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Authors: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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“Bad.”

 

He swallowed, and I could tell he was trying to find the words.

 

“Mom and D
ad were… in the end Mitch went to see them – I didn’t know what he said at the time but he and Shirley took me to live with them. Later, I found out that Mitch had threatened to go to my dad’s CO and tell him that he’d been… beating up on me.”

 

My hand fluttered to my mouth, trying to block the rising nausea.

 

“On my eighteenth birthday, I enlisted in the Marines.” He looked up. “That’s pretty much it.”

 

“And Mitch and Shirley? Ches?”

 

“Mitch and Shirley got posted to Germany soon after that. Ches was studying at UCSD so when I had leave, I used to hang with him and his college buddies.” He smiled briefly. “He’s married with two kids now.”

 

“You
’re kidding me? Really?”

 

I tried to imagine happy-go-lucky Ches as a responsible father of two. And then I remembered a time when Sebastian and I had thought about having children. An impossible dream.

 

“Did he enlist?”

 

“He was going to
, but then he met Amy at college and she talked him out of it. He’s the manager at La Jolla Country Club now.”

 

I had memories of the country club, the brief few weeks of my membership
while Sebastian had worked there as a lifeguard. In particular I remembered one very steamy session of illicit sex in a changing room storage closet, of all places.

 

From the
heat in Sebastian’s eyes, he was currently on the same page. I had to look away.

 

“Are Shirley and Mitch still out in Germany?”

 

“No. Mitch got sent to Parris Island as an instructor. But last time I saw them, they were talking about going back to San Diego. I guess they want to be near their grandkids.”

 

“Where did Donna and Johan go?”

 

An odd expression crossed Sebastian’s face. “How did you know they went away?”

 

I hesitated, wondering if an honest answer was in anyone
’s best interest after so many years. But, perhaps, after all, it needed to be said.

 

“I wrote to them.

 

He leaned forward, staring at me.

 

“When?”

 

“Around the time of your 21st birthday, Sebastian. And to Shirley and Mitch. My letters were returned to sender, unopened. I assumed they’d either gone away or…”

 

I didn
’t need to finish the sentence. He let out a lungful of air in a long sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath for a very long time.

 

“So, you did try to contact me?”

 

“Yes and no. I wanted to believe that you’d gone on with your life and I didn’t want to… disrupt anything. That’s why I tried to contact Shirley and Mitch. I wanted to find out if my approach would be a positive thing – or not. When my letter was returned…”

 

I looked up at him
. His expression was skeptical and I felt both hurt and annoyed: he didn’t believe me.

 

“Everyone said I should just
forget about you,” he said, his voice deep with regret. “As if that was even possible. I tried to find you, Caro, but I didn’t know your surname – your unmarried name – and the only person who knew…”

 

Was my ex-husband
.

 

“I left messages everywhere I could think of,” he continued, quietly. “I asked the new tenants at your house,
at Shirley and Mitch’s, and Donna’s – I asked them to forward any mail to me… I guess that didn’t happen. Fuck, Caro, we would have been…”

 

He couldn
’t finish, his voice becoming choked and indistinct. I noticed his hands were shaking slightly as he took a long drink of his wine.

 

“You thought I
didn’t care.”

 

He shrugged. “I didn
’t know what to think at first. Later… yeah, I guess I thought you’d… moved on.”

 

I sighed. “I did move on, Sebastian: I had to. When those letters came back… and even before I sent them, I thought you
’d be better off without me. I suppose I hoped that your life would be… different. More like Ches’s. I guess that explains why you were so unpleasant the last few days.”

 

He winced and looked apologetic.

 

“Shit, I’m really sorry about that. It was just such a fucking shock. I didn’t know what to think. It sent me into a real tailspin.”

 

“It was a shock for me, too, Sebastian, but I didn
’t behave like a dick.”

 

He
glanced at me, surprised, then gave a small, contrite smile.

 

“Not your style, Caro.”

 

His smile faded and I could tell he wanted to ask me something, but wasn’t sure if he should. I could probably guess…

 

I leaned back i
n my chair.

 

“Just ask me, Sebastian.”

 

He blinked a couple of times, then shook his head slowly, an admiring smile lifting his lips.

