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"You talk in your sleep, you know?" Luke's voice finally makes me give up on trying to sleep.
I turn in my seat and look at my best friend. He's driving, and I'm right beside him. His blonde hair looks bleached in the afternoon sun. The sunglasses on his face hide his eyes, but the crinkles by the sides tell anyone who cares to notice that he laughs a lot. He looks like a young pop star in a boy band, but the aging lines on his forehead reveal his secret—he's 40 years old.
"I'll never understand why you always insist on driving. That's why we have the drivers," I say to him, my voice still throaty from my sleep—or lack of sleep.
"Same reason you've opted to oversee a construction project in a small town even though you're a fucking New York-based billionaire. Sometimes, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, and what I want to do is drive myself."
"Language."
He leaves a hand on the wheel and covers his mouth with the other hand in mock remorse. "Sorry, Ruby."
"What's that, Luke?" Ruby asks.
I look behind at my five-year-old daughter. She's strapped into the seat, her tablet in her hand. I can see the colorful bricks of Candy Crush, and for a second, I remember Deanna—my deceased wife and Ruby's mom. Deanna, with her blonde hair and bright smile, used to love Candy Crush, too.
"Don't worry about it, sweetie. Luke's just being an assh—" I catch myself. "A jerk. Luke's just being a jerk."
"What's an assh, Dad?"
Luke throws me a glance; I can see his laughing blue eyes behind his sunglasses. Asshole. I keep my eyes on Ruby. She's a split replica of her mother. Her straight, blonde hair is in direct contrast to my wavy, dark hair, and her blue eyes are unlike my dark eyes. Still, you only need to look at her to know she's my kid.
"Assh is, uh," I stammer, "what's left after a fire. When something burns completely, you call what's left ash or ashes."
Ruby isn't paying attention to me anymore. Her fingers slide across the screen as she mashes candies together. I watch her for a moment, content to stay and do nothing but watch her.
"Nice save, Dad," Luke laughs.
"Shut it, asshole." I keep my voice low.
The journey continues in silence. We're almost there—my wife's childhood town. I'm not looking forward to running into my in-laws. They hate my guts; honestly, I don't blame them. I'd hate me, too, if I were in their shoes.
"You are unusually quiet, Luke."
"Thanks for the insult. I guess I'm the talkative one, yeah?"
"If the shoe fits."
Luke and I have been friends for years. We met in college in our first year. I was a computer science student, and he was in business school. We became instant friends and roommates in our second year. After college, I started my Artificial Intelligence company, Pixel. I brought Luke on to take care of the business side while I handled the tech aspect. It was a match made in heaven.
Until I had to become a soldier…
"I just realized you still haven't told me about the construction project in this town, uh, Rooks? Brooks—"
"New Brooks."
"You still haven't told me what the project is, and that's unlike you. Since when did we start keeping secrets?"
I look out the window. The trees outside form a rhythmic pattern, contrasting the chaos of war with the nightmare in my mind. I close my eyes and reopen them. The smell of pine lingers in my nose, and I know we're almost in town.
"I'll tell you, Luke. But it isn't time yet."
"How long will you be here for? It's North Carolina, for God's sake. There's nothing to do here. It's going to be boring as shi—" he catches himself, "as crap." He rolls his eyes at his choice of words.
"Maybe boring is the best thing for me right now."
"Well, it's not like we go out to have fun anymore back in New York. The last time we went out was the masquerade party, which was over." He stops to think. "Jesus Christ, that was over a month ago, Tristan."
Her masked face crosses my mind. The dark hair with strands of white. Her flowery smell, the way she laughed, the way she wrapped her fingers around my co-—
