A/N: I love that someone has finally noticed (or at least brought it to my attention that they've noticed) that Julio has appeared in my Plum universe before in A Matter of Perspective. He has a slightly different backstory, but he's still mostly the same guy.

A/N 2: Just found out email notifications are out again, so double check that you're caught up on chapters.

February 6, 2013

"That last mission was rough on all of us," Smith said as we gathered in the meeting room. "But we're Rangers. We've seen it all, even if this was some of the worst. Once your physicals and papers are done, I don't want to see any of you until the twenty-fifth at 0700. Dismissed."

No one lingered once we were dismissed. We'd been gone for five months, and even the guys who didn't have partners and children waiting for them couldn't wait to get back to their rooms and relax for the first time since September. Unlike in my last life, I had someone waiting for me this time.

Julio had officially separated from the Army at the end of the year and was living in an apartment near Fort Benning. After giving him my power of attorney and opening a joint bank account, he had the responsibilities of finding a place, buying furniture, and getting moved in while I was deployed. I had gotten updates via pictures sent through email and Skype calls where I got a tour of the place. It was nice to know I had a home to come back to, especially after the week I'd just had.

It was raining heavily as I left the building and spotted Julio's car waiting for me. I felt the knot in my chest loosen slightly when I got close enough to see him through the windshield. I tossed my bag in the back before climbing into the passenger seat next to him.

"Welcome home, soldier," he said, grabbing the front of my jacket to pull me into a deep kiss, which I returned with equal enthusiasm. I doubted anyone could see us through the windows with the rain and the wipers, but I also didn't care.

"I've missed you," I said, eyeing him once we had pulled apart. "Did you wear that just for me?"

Julio was wearing a tight gray t-shirt and dark wash jeans that hugged his ass nicely. They were my favorite things to see him in, second only to my PT shorts.

"You know it. Gotta look sexy for my man if I don't want to lose you to some blonde with big tits."

"I'm more of an ass man," I said. "And I'm a big fan of yours."

"I know. That's why I'm wearing the jeans."

It took us almost an hour to get back to our apartment after retrieving my car from the storage lot and then collecting my belongings from the barracks. I left a few items behind, like extra clothes and equipment, so I didn't have to transport so much back and forth. There would also be times when training would run so late it made sense to crash in my barracks because I'd have to be back to work in a couple of hours. But almost everything else would be at home with Julio.

Our apartment complex consisted of two, two-story buildings with thirty-two apartments in each. Apartments were set up in pods of four around a shared covered exterior stairwell. I wasn't thrilled about the lack of a secured entrance, but it had been recently updated, was in a quiet neighborhood close to Fort Benning, and within the strict budget we'd set for ourselves. Julio insisted I needed to stop being so paranoid, and I'd come to the conclusion that he was right after looking up apartments that met my preferred criteria and found them out of our price range or too far from post to be worth the drive.

Julio's mother had helped him move into the new apartment back in January. I could see her touches in the throw pillows on the sofa and the framed pictures on the walls but knew he had kept her influence in check since her taste was vastly different from our own. I had seen it in pictures, but it was still different to experience the place in person. The entry way opened to the combination living room and dining room with a closet along the dividing wall with the kitchen. A gray sofa and two matching chairs were arranged around an oak coffee table. A flat-screen television stood on a matching entertainment center along the wall and a circular dining table with four chairs sat in the corner by the bedroom door. A sliding glass door across from the closet led to the covered balcony that overlooked the parking lot.

We kicked off our wet shoes and headed towards the bedroom with boxes in hand. The bathroom was located off the bedroom along with a walk-in closet. We set down our boxes and I took in the space around me. A king-sized bed with a dark cherry headboard and storage underneath took up half of the small room. Matching nightstands and table lamps flanked the bed and a four-shelf bookcase sat in one corner alongside a comfortable-looking brown armchair and matching ottoman. A cherry desk and black swivel chair sat against the window, holding Julio's laptop and printer. Maybe it was the comfort of being surrounded by things that were obviously Julio's, or maybe it was the presence of the man himself, but the place already felt like home.

