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forget you as soon as you walk out that door,” I said against his lips. We both knew it was a lie, but the bullet hit its mark regardless. He released me and pulled out, turning away from me. He made to crawl off the bed but he paused. He looked at me with his eyebrows drawn a moment before he was pushing me onto my back and sliding back inside.
    My head was reeling. I didn’t know if he was coming or going, hot or cold, but the look on his face as he rocked into me was of pure agony. He rested on his elbows and kissed me soundly, almost reverently, whispering, “Don’t forget me,” over and over.
    The frost wall I’d built around my heart began to thaw, the melted ice leaking out the corner of my eyes. I kissed him back to muffle my sobs. Of course I wouldn’t forget him. You could give me a lobotomy and somehow every cell in my DNA would still know Henry’s touch.
    And then he gave in. I felt his hips jerk and he started to come, his arms clutching me tight against his chest as he continued to thrust into me.
    I let go with a moan. I jumped off that cliff after him, my insides convulsing wildly as he throbbed inside me. Even though he was spent, he kept moving, instinctively knowing what I needed. My orgasm went on and on as I clutched at him with everything I had, wringing every sensation out of the moment.
    We collapsed together, his weight on me as we caught our breath. After a long moment, he raised himself back onto his elbows, his fingers wiping the tears from my face. “I love you, Elsie,” he said, looking into my eyes. “That won’t ever change.”
    “But you might,” I said, finishing his thought.
    He gave the slightest nod, the corners of his mouth drooping down.
    “I get it, Henry.” My lips trembled, but I managed to continue. “I understand what you need, but I don’t know if I’ll still be waiting for you by the time you figure out who you are.”
    “I’d be a selfish jackass if I asked you to wait for me again,” he said. Still, he never said he wasn’t either.
    He closed his eyes and kissed my forehead, inhaling deeply before pulling away. He gathered his clothes and began to dress. I noticed the scratch marks on his back, pleased that I had drawn blood. My only regret was that it wasn’t permanent, that my mark would eventually fade along with everything else we had together.
    When he was done, he picked up my bathrobe and handed it to me. He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his arms on his legs, his head cradled in hands.
    “Henry?”
    When he looked up, his eyes were red. “I’ve been in fucking a shootout without batting an eyelash, and I didn’t even think twice about running out towards that explosion on base, not knowing if there were other insurgents. But right now I’m scared as hell,” he said, his dark eyebrows drawing together. “I’m fucking terrified that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.”
    I said nothing because we both already knew what I would say. Instead I reached for his hand and threaded my fingers through his.
    “I need to do this,” he whispered, his eyes pleading for me to understand.
    “So go,” I said with a broken voice. “Get the hell out.”
    He kissed my hand and stood up to leave, but some unknown force made him stop before he reached the window. He turned on a heel and crossed the space between us in three large steps. He grabbed the sides of my face and kissed me with such ache, shattering whatever was left of my heart.
    I pushed him away, tears streaming down my face, the pain so fierce I felt like it was ripping my chest down the middle. I wanted to tell him never change, to come back as the Henry I had fallen in love with, but I had already expended all my words and tears were all I had left.
    “Bye, Elsie,” he said, looking me over one last time before being swallowed up by the darkness outside my window.

     

 
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    I slept endlessly. Every time I surfaced, I forced my eyes