Jack hopped into his pickup and turned the key. He was tired and bleary eyed. It was the middle of the night and he wondered why the hell he was going home but he needed to get out of the base, even if for a little while. He had had a disturbing conversation with Carter and wanted desperately to put the whole thing out of his mind. The cop asked her to get married. He hadn't thought it would come to this – he was good at deluding himself.
Now why would any sane man want to get married? Okay he did once but he was free now. And he was happy living alone, set in his ways, no one to answer to. He didn't have to hurry home, make excuses, apologize for unintended slights or hop to someone else's schedule – he had enough of that with the military.
He could do what he wanted when he wanted. He could eat pizza and drink beer seven nights a week, parked in front of the TV if he wanted to and leave the mess until he was good and ready to shovel it off into the trash.
He could drop his clothes where they fell as he shed them.
He did miss his wife when he reached into the dresser and there were no clean socks, his floor littered knee deep with dirty ones.
He could sleep on the couch in his clothes if he wanted and not bother to make a bed.
He could do what he damned well pleased when he damned well pleased.
Jack pulled into his driveway and felt a chill of memory tinged with sadness.
He missed his wife when he came home and there was no one there, no one to greet him, no one to wait up and give him a hug and a peck on the cheek, no one happy to see him.
He missed opening the door to the smells of a home cooked meal, the sounds of conversation, music or laughter, the warmth of a family awaiting him for their completion.
He missed her knowledge of his moods.
He missed a sounding board for his thoughts.
He missed a partner who shared his past, formed his present and built for their future.
He missed his wife when he climbed into bed cold and alone.
He missed her acceptance, her encouragement, her knowledge of him and gave him love and respect not withstanding.
He missed the warm arms and soft loving body and her knowledge of his.
He missed the intimacy of sharing your hopes and fears with someone you trusted beyond words even if he rarely availed himself of the luxury. The luxury of her utmost trust and forgiving heart.
He missed someone who forgave his faults while encouraging him to be a better man.
He missed the rhythm of a normal life although so little of his was normal. He was an admitted adrenalin junkie but craved the normal as a balm to his soul. Isn't this what this war and his life, for that matter, was all about – a peaceful world so we could all live normal lives. And this is what he wanted with Carter but she was looking elsewhere. He felt rejected even though there had never been any commitment between them. It hurt but he was a big boy. Things had hurt before – a lot worse things and he survived and he'd damn well get over this.
He didn't need any more complications. He didn't need anyone. He liked his life.
Liar his conscience shouted.
He missed the familiarity of her voice, her moods, her warmth, her scent, her touch,her body. He didn't think he was wholly thinking about Sara nor wholly thinking about Carter nor should he be think about either of them.
There was a certain sweetness to life then , a certain comfortable reliability. Now all he could rely on was a cold empty house with an empty refrigerator and an empty cold bed. All his own and all alone.