Once we were in dry clothes, we ordered a pizza and set to unpacking my meager possessions while Julio told me about his new job. "Are you sure it isn't too much? We would have been fine until you can get licensed," I said.

"I was bored. I can only study so much. Besides, the clinic already said they'd hire me as a PTA once I get my license."

Julio's training in the Army hadn't been enough on its own to get him licensed as a physical therapy assistant in the civilian world, but an online bridge program had helped him get the required degree before leaving the Army. Now he just had to sit an examination and get his license. I had told him to focus on his studies and not worry about work, but he had gotten a job working the front desk at a physical therapy clinic within two weeks of moving to Georgia.

"I really like the clinic," he continued. "They're a pediatric rehab like the one I worked at in Bragg. It doesn't feel much different, except for the whole civilian thing."

"How are you handling it?" I asked. "It's a big adjustment, even if you're in a similar job."

"It's different, but I'm not complaining. No one is randomly inspecting my room and I don't have to worry about my hair cut. I'm glad I joined the Army, but I'm glad to be out too."

I knew that feeling. I'd felt it the first time around. I wasn't sure what I felt this time. This deployment had been rough in both lives. At least this time I'd stayed out of the grasp of Vlatko, so he wouldn't be wandering the earth with one eye and a desire to kill me. But the mission I'd been desperate to change had gone down exactly as it had the first time. I hadn't slept well in the week since it happened and my efforts to keep it compartmentalized were starting to wane.

"I can't wait to be done," I admitted. "It's hard doing all this a second time."

"Were you able to change anything?" he asked as he started breaking down the boxes. "You said you had a couple of missions you were hoping to fix."

"I changed one thing, but not the other. That mission happened exactly the same and was even worse to watch a second time."

"What was it?"

I gave him a knowing look. "You know I can't tell you."

Julio rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Security clearances and all that shit, but you can still tell me some things without risking national security."

I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to repeat the story to anyone ever again. I didn't want to put that in his head and have him sleep with it at night the way I did.

"I'd rather not," I said. "I don't want to think about it right now."

"Whatever it is, it's eating you up," Julio said as a knock of the door announced the arrival of our dinner. "You haven't smiled once since I picked you up."

"I didn't realize I ever smiled much," I commented once he had returned with the pizza in hand.

"You do when you're with me," he replied with a smirk. "We can play Army tonight. You lie down and I'll blow the hell out of you."

His words sent a chill down my spine, though not for the reasons he intended. Instead of imagining myself being pleasured by him, I could only see the gory devastation from my last mission. Refusing to succumb to those feelings on my first night home, I pushed the images aside and kissed Julio ferociously once he'd put the pizza on the counter. It was cold by the time we finally got around to eating it.

Despite the crushing weight of the failed mission, I kept myself in check over the next week as I finished my post-deployment tasks and started my two-week leave. Julio had to work but had places he wanted to show me and people he wanted me to meet. Unlike me, who had lived in places for years without knowing my neighbors, Julio had already made friends at his job and in the apartment complex. He told me about restaurants he liked and where he did the grocery shopping. I was careful to show that I cared about what he was saying without showing my lack of enthusiasm for anything outside of the apartment. I managed to hide the fact that I couldn't sleep from him since I was able to resist the urge to toss and turn, but the dark circles under my eyes weren't getting better and he would eventually start asking more questions. He had suggested getting together with some of his new friends, but I'd asked if we could just spend my leave together and save meeting new people for another time. He had agreed, but I could tell he was disappointed.

The following Friday night found us sitting in a local bar and grill called 68 X-ray, so named because 68X was the Army MOS code for a mental health therapist and some people considered the bartender their therapist. I had heard Kinsey talk about it but hadn't ventured this far into Columbus to explore restaurants. I typically stuck to the chow hall or whatever was on post. Julio had been there since moving to Columbus and had several recommendations. He ultimately chose the pork chops with fries and okra. I ordered a spicy chicken pasta dish.

"They have live music on Fridays," Julio told me once the waiter had brought our drinks. "It's usually pretty good."

"How many Fridays have you been here?"

