said our goodbyes at the parking lot.
“So about this morning,” he said, gathering me into his arms. “Does this mean…”
I looked up at him as I contemplated his question. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Then I’ll just keep trying until you tell me stop,” he said, pressing a kiss to my nose then a soft peck on the lips. He kissed me again with fervor and I opened up, kissing him back.
He gripped my hair and crushed me closer, deepening the kiss. I wanted to stay there forever, our mouths locked in an exchange of breaths. My mom’s words echoed in my head, weakening the walls around my heart, shedding new light on Henry and his actions.
He pulled away, breathing heavily. “I have to go take another cold shower,” he said in a strained voice.
I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Me too,” I whispered in his ear.
His eyes widened as he pulled away. He retrieved the car keys from his jacket and slung his backpack onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow after work.”
I nodded and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him down for one last, lingering kiss. “Goodnight, Henry.”
“Night, Els,” he said as he walked away with a smile on his face. “I love you.”
It wasn’t until after he had driven away that I whispered, “I love you, too.”
The week went by in a blur. Henry came over every night but we did more talking or horsing around than packing. Henry had a story for nearly