Page 3 of Carnal

2

Grant

I scrubbedher scent from my chest, and my heart pounded, threatening to burst with rage. “How did you know?” What the fuck kind of response was that? It wasn’t a response. It was resignation. It was acceptance. It was her forfeit. She said she didn’t think she would be able to hide what she was doing from me, but there was that look in her eyes. Mia was always like a damn open book to me, and I knew . . . knew by that look she thought I would never find out.

It was probably the reason she let me fuck her the way I had. It was raw, passionate, and uninhibited, which was exactly how I’d always wanted to fuck her. It was incredible, best I’d ever had.

And I couldn’t get enough.

But I had to remind myself that Mia was an actress, apparently an excellent one. I regretted now not taking the time to fully encourage her to pursue her dreams when we were together. She’d supported mine. Mia had been the one to take care of me every night after BUD/S, dress my wounds, rub my feet, and cook me dinner, but I hadn’t attended a single one of her plays.

Ever.

I’d had my reasons. I was always training; too focused on my goal of becoming a SEAL. Looking back now, the young and stupid version of me was a selfish ass.

It was too late now.

The water beaded down my chest and a memory flooded my head. Of the last night she had been mine.

Mia stood in the hospital door. My palms were sweating, nervously clutching the small, black velvet box in my hand. I had worked up the strength to finally leave my bed, kneel before her, and ask her to be mine forever.

Her long brown hair shone in the bright lights, and her sundress clung to her body. She looked different than usual. Her breasts seemed fuller, her face rounder, her skin brighter.

She was glowing.

“Come here, babe.”

She gave me a halfhearted smile, and her teeth clamped down on her lip. Why was she acting nervous? My excitement turned to worry. “I . . . Grant, I-I need to tell you something.”

My gut clenched, but I forced the word out. “What?”

“I’ve decided to transfer to San Francisco State. They have a better theater program, and I can do shows with A.C.T.” Her voice cracked with emotion. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

She was breaking up with me.

My hand released that stupid box, a box that contained a ring that was worth three months of my salary including hazard pay that I earned while being shot at by the Taliban.

“What the fuck? Are you serious right now? You’re breaking up with me?”

She bit her lip, and I knew she was about to lie to me. “No. Of course not. We can still see each other when I’m in town and you can come visit me.”

Fucking bitch. My face, neck, and ears burned. “You want a long distance relationship? Wasn’t Afghanistan far enough?”

Her hair hung over her face like a curtain, shielding her from making eye contact. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say what you mean, god dammit. That you’re breaking up with me. Tell me fucking why? Tell me why you think that breaking up with me while I’m in a fucking hospital bed is a great idea, Mia? Fucking look at me!”

She turned her head and gazed out the hospital window. “Don’t make this harder than it is. I love you; you know that.” Her voice cracked and her throat bobbed. “Every night during your last deployment, I was a worried wreck about you and Joaquín. I constantly lived in fear that you would be killed. You’re injured. You could’ve died. My parents died, and it broke me. I can’t bear to have my boyfriend be killed also. And I’ve never been on my own. I moved here when I was seventeen to live with Joaquín and then I became your girlfriend. I just need some space to find out who I am.”

“Space? So you are breaking up with me. You’ve had nine months of space! You’ve had nine months of ‘long distance’.” Rage consumed me. How could I have been so wrong about her? I’d never been more sure about anything in my life. Why was she doing this to me?

“It’s for the best.” Her words were a whisper, but I heard them as loudly as if she has screamed them at me.

I used my strength to get out of bed, grab her by the arms, and stare into her eyes. “What is it, Mia? You’re not telling me something. You would never dump me to transfer schools or because you needed space. You love me, and I love you. We’re meant to be together. Your mine, fucking mine. I see it in your eyes when we make love. I hear it in your voice when you call me. I fucking know you. Why are you doing this? Please just be honest with me.”

She paused and stepped toward the door with tears staining her face, and one hand clutching her belly. “No, Grant, you’re wrong. I’m not hiding anything. I just don’t want to be with you anymore.”

And before I could hobble after her, she gave me a final glance and walked away.