"Three. This makes four. I came here by myself the first time. The second and third times were with Jenny and Mike from the floor below us. You'll like them."

I trusted Julio's taste in friends. What I didn't trust was my tolerance level for new people and the questions they ask. The live music gave me an excuse not to talk much over dinner. After eight days of trying to be a good boyfriend and not think about work, I wasn't sure how much more I could manage. I assumed Julio would want to stay to listen to the band's entire set, but once the bill came, he paid it and stood to leave.

"You didn't like the band?" I asked once we were in the parking lot.

"I did. I could tell you don't want to be here, so I figured you'd rather go home." His tone wasn't annoyed or passive-aggressive, but I still felt guilty. He had probably imagined a much happier man coming back to him after five months overseas, and I couldn't blame him. I had hoped to be that guy.

"I'm going for a run," I said once we were back at the apartment.

"Now?" Julio asked with a glance at his watch. "It's after eight."

"I have a reflective vest and a light," I assured him.

I went into the bedroom and changed into workout clothes under Julio's scrutiny.

"Why are you going for a run now? We just ate dinner. Why not go tomorrow?" he asked from the doorway.

"I want to go now," I said as I tied my shoes. "I won't be gone long."

"I'll go with you," Julio said, making his way toward the closet. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"I'd rather run alone."

"Why?" His tone and body language had immediately become defensive.

"I just need some space to clear my head."

"You can clear your head with me. You can tell me what the hell is wrong with you. Because you're freaking me out."

I ran the hand that had been resting on his chest down to his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll be fine. It's just rough adjusting to being back. You don't need to worry about me."

"Yeah, I bet a lot of guys say that before they go blow their brains out or jump in front of a train," Julio said.

That caught me off-guard, and it took me a few moments to find the words to reply. "I'm not suicidal."

"Okay, so then why can't you tell me what's wrong? You know damn well how to tell me something without going into the classified details."

I focused on my shoes and took a few deep breaths. I couldn't tell him everything because I didn't understand it myself. What I did understand I didn't want to share because it wasn't something anyone should have to hear. He didn't get it because he hadn't been in active combat. Even during deployments, he was back at the base working in the medical clinic. He wasn't out getting shot at or watching people get blown up. He saw people recovering from those things, but only after they'd been patched up. He couldn't understand.

"Julio, I promise I'm not suicidal. I just need a run, and I need it alone," I said.

Julio shook his head and gave an annoyed huff before turning to go back to the living room. I pushed down the annoyance I felt at his reaction and finished getting ready. He was sitting in the living room flipping through channels on the television when I headed to the door.

"I'll be back in an hour," I promised. No response. Not even a glance in my direction. I felt something in me snap and clenched my fists so tightly I heard my knuckles crack.

"This is why I don't want to talk about it," I informed him. "You're pissed off just because I won't tell you what happened. You wouldn't last an hour in my job, Julio. You couldn't live with the shit I've seen." I turned on my heels and left before I said anything more.

I lost track of time as I ran through the city. I didn't know Columbus well, but I had already mapped out a few different paths I could run when I was at home and didn't want to work out on post. This one was a ten-mile circuit with half of it being along the Chattahoochee Riverwalk. The air was cool but not cold, and I set off at a steady pace. Normally a run calmed my mind, but tonight I couldn't shut it off. I kept thinking about the mission, all the times I'd tried to get Smith to change the plans and all the reasons I'd given. My last desperate attempt had simply been to claim a gut feeling. I'd had to force myself to watch the scene, knowing that the bomb Orin had planted under a pressure plate by the gate to the house wouldn't blow up the terrorist leader we were targeting. Instead, his three young children, aged twelve, seven and five, were the ones who triggered the bomb and were killed in his place. No one said a word as we waited for the man to return, knowing we still had to kill him and raid the house for intel despite having watched three children get blown to pieces. It had been brutal to live through the first time. This time had been agonizing.