 

“You
’re so fearless, Caro, I love that about you.”

 

His words caught me by surprise, leaving me
speechless. Again.

 

“I was wondering… if you were seeing anyone.”

 

Yes, that’s what I’d thought he was going to ask.

 

“No,
I’m not.”

 

He seemed to relax one degree. “But
you were? I mean… since…”

 

“I dated a couple of times, but no, there was nothing serious. Besides, I travel too much to sustain a relationship. And I definitely don
’t want to get tied down again.”

 

He frowned
, but didn’t comment.

 

“What about you? Any significant other?”

 

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fuck, no!”

 

I raised my eyebrows. “That
’s not what I heard.”

 

“What? What did you hear?” he said, almost angrily.

 

I was rather taken aback by his tone, but as we seemed to be going for broke…

 

“About your CO
’s wife – in Paris? Maybe it was just gossip.”

 

He grinned wickedly. “Oh, that. Guy was
a first class bastard – he deserved it.”

 

I shook my head in admonishment.
“And did she ‘deserve’ it? His wife?”

 

“Yes, she did.”

 

I hated to see such an ugly expression on his beautiful face.

 

“And
the possibility of getting court-martialed and thrown out of the Corps… that didn’t matter to you either?”

 

He shrugged arrogantly. “I don
’t give a shit.”

 

I didn
’t like this aggressive, macho-bullshit side to him. I decided I’d done enough strolling down memory lane for one evening.

 

“Well, I think I
’ll call it a night now, Sebastian.”

 

His startled expression met my cool one.

 

“Don’t go, Caro! We’ve only just started talking again. You haven’t finished your wine, you…”

 

“No, I
’m tired.”

 

I started to stand but he laid a restraining hand on my thigh.

 

“Caro, I really want you.”

 

What?
He was unbelievable! Why was I even listening to this crap?

 

“For God
’s sake, Sebastian! We have one civilized drink together and you think I’m just going to fall into bed with you?”

 

“You used to.”

 

I felt like I’d been slapped – and I really, really wanted to hit him.

 

“How dare you!” I hissed.

 

The realization of what he’d said and how I’d interpreted it sank in, painting his face with disgust. At himself, I hoped.

 

“I didn
’t mean it like that,” he said sullenly.

 

I stood up to leave and he grabbed hold of my hand.

 

“Caro, wait! Shit! I’m sorry.”

 

I shook
him off.

 

“Sebastian, we can
’t just roll back the last ten years and pretend it never happened. Too much has happened – too much time has passed.”

 


Come on, Caro, don’t say that.”

 

“Good night, Sebastian.”

 

I didn
’t bother with the elevator – I needed to burn off some of the angry energy that coursed through me. I couldn’t help feeling that his clumsy pass was some sort of attempt to punish me – to add me to his list of conquests so he could reach some closure maybe, seal shut the door to his past.

 

Just when I
’d started to feel…

 

No. Not going there. Definitely not going there
.

 

To add insult to serious
irritation, there was still no news from my editor. I stormed around my hotel room, finding insignificant jobs to do, then hammered out more emails to Jenna and Alice as an attempt at distraction. It was a futile attempt.

 

I didn
’t know what the hell was going on with Sebastian. Some moments I thought I could sense the presence of the sweet boy he had been, whose thoughtfulness and kindness had swept me off my feet, as much if not more than his physical presence. But at other times, I saw nothing more than a bitter and predatory manwhore whose primary aim was to bed as many women as possible, and whose primary weapon was his ridiculous good looks.

 

I was half expecting
him to come knocking on my door again, and I had a few choice phrases on standby, but the corridor was eerily silent.

 

Annoyed with myself, annoyed with him, I flung myself into bed and spent a sleepless night fighting with the duvet.

 

Before dawn, I gave up and headed to the hotel’s pool, swimming a few dozen laps before other guests arrived to make it unpleasantly crowded.

 

I staggered out of the pool and wrapped myself in the
bathrobe provided by the hotel, before padding back towards my room.

 

Rounding the corner,
I heard his voice before I saw him, his angry tones echoing down the corridor.

 

“For fuck
’s sake, Caro! Can we please just talk?”

 

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