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I remember you.

Tyler came flooding back to me like his touch broke a forget spell.

I knew this man. I knew the way he smelled and tasted. I could recognize his moods in a single word. I remembered the look in his eyes when we made love and the smile on his face in the morning when we’d lay in bed talking, sharing a pillow. I recalled the pain of kissing him goodbye at the airport and the emptiness when he left.

I remember.

He looked at our hands like it hurt him to touch me. His eyes moved back up to mine. “It’s been a sucking void, Kris. Like some black hole that keeps getting wider and wider. You’re the thing that I look forward to. The reprieve in the middle of whatever bullshit I’m dealing with. I have conversations with you in my head. I store things up to tell you. For the last two years, I’ve been on a countdown of nothing but you, living my life in the days between our talks and my leave.”

He paused and studied my face. He was painted in regret and sadness.

“I messed up,” he breathed. “I should have never done it. I should have just come home.”

I let out a long breath. “And then you would have just resented me.”

Fuck, was there no scenario in which a man could just be with me without having to give up on the one thing he wants for himself?

At the rate I was going, the only way I’d end up with someone for the rest of my life was if I choked on some queso and died on a first date.

Our food came, and we ate in silence. I stared at my plate, and he stared at me. When the dishes were cleared, my anger had officially run out. I replaced it with guilt.

“Tyler…”

He looked at me, his eyes hopeful at the change in my tone.

“I am in love with him. I think I’ve been in love with him from the day I met him.”

I didn’t see the need to lie to him. If he was going to be tortured over his choice, I didn’t want him seeing me with rose-colored glasses.

He wiped a hand down his mouth and sat back in his chair, his fist clenched on the top of the table. “I figured,” he said finally, his voice low.

I wondered how he knew. What about me had given it away?

Maybe seeing Josh had given it away.

“Are you with him?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

He looked away from me. “Then he’s a fucking idiot,” he said, his eyes glassy.

“It’s not his choice. It’s mine. And I would be with him if I could.”

He stared wearily at the bread basket. “But you don’t love me?” His eyes went back to mine.

I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I think a part of me was with you because you weren’t really real, you know? You weren’t here to deal with my shitty periods and get sexually frustrated like the boyfriends before you. You didn’t want kids, so my issues didn’t matter to you. Mom loved you. You were easy. And then we decided to make it real, and I was just so freaked out that you were coming home. I was scared to live with you and make that kind of commitment. But then when I saw you today, I…”

He hung on my words.

I let out a breath. “I saw you and I wondered why I was scared. I think I would have fallen right back in love with you the second you came home. But you never did.”

And I needed you to. Because you were the only thing keeping me from throwing myself into the flames.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, they were full of hurt. “And what about him?”

I shrugged. “What about him? I can’t be with him. Ever. He wants kids. So that’s the end of that.”

He shook his head. “This is my fault,” he said quietly. “All of it. I knew something was there with you two. I could feel it. And I fucking reenlisted anyway.” He looked at me, the anguish etched deep in his forehead. “I did this. I practically handed you to him. I was so stupid.”