My head started clearing from the mission as I ran along the Chattahoochee River, but it didn't make me feel better. What it did was show me the other stuff that had been bothering me. Tomorrow was my father's birthday. It had been over a year since I'd last spoken to my parents. My mother had called and emailed me several times in those first few weeks. Her voicemails and emails were all the same: give up this craziness and go to church. You aren't gay. You can't be gay. What will people think? This is a sin. Grandma Rosa is heartbroken. I wasn't one to make New Year's resolutions, but my resolution for 2012 had been to block her number on my phone and her email. I couldn't take listening to and reading her rejection repeatedly. If she ever changed and decided to accept me, she would find a way to let me know.

My father still hadn't said a word about the subject to anyone, preferring to ignore questions by changing the subject or leaving the room. Jaime had yelled at Julio and called him a fag when he told him about our relationship. He then told him that they were no longer father and son. At least Julio knew where he stood with his father. I had nothing but silence, which was more painful than my mother's rejection.

"Where were you?" Julio demanded the second I walked through the door. "You said you'd only be gone an hour."

I glanced down at my watch and winced when I saw the time. I'd been gone almost an hour and a half.

"Sorry. I took a longer route than I planned and lost track of time."

I could see the anxiety behind his eyes despite his efforts to hide it and knew he'd worried about me the entire time, which had surely intensified as the hour mark came and went. He headed back to the sofa without a word and picked up the book he had been reading.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, following him to the couch. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Julio kept his eyes on his book and a muscle worked in his jaw.

"I couldn't wait for you to come home," he said. "Couldn't wait for us to live together and get to see each other every day. It's only been a week and you act like you can't stand being here. I get that your mission went badly, but why is that my fault?"

"Babe," I began, reaching over to put a hand on his leg while I figured out what to say and how to say it. "I'm sorry. You've been great, and you don't deserve this. It isn't just the mission. My dad's birthday is tomorrow, and it got me thinking about my family. It's hard not talking to them, but it's worse because my father still hasn't said a word about it. I feel guilty because of the rift in my family, even though I wouldn't change a thing. I love you, and I'm glad to be home with you. I had a rough time after this deployment in my last life too but didn't have anyone around to worry about it."

"I know you don't think I can handle it, but I can," he said. "I don't think it's good for you to keep it all pent up."

"I'm sorry I said that because it isn't true. If you want me to tell you, I will."

Julio watched me for a moment before answering. "I do."

I spent the next ten minutes telling him about the mission and the ways I tried to change things. He asked the occasional question, but otherwise listened without interruption. I noticed as I talked that some of the tightness in my chest started to ease. It felt like going to confession. I knew he would never tell anyone what I said, and I appreciated that more than I could ever tell him. I'd never had anyone in my last life that I could talk to like this. Not even Stephanie. It hadn't been her fault. I just never wanted to show anything that might be considered weakness.

"You did your best. The only things you could have done would have been to attack someone or tell them the truth, which would have landed you in jail or a psych unit, and even that may not have changed it," Julio assured me, rubbing my back. "You can't fix everything."

"I know. I just don't like to admit it."

Julio pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. "Maybe you should leave your unit," he suggested. "Do something different for the last year so you don't lose your mind. Teach RIP courses or something."

I shook my head. "I'll be okay. I need to see this through. I want to stay with the unit and make sure Orin gets the help he needs. He does something insane during one of the last missions we're on and no one reported it last time. I'm going to this time so he'll get a psych eval and then discharged. If he doesn't get sent to Afghanistan, he won't get a head injury on top of whatever else he has going on and decide Kinsey and I should die for breaking up the unit's divine protection."

"Divine protection? He says that shit and it isn't enough to get him fitted for a psychiatric tuxedo?"

"The other men in the unit don't think much of it. I didn't either last time. We all know he's nuts, but he's a good man to have on our side. There are several missions still coming up where his work is critical."

I wouldn't have to report him if I could guarantee he would die in Afghanistan this time, but that was impossible and not worth the risk of him surviving again. I would have no way of keeping tabs on him until he got too close for comfort.

"If you're gonna stay, can you at least promise to talk to me and not do this shit again?" he asked. "If I wanted to guess what someone was thinking all the time, I'd date a woman."

"Yeah, I will," I said. "Can't have you leaving me for women."

