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“Admit it. It was the sushi.”
When she laughs, I glance over, her dark hair shines in the sunlight, framing her beautiful beaming face. “Are you saying I’m not a badass?” Her sass reminds me of the day we first met. It’s definitely grown with her.
“No, you’re a badass. You have amazing pepper spray skills.”
She pokes me in my bicep. “Don’t you forget it.”
The restaurant is small, ten tables sit close together. Two waitresses and a waiter move from table to table, dropping plates piled high of noodles or rolls. The waiter notices us first when we walk in. “Welcome, please, find a seat anywhere,” he says in a strong Italian accent. When I look around the crowded room, I spot only one empty table.
“How about that one,” I jest, pointing to it.
“That one is perfect.”
Throughout dinner, I catch the owner who I thought was a waiter, frequently glance at me. So often, it’s distracting me from dinner with Ellie. Finally, he wanders over and says, “I thought you looked familiar.” He waves his hands around. Here we go. “And then I remember I read about you.” He pulls out a rolled-up magazine from his back pocket, his tan leather skin opening it and shoving it in my face. “This is you, right?” It’s a cover of Society Magazine and in bright red letters says, ‘American Hero’ with a picture of me wearing the medal, the weight of it heavier than the dead brother I carried back to the helicopter.
I hate everything about that picture.
I glance at Ellie and her smile touches her eyes. Even though she's excited, it does nothing to calm my resentment. I nod, expecting the validation alone will be enough. Instead, his arms flail around more, and he adds an excited noise. By then the entire restaurant is looking over.
“Can you sign it for me?” he asks, placing it in front of me with a Sharpie. I hate that people sensationalize this. There is nothing glorifying about this. “I want to add it to my famous wall.” He points to a wall with at least fifty black framed pictures with autographs of famous people. I don’t belong on that wall.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. We're here trying to have a quiet dinner.” I pick up the pen and cap it, handing it back to him.
“I don’t mind,” Ellie says, cheerfully.
“I do.” My voice is flat, and it pisses me off more when she jerks her head back in surprise. I curse under my breath. “I need a minute.” The chair scrapes across the floor and I brush past the owner. “Excuse me,” I snap over my shoulder and walk out the door.
My feet pound the pavement, pacing back and forth. Everyone read the damn article. Everyone knows we didn’t all come back alive. But do they care what I went through to get that medal? Is there any compassion in their eyes when they meet me. Hell no. They only want a piece of fame. The exact fame I didn’t ask for. I glance up from the ground when I hear the door open from the restaurant. Ellie tilts her head as she walks over.
“You okay?”
“I didn’t mean to screw up dinner.”
“You didn’t. We were finished, anyway. I’m more worried about you.” She places her hand on my bicep.
“I’m fine. I don’t like how people act all star-struck when they recognize me. I’m not a movie star. I’m a SEAL. I was doing my job. The mission was successful, but I’m not a hero. If I was a hero, I would’ve left there with my whole team alive.”
“Oh.” Her voice softens with understanding. “I wish I knew what to say to make it better.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I pull her into me and kiss her. Her sweet taste suppresses any bitterness left in my mouth. “See, already feeling better.” The anger is fading, but the guilt I can’t control burns inside me. Letting this fester inside me isn't healthy. I need a better way to manage it. The ocean is calling my name. The one place I can let go of everything and refocus.
“Let me go pay so we can get out of here,” I say, walking toward the door.
She yanks on my arm, stopping me. “I already paid.” My smile drops and she shrugs as I stare at her. “I didn’t think you’d want to go back in there.” People pass us by, walking toward the park. My jaw tightens as I breathe through the anger of letting someone who wanted an autograph ruin my dinner. Just sign the damn thing next time. “Kase,” she says, grabbing my chin so our gazes are locked. “I’m a modern woman. I’m okay with paying sometimes.”
“I’m not.”
“I would hope you’re not a modern woman,” she jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“You know what I mean. I can promise you that won’t happen again.”
“Cowboy, it’s not like I’m poor and you’re a millionaire. I can pay sometimes.”
I’m an asshole for not being transparent. The hidden truths need to stay hidden for a little longer. “Ellie,” I say, firmly. “I pay. End of story.”
She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Fine. Now that we’ve established you’re stubborn and old-fashioned, let’s go, or we’ll miss the movie.”
She grabs my hand and tugs for me to walk. “It surprises me you’re just now noticing.” I squeeze her hand and the sweet smile she flashes reminds me of when we were younger. Innocent. I’ve wondered if my obsession with her is only because of our past. If the love I had for her is blinding me. At the same time, I can’t stop thinking of her. She fills my dreams, my thoughts, my wants and needs. I’m falling in love with her all over again. I’m falling in love with Ellie.
