Page 51 of The Truths We Find

“Hey, baby!” he yells. It’s loud from all the military planes behind him.

“Hey! I’m so glad you called. I was worried I wouldn’t hear from you today.” I make my way to a quiet corner away from the entrance so I can hear him better.

“We’ve been doing double patrols the last few weeks. It’s been crazy over here. I only have about two minutes to talk, but I have the funniest story to tell you. My buddy Snapper⁠—”

He’s cut off by the sound of a slot machine alarm going off in the casino down the hall.

“Babe, where are you?” he asks.

“Vegas.”

“Why are you in Vegas?”

“Are you serious?”

“You and Alexa having a girls’ weekend?”

“Sam, it’s the Emmy Awards tonight.” My voice grows in anger. “I told you the date the moment we got nominated and reminded you every call since.”

“No, you didn’t. Are you sure? You’ve been forgetting things a lot lately, haven’t you?” His tone is soft, almost teasing.

“Are you fucking serious? Of course I did. This is the biggest night of my career. There’s no way I wouldn’t have told you.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” he says, slow and deliberate. “I get that it matters to you—but are you maybe… blowing this out of proportion? It’s not like it’s the real Emmy Awards. Honestly, Dani, I don’t even know why you’re so worked up over this. You’re making it bigger than it is.”

I can feel my blood boiling. I try to inhale, to steady myself, but it’s useless.

“Sam, I remember every damn thing you’ve told me these past few months. Even when Snapper ran naked through base camp because he found what he thought was a scorpion in his bunk, and it turned out to be a food wrapper.”

“Ha! Classic Snapper,” Sam laughs as if I just told a joke.

“And yet,” I grit out, “when I tell you about the most important moment of my career, you twist it. You make me feel like I’m imagining things. You don’t say ‘good luck’ or ‘I’m proud of you.’ Instead, you make me question myself and then dismiss it like it doesn’t even matter.”

“Dani—”

“No! I can’t believe it took me this long to see it. This has always been one-sided. I’m always here for you, but the second I need your support, you’re gone—or you make me feel insane for expecting anything from you. This is control, Sam. You enjoy making me doubt myself.”

There’s a pause, and I can hear him adjusting, his voice deceptively calm. “D… I have to go. But maybe… try not to take it so seriously. Just… go do your thing, and we’ll talk next call.”

“No. I’m done.”

The line goes quiet for a moment.

“Is this about Gavin?” Sam growls.

“Seriously? No, it’s not about him. For the first time in a very long time, I’m putting me first. My needs. My wants.”

I hear them give the two-minute warning for the start of the awards.

“Sam, I have to go. Please, stay safe. You know I will always care for you. But I know this is the right move—for both of us.”

“This isn’t over, Dani,” he snaps.

“When you get back stateside, we’ll talk if you want, but I don’t see my decision changing. I need to go. Be safe.”

I hang up before he can get another word in.

Nine years. Gone. I should feel shattered. Maybe I should cry, scream, throw something. But instead, an unexpected lightness spreads through me. The weight I’ve carried for so long is gone. I can finally breathe. If tears come, it will be from relief, not heartbreak. I shake off the lingering tension and step back toward the ballroom, ready to enjoy the night waiting for me.