Julio snorted and pulled me to my feet. "Yeah, right. Look, I know you're not in the Navy, but can you pretend I'm a submarine and fill me with seamen?"

I laughed for what felt like the first time in a year. "I think you're the one who needs the psychiatric tuxedo."

"It made you laugh, so it's worth it," he said, pulling me in the direction of our bedroom.

Julio knew all the neighbors in our four-apartment pod. A recently divorced man in his mid-fifties named Nate lived across the hall from us. Julio had spoken to him twice, and said he was nice, but dull and long-winded. Julio made note of his routine and knew what times he left and arrived home from work each day and always checked the peephole in the door before leaving, especially if he was in a hurry because once Nate started talking it was hard to get away. I'd gotten in the habit too, simply because I had no interest in talking to what sounded like a depressed version of the most boring man on the planet. A retired couple named Rob and Bonnie Lewis lived in the unit directly below us. They divided their time between Tampa and Columbus where each of their sons lived with their families. They had been friendly enough until they learned Julio's partner was a man. They weren't rude, but Julio said they weren't as warm as they had been initially.

Jenny and Mike Jones lived across from the Lewis' and Julio had met them the day he moved in. He and Mike struck up conversation about Julio's move to Columbus and quickly discovered they were both from Chicago. Mike's wife Jenny was a Georgia native and had wanted to move back to her home state after graduating from DePaul with a degree in elementary education. Mike worked for the city in the Street Maintenance department while Jenny taught fifth grade at a nearby school.

"We're supposed to be at Jenny and Mike's at six-thirty," Julio said as he got dressed for work on Wednesday. "I told them we'd bring dessert. I'll grab something at the store on the way home."

I was sitting in the office chair writing on the large desk calendar. "I can do it," I offered.

"I trust you with my life, not my dessert," Julio said. "You'll get some healthy shit."

I ignored the jab and gestured for him to come over. "This is my schedule. P stands for prep weeks. Those are long days, but I'll be home every night. T is for training weeks. You may or may not see me much those weeks. R is for recovery weeks. Those are shorter days with normal schedules. And then the cycle starts over again. If you want to make plans for us, recovery weeks are the best time. Check with me on prep weeks. Training weeks are a no-go."

Julio nodded his head as he flipped through the calendar. "You're at NTC almost all of April?"

"We've been picked to help with training. We're the terrorists, so we're blowing things up and trying to sabotage missions."

"So doing the things you already do, just to other American soldiers?"

"Exactly."

I'd gradually started to feel better in the days since telling Julio about the mission and my feelings on my family. I was finally able to sleep again, which had probably played a big role in the matter. But I was supposed to meet up with Kinsey and Tank for a workout today, and wondered if it would bring everything up again. Last time Kinsey had gone to visit family for a week, and I'd been alone in our rooms ruminating. That mission had caused me to lose faith not just in the job but in the unit. It hadn't seemed like anyone other than Kinsey or I had been bothered by the way things had gone so badly. When Kinsey returned, he wasn't feeling any better than I was. He had been due to sign a new contract but was no longer sure he wanted to do it. I convinced him not to re-enlist, told him I was leaving when my contract was up, and with that we had started the process of breaking up the group. I wasn't sure whether that conversation still needed to happen with Kinsey. Even though the mission had gone the same way, Kinsey had been different. He had noticed me making suggestions to change things and had been supportive of delaying when I said I had a bad feeling about the mission, citing my history of bad feelings about stuff that had worked out for the better when we'd followed my supposed instincts. Smith was the squad leader and it was ultimately his call. He'd thought my concerns were unfounded and said we were going ahead as planned.

I headed towards Benning at nine not sure what to expect when I arrived. I found Kinsey in the common room. He had bags under his eyes but was trying to act normal.

"What's it like living my dream?" Kinsey asked as we headed towards the gym.

"I didn't realize you had a thing for Julio.

Kinsey snorted. "Honestly, I might be willing to bat for the other team if it got me in a nice apartment off post."

"I heard a rumor that women are allowed to get their own places these days, so that may not be necessary."

