3
Gunnar’s fingers flexed against Julie’s waist, his skin tingling against the contact. She had changed little since the last time he’d seen her. The years apart had only made her more beautiful. Her light brown hair hung long down her back. Red rimmed her hazel eyes like she’d been crying, just like they’d been the day he’d left. His heart clenched and his brow furrowed.
Could he fix what had made her sad?
Swallowing, he dropped his hands like the contact had burned him. He couldn’t help her. He’d killed that chance seven years before when he’d foolishly crushed their love and friendship with his selfishness a second time.
“Gunnar.” Julie’s voice shook as she took a step back.
He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. Her hand trembled as it rubbed her cheek. He hated that he made her nervous, but his heart flipped at her bare ring finger. Not that it meant anything. Lots of women didn’t wear wedding rings.
“You okay?” He inwardly cringed at the loaded question that she could take any number of ways.
“Yeah. You just startled me, is all.” She glanced down at the dog next to her, then lifted her face to him. “So, you on leave?”
“No.”
“Oh. You’re out of the Air Force then?” Her words held a hesitancy that tore at his heart.
“Yep.” Speak, dummy! String two, preferably more, words together. “I retired last year.”
“That’s… great.”
She didn’t sound thrilled. In fact, if he was a betting man, she wasn’t excited about seeing him at all. He’d secretly hoped if they ever saw each other, they could patch things up, but, like so many other things his decisions had destroyed, it was obvious their relationship was one of them.
Loneliness like he’d never felt before hit him in the gut like a well-placed jab.
“You here for the Quest?” See, he could hold a conversation.
“Nope.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well, I’m exhausted. It was good seeing you.”
The platitude rang hollow, as fake as her forced smile.
“Yeah.” He wanted to say more.
Wanted to tell her he’d missed her every single day since he left.
To beg her to forgive him for ruining their friendship.
Before he could drum up the courage, she stepped around him. Her soft footsteps faded down the hall. He should go after her. He turned to watch her leave. Maybe he could convince her to have breakfast with him? Catch up for old time’s sake. She couldn’t hate him so much that she wouldn’t do that, could she?
The memory of the two unopened letters she’d sent to him forced its way to the surface of Gunnar’s scrambling thoughts. They burned a hole in his conscience, just like they had burned to be pulled out and opened from where he’d kept them in his pack for the last seven years.
She opened her door and disappeared inside, never once glancing back at him. The quiet click of the door shutting caused Gunnar to flinch. He hung his head, tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t deserve a minute of her time, not after what he’d done. It was better to just let things go. It was what he’d done all those years ago. He couldn’t expect to change that decision now.