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I laugh, because it’s easier than crying. “I don’t know what I’m doing, either.” And then, because he didn’t take the pass, I make myself not take it. “That’s not—okay. Here’s the true one. I do know how to do this. I know exactly how. You make yourself the guy they can’t afford to lose. You watch every back in the room so nobody clocks that nobody’s watching yours.” I clear my throat, because it feels uncomfortably tight. “The Army at least let you fall apart where it was dark. You don’t. I fell on a grenade this morning, and I’d do it again tonight, and that’s the part that’s wrong with me, not you.”
His voice is gentle. “You’re still farther along than I am. So maybe we can figure it out together. But please, Levi. I mean it. I’d fall to pieces without you. Also, I can’t get the money back for your birthday present and that would really suck.”
“My birthday’s not for three weeks.” I rub his foot. “Can I guess what it is?”
“Yes. In November.”
“Is it jewelry?”
“No.”
I rub the arch. “Is it cookware? Because we really need to talk about your frying pan situation.”
“No!”
“Is it…bigger than a breadbox?”
“Oh, my God, it’s underneath the nightstand. Just get the envelope and I want you to think about what you’re spoiling on your birthday when you have nothing to open.”
I bolt from the couch and have to move the nightstand. “That’s a really great hiding place!” I call back into the living room.
“And now I have to find a new one!” he says.
He’s still rolling his eyes when I come back into the room. I hand it to him. “Can I open it?”
“So as a reward for not leaving me, you get a gift? If you want that, there are cookies in the cabinet.”
I sigh and give it back. “I got carried away. I’m sorry. You didn’t have to get me anything. You got me you and that’s enough. I won’t trade you in.”
He sighs and shoves the envelope at me. “Okay, Kitten. Open it. Now. I’ve had a really shitty day and frankly I need to see something good.”
“You sure? I really can wait.”
“You’re practically dry-humping that envelope. Just open it.”
I slit it with my Swiss Army knife. There is a card inside that reads, For my beloved husband on his birthday and a printout.
I stare at the printout and then look at him. “What is this?” I manage, because I can’t catch my breath.
“You said you thought it was too late. So I wanted to make sure it wasn’t too late.”
“To have flying lessons,” I finish. I have to look away and the tears slide out.
“It’s just with a Cessna at the Fairhaven Municipal Airport. So it’s not exactly like you’ll be piloting a 747 heavy out of JFK.”
“Hold on. I need to do something.” I put my phone on speaker. I reach the voice mail. “Sir, this is Sergeant Knight. I regret to inform you that I won’t be reenlisting. Thank you for your time.”
Then I put the phone facedown on the arm of the couch.
“Say it,” Bastien says.
“I’m not leaving. I’m sorry I even thought of it. I’m an idiot.”
“Yes, you are. Jesus Christ, are you going to kiss me or am I going to prompt you to do that, too?”
I laugh and cover his body with my own. He wraps his arms around me. I work my fingers into his pants.
The doorbell rings.