"I keep striking out," Kinsey said. "Just when I think we might be getting somewhere, she either hates my work schedule and breaks up with me or I find out she has twenty-five stuffed animals with names and zodiac signs that live on her bed in a specific order based on seniority."

I raised an eyebrow. "That was very specific."

"She was a specifically weird person."

"You talkin' about the stuff animal woman?" Tank asked once he joined us. "Didn't she make you take notes on all their names?"

"Yep. She told me she'd give me a couple of weeks to study before quizzing me. I tossed the list as soon as I got out of there and blocked her number. Does Julio do any weird stuff like that?"

I thought about it. "He likes to read and wants to talk to me about books. He likes this series about a wizard who lives in Chicago and has a talking skull named Bob. I zone out after a while."

"See that sounds interesting," Kinsey said. "I could do that. I'm not sure about the sex part, but I could just close my eyes."

The three of us didn't talk about the mission while we exercised, and I wondered whether I should talk to Kinsey today about re-enlisting. Deciding I would shower at the barracks before leaving, I followed Kinsey back to our rooms and waited while he grabbed his shower kit.

"How are you doing?" I asked. "And don't tell me you're fine. I have suitcases smaller than the bags under your eyes."

Kinsey shrugged. "Smith should have listened to you. If he had, those kids would be alive."

"I know. This mission just confirmed what I already knew—I'm done with the Army once my contract is up."

"Me too," Kinsey said. "I was going to re-up, but not now. Not just because of Smith, but the whole damn unit. Tank, Morgan, and Harper act like it's not a big deal that three kids got blown to pieces by us. And fucking Orin probably enjoyed it and just has enough sense not to say that out loud."

"And he's another problem. Once we're done with our last mission as a unit, I'm telling Smith he needs to get Orin's head examined, and if he doesn't do anything, I'll bypass chain of command and report to the Captain before I leave."

Kinsey let out a low whistle. "Better you than me."

I arrived home at noon and spent the rest of the afternoon doing laundry and cleaning the apartment until Julio got home. He had picked up a cheesecake and strawberry topping to take to dinner with the Jones'. He changed out of his work clothes into jeans and a t-shirt before we made the fifteen second commute downstairs.

Julio knocked on the door of apartment 4A and we only had to wait a few seconds before the door opened to reveal a petite brunette in khakis and a blue sweater.

"Hey Julio," she said in a sweet southern drawl. "And you must be Carlos." She stepped aside and ushered us in before closing the door. Their apartment layout was a mirror image of ours and decorated in a way that left no doubt that a woman was in residence.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Jenny continued as she took the cheesecake from Julio and walked it to the kitchen. "He talks about you all the time. He's so proud of you. When he first told us about you, I thought he might be making you up. You sounded too good to be true."

"What exactly have you been saying?" I asked. Julio nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.

"The truth. That you're in Special Forces, you're sexy as hell, smart, and a good person. You are sort of too good to be true."

"Did he mention that I have terrible social skills, he thinks I'm a control freak, and that he doesn't trust me to pick up dessert?"

Jenny laughed as she bent down to check something in the oven. "Except for the dessert thing, yes. Why doesn't he trust you with dessert?"

"He eats like a rabbit most of the time. Salads and grilled chicken and fruit as a snack," Julio said with a sad shake of his head. "He brings the looks and the muscle to the relationship. I bring the social skills and junk food."

"That's what I say about us." A man with a shaved head that I presumed was Mike stood in the doorway to the bedroom. "Only she's the muscle and the looks."

Mike Jones was maybe 5'5", which still made him about three inches taller than his wife. He was freshly showered and wearing an open flannel shirt over a gray t-shirt and jeans.

"I'm glad you're real," Mike said. "I was worried he was being catfished like that show."

"They've known each other since high school. How could he be catfishing him?" Jenny asked her husband with an eyeroll and a headshake. "Honestly."

We mingled for a few minutes while dinner finished in the oven, discussing Columbus and the apartment complex. They had lived there for two years and planned to stay at least another two while saving up to buy a house.

Dinner was a frozen sausage and pasta dish in a spicy marinara sauce, garlic bread, and salad. I noticed Jenny and Mike pouring themselves glasses of wine and they asked us if we wanted some. We declined the wine and settled for water, and I gave him a questioning look when the couple were distracted bringing the food to the table.

