Chapter 14 Monroe
MONROE
Jace would be here in thirty minutes, and I was a ball of nerves.
I had been that way all day, barely able to teach my math classes.
I kept thinking about him. About how he’d called me, panicked, before his centrifuge test. I worried all day if he’d passed.
I’d even texted him to find out, but I hadn’t heard back.
Nevertheless, he was letting his guard down, and for someone like Jace, that was huge.
Ethan came into my room as I stood in front of the mirror. “Mom, you look great. Where’s Jace taking you?”
I smoothed my hands down my black jeans. “We’re hanging out here. I’m ordering Chinese.”
“I’m off to the football game with Brad and his parents. Are you sure you and Jace don’t want to come?”
My heart squeezed at the invitation and that he’d actually included Jace.
Smiling through the mirror at him, I adjusted my green ribbed T-shirt over my belt. “Not tonight, son. I would rather not drive an hour to the game and back. But I’ll have some leftovers for you.”
Ethan leaned against the doorjamb, his brown eyes soft. “You’ve been really happy since you’ve met Jace, Mom. You really like him?”
I pivoted on my heel and padded over to him. “I do, son. He has qualities I value in a man. He’s a gentleman. He’s kind. Can be cocky, but he makes me feel special.”
Ethan straightened, whisking a hand through his brown hair, glancing down at me. “Did Dad ever make you feel like that?”
I placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “At one time, yes. But I can see you’re worried about me, and you don’t have to be. I have to take a chance on love again, no matter if it works out between Jace and me or not.”
“I’ll always worry about you, Mom. I hate what Dad did to you, and you deserve to find someone who will treat you with love, kindness, and the respect you deserve.”
I leaned away, grinning like a proud mom. “How did you get to be so philosophical about relationships?”
“Sabrina. She’s been my rock.”
“She’s a keeper,” I said, grateful that he had someone to talk to about the divorce and that he was experiencing his first love.
A car horn blew outside.
He kissed me on the cheek. “Got to run. Have a good time. Oh, and remember I’m staying at Brad’s tonight. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. I love you.”
“Right back at you,” I shouted before the front door closed.
I had a few minutes before Jace arrived. So I made quick work of ordering the food and tidying up the kitchen. By the time I was done, it was one minute past six. Jace should be here any minute.
I ran into the living room and flipped the switch on the gas fireplace. The food wouldn’t be here for about forty-five minutes, so Jace and I had plenty of time to have a glass of wine and chat.
I pulled out a bottle of red from the wine fridge, popped the cork to let it breathe, then grabbed glasses from the cabinet.
I busied myself while I waited, but my sanity began to slip more each minute Jace didn’t show. I checked my phone. No messages. The clock on the stove read seven p.m.
I called him. The line went straight to voicemail. After leaving a phone message, I also texted.
Me: I just called but wanted to follow up with a text. Is everything okay?
The doorbell rang.
I rushed to answer and yanked open the door, expecting to see Jace, only to find a delivery driver holding a bag of food. My stomach soured despite the delicious aroma.
The young man in the red polo shirt waited expectantly for his money while I stood there like a zombie, wondering where Jace was.
Trying to calm my nerves, I paid the delivery driver then set the food on the counter in the kitchen.
Where was Jace?
I pressed a hand to my stomach, taking in deep yoga breaths before I poured a glass of wine. Alcohol would temper the nerves.
But one glass of wine turned into two as seven turned into eight.
My mind became a firing range with all kinds of thoughts shooting left and right. Maybe he’d gotten into an accident. Maybe he’d changed his mind about us. Maybe he’d gotten hurt from his centrifuge test.
I paced the kitchen floor, staring at my phone like I could will a text from Jace. He didn’t strike me as irresponsible or forgetful. But my worry began to melt into anger.
This is what you get for opening up to another man in uniform. You swore you wouldn’t do this again.
I chugged a gulp of Pinot Noir down like it could solve my problems. Fear and anger commingled until I couldn’t tell which hurt worse.
Trying not to freak out, I sat on the couch, debating what to do as tears blurred my vision.
Go to the base and find him.
But now that I was divorced from Ryan, I no longer had a military ID. Besides, hunting Jace down might make me look like I was a crazy woman. Above that, I’d been drinking. So getting behind the wheel was out of the question.
I sat on the couch and sent off one last text.
Me: Just tell me you’re okay.
At nine thirty, my phone dinged. My heart jumped a mile before sinking like a ten-ton brick when I saw the text from Lila.
Lila: I know you’re probably having a great, steamy time, but call me when you’re free. I want all the details.
I should’ve laughed. Instead, I cried like a baby as I called her.
“Monroe?” she answered on the first ring. “Shouldn’t you be snuggled up to that hunk of a man?”
“He never showed.”
Dead silence.
I sniffled. “I left him several voicemails and texts. I’m worried. I’m pissed. I’m a mess. Why do I like men in uniform? Why am I so worked up to begin with? I only met him two weeks ago.”
“Because you’re falling for him,” she said softly.
I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, angry at myself for getting so invested so quickly.
“Monroe?” Lila’s voice sounded distant. “You still there?”
“Yeah,” I choked out.
I wanted to deny that she was wrong, that love played no part, but the ache in my chest told me otherwise. Somehow, the cocky flyboy had slipped past my defenses, and now, I was paying the price.
“Do you love him?” she asked, insistent on hearing me say the truth.
“I don’t know. Yeah. No. Argh! I’m pathetic. I’m thirty-four, not sixteen.”
The wine was making my head fuzzy, but the hurt remained crystal clear. I curled deeper into the couch, pulling the throw blanket over my legs.
“You’re human,” Lila corrected. “Did you talk to him recently?”
“This morning.” I stared at the glass of wine on the coffee table. “He was on edge about his centrifuge test. I know his recent G-LOC freaked him out, and I couldn’t even imagine. But surely, he couldn’t have gotten hurt in a centrifuge machine. Could he?”
“If he blacked out, maybe. Or you know military personnel sometimes get called in for things or emergencies and have no time to alert anyone.”
“Don’t make excuses for him,” I said, though part of me desperately wanted to believe there was a reasonable explanation. “I’ve been down this road before.” My voice cracked. “Ryan always had reasons too.”
“Now, don’t jump to conclusions.”
I laughed, albeit nervously. “How can I not? I trusted Ryan, and look where that got me.”
She sighed, sounding exasperated. “I’m tired of saying this, but I will again. Jace is not Ryan.” Her tone was snarky and caustic.
I took a sip of wine. “I just told Ethan not to worry about me, and here I am bawling like I just lost my damn heart again.” A sob broke free. “Why does Jace’s silence feel like a goodbye?”
“I’m coming over, and don’t think to tell me no.” She hung up before I could answer her.
I wouldn’t have protested anyway. I needed her. I needed her to talk me down off the ledge I was teetering on. Because as much as I wanted to find love again and as much as I believed Jace was the one for me, I couldn’t go through another heartbreak.