"I haven't told them yet," he whispered. "I didn't want that to be one of the first things they knew about me. Dropping the whole I'm a recovering alcoholic line can bring a nice time to a screeching halt."

"You haven't been drinking, have you?"

Julio glared at me, and I put my hands up in surrender. "Just checking."

"I'm not such a fucking weakling that I can't be around people having a glass of wine without falling off the wagon," he hissed. "You can have one, you know. You aren't the alcoholic."

"I gave up alcohol to be supportive of you, not because I think you're weak."

The conversation was cut off at that point when Jenny and Mike reappeared with the rest of the meal. Conversation flowed easily around the table as we ate. I could see why Julio like them. They were good people who were just living their lives in the world. Jenny was debating whether to go back to school for her master's degree in education, which would dictate when they decided to start a family. Mike was hoping to get a different job with the city that involved less time spent in the elements, and said he wasn't smart enough to go to college or he would. Jenny reassured us that he was intelligent enough to go to college, but he didn't believe in himself.

We discussed our respective jobs and when the focus turned to mine, Julio suggested increasingly ridiculous ways that I might have been trained to kill someone. Jenny had tears rolling down her cheeks after a while.

"I don't know how you live with him," she said. "He's constantly making me laugh."

"I've been vaccinated," I replied, which made her laugh even more.

"Liar. I make him laugh when I use dirty pick-up lines on him," Julio said.

"Only because they're ridiculous and you catch me off-guard with them."

"What kinds of dirty pick-up lines?" Mike asked. "I might need to take some notes."

Julio leaned back in his chair and considered the ceiling for a minute. "Do you work for the city?" he asked Mike, who nodded. "Because I'm looking to get plowed."

Jenny and Mike laughed, and I shook my head. "Don't encourage him."

"Here's one for Jenny to use," Julio said, ignoring me. "I'm like a little toe. I'm cute and small and you'll be banging me on the coffee table later."

Mike threw his head back and laughed. "That's a good one."

"I think I'm too innocent for these," Jenny said. "Where did you get them?"

"Online. I have a list going."

"The more important question is do they work?" Mike asked.

"Do I get laid? Yes," Julio said with a grin. "Every time."

"Not every time. The first time you used one on me was in a video chat," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but I still saw you a few days later. It was just delayed."

We said goodnight to Jenny and Mike at eight-thirty and headed back to our apartment.

"What did you think?" he asked once we were inside. "They're nice, right?"

"I like them. But I'm not getting too attached to people or places. We'll be moving back to Miami in a year and a half, then to Trenton the year after that. It's hard enough to be away from people we knew before."

Julio grimaced. "Do we really have to go to Miami? Can't we just stay here until we go to Trenton? Or better yet, work it out so Stephanie gets a different job, and we can just go back to Miami?"

"Every time I try to make a major change, it blows up in my face and ends up worse than before. I'm not risking it," I said. "Besides, I need to work for Vicente to get the bond enforcement background so I can make myself appealing to Vinnie when we get to Trenton. He hadn't wanted to hire me because I wanted twenty percent of the bond, so I had to show him I knew what I was doing and would always get my guy. I'm afraid he won't give me a chance if I haven't had the experience."

Julio heaved a sigh and headed towards the bedroom. "I'll barely be done getting licensed to work here in Georgia when it'll be time to move, and I'll have to get licensed in Florida. I won't have to sit the national exam again, but I'll have to do the state one and go through the whole process just to then move again in a year and start all over in New Jersey."

"I have to get licensed to do bond enforcement in Florida," I said, following him into the room. "And that's nothing compared to the process I'll go through to open my company in a few years, especially operating in different states."

"Yeah, I know, I don't get a say in any of this," Julio sneered. "I keep forgetting my life is dictated by whatever Stephanie Plum is doing."

I stopped in the process of undressing and stared at him. "What's the problem? We've talked about all this before. You knew my plans before we got back together. Are you mad because I asked you if you'd been drinking? I wasn't trying to insult you."

Julio slammed his dresser drawer shut. "No, I'm not mad about that. Yeah, I knew about your plans, but I thought maybe us being together might change things a little. I know you want to look out for her, but don't I ever get a say?" he asked. "I get that you're the one who knows everything that happens in the future, but that doesn't mean everything has to go the same way. Didn't you ever stop to think that maybe Stephanie stayed in the job because she knew you'd be there to help her? If you weren't there to train her or save her ass constantly, maybe she'd give up and move on to something else."

I shook my head. "You don't know Stephanie. She's determined and she'd just keep at it because she would want to believe she could do it on her own. She'd just get herself killed faster."

Julio mumbled something I couldn't hear. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," he muttered. "I'm gonna take a shower."

I finished stripping out of my clothes and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt. What was wrong with him? We'd just had a nice dinner with his friends and now we were fighting. Despite his denial, I was pretty sure he was pissed off that I asked him about his drinking. I hadn't doubted him, but figured it was a good idea to check in with him since we were going to be around people drinking alcohol. Our friends and family had been supportive of him and refrained from serving alcohol when we were all together. I had no idea how much he had been around alcohol since he quit drinking and wanted to make sure he was okay.

He came to bed fifteen minutes later without a word or a look in my direction. He picked up his book and sat in bed reading for twenty minutes before closing the book and turning off his light. I stared at his back for a few minutes, hoping he would roll over. I could tell he wasn't asleep, but he clearly had no intentions of talking to me. I was missing something, but what?

I woke up naturally at five and decided to call Grandma. Despite her semi-retired status, I knew she would be awake. She was the only other person I could talk to without censoring a huge part of the story. I took my phone out to the balcony and sat in one of the chairs to call her.

"I'm surprised to be hearing from you so early. I thought you were still on leave," she said.

"I wanted to talk to you before you got busy. I need some advice." I launched into the story of what happened with Julio the night before and my confusion as to why he was suddenly mad at me.

"He took you to meet his new friends, and the first thing you say after dinner is that you aren't getting attached to anyone because you'll be moving again soon. You completely dismissed him and made him feel like what he wants doesn't matter."

"That isn't true."

"Isn't it? You're the one calling all the shots, Carlos. Yes, I know why, and so does he. But he's also right that you need to consider that things are different whether you want them to be or not. He moved there to be with you instead of going back to Chicago or coming to Miami. He's making friends because he knows you'll be busy and there will be times when you're gone, and he'll be alone. You basically told him last night that it doesn't make sense for him to get close to anyone because he'll just be following you wherever you go and being friends with whoever your friends are."

I watched a car pull out of a parking spot across the lot and drive down the lane towards the road. I didn't talk again until it was out of sight.

"I didn't think of that," I admitted. "I do care what he wants, and I want him to have friends so he won't be alone when I'm gone. I'm not very good at this. You can probably see why I stayed single so long in my last life."

"You are capable of being a good partner, Carlos. You have to stop assuming that you have all the answers just because you know what's ahead. And you need to remember that not all of the changes you've made went badly. Unless you consider being with Julio a bad thing."

I winced. "Of course not."

"Then make sure he knows that."

I climbed back into bed with Julio five minutes later. His alarm was due to go off in two minutes. Not that he would get up. It was the first of three pre-wake up alarms. He said he needed to hit the snooze button three times before he could get up and this helped fix that without making him late. I waited until he was awake to reach across him and turn off the alarm on his phone.

"I'm sorry about last night," I said when he looked in my direction. "I'm glad you're making friends, and I do care about what you want. Maybe I can figure out a way to do bond enforcement in Miami so I only need to be there a couple of days a week and we'll keep living up here until we go to Trenton."

Julio gave me a once over and reached over to hold my hand. "I'll go wherever you go. I just want to feel like I have a say in our life, you know?"

I nodded. "I know. And you do. Don't ever be afraid to tell me what you want."

He nodded and leaned over to give me a quick kiss. "We have ten minutes until my real alarm goes off. Why don't we pretend you're a termite and I'll give you a mouth full of wood."

Someday I would stop laughing when he did that, but this wasn't the day.