Brodie’s head turned toward her slightly, but he still didn’t turn around. “Please stop,” he whispered.
But Kristen had found her resolve once more, and she was determined to tell him everything, unwilling to risk eternity never knowing what might have been. “I don’t know how you feel… but I don’t believe what we’ve shared was just stress or fatigue. At least it wasn’t for me.”
Brodie’s back was still to her, and she took a tentative step toward him, wishing he would turn around. Kristen could hear his heavy breathing now, and she saw his head shaking slowly. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but continued. “I’ve spent my whole life wanting nothing more than to be on a submarine, maybe command one someday. But now…” she hesitated, taking a breath as the reality of the feelings she had for this man were finally allowed free reign. She felt an almost refreshing release from the years of self-imposed emotional bondage, “But none of that matters anymore.”
“Don’t say that,” he replied in a voice still barely above a whisper.
“It’s true,” she admitted freely. “I’ve already drawn up my resignation,” she informed him. “I plan on submitting it to COMSUBPAC upon our return to Bremerton.”
Kristen had learned from watching her fellow officers on the Seawolf how difficult it was to be in a relationship as a submariner. The situation was intolerable at best. Submariners were either deployed overseas or training stateside constantly, leaving little time for family. But if the two of them were to ever have a chance, she felt it only logical for her to give up her career. It no longer mattered to her anyway, and he’d reached the pinnacle of his. It would be crazy to ask him to give it up.
Brodie stood silently, but she saw his hands clench into tight fists.
“Please turn around,” Kristen whispered helplessly. She’d exposed her heart to him, and now that the truth was out, her greatest fear lay before her: his denial.
Brodie hesitated another moment before he turned slowly. But instead of seeing the loving eyes and hearing his own profession of affection, she saw his eyes were hard and cold. Then, as he spoke, his tone had a hard edge in it, “Have you lost your mind?”
Kristen blinked a few times. She felt a sudden spasm of pain deep within her. “I had to tell you.”
Kristen watched, desperately wanting to see the warmth in his eyes again. But the steel grey eyes were as cold as an arctic blast. “I…” he paused. She thought she briefly heard his voice waver, but then he continued, his voice once more steady, “It was the stress,” he assured her. “Nothing more.”
Kristen blinked a few times, not believing him. She’d felt it. She’d felt it in his arms. She’d seen it in his eyes. She remembered every detail of every second they’d shared. She could still taste the sweetness of his lips. She could smell his scent and hear his heart beating alongside her own. Her memory allowed her to forget not the slightest detail.
“Nothing?” Kristen asked in disbelief.
“Nothing,” Brodie responded coldly, without any hint of emotion in his voice. “I regret any confusion, Lieutenant. But there was nothing more.”
She stared blankly at him.
He was lying.
He had to be lying.
She recalled the dim memory of him carrying her to Gibbs’ coffin rack, their moment on the sail in the Tsushima Straits. She could see his face, the love in his eyes. But he turned from her, and stepped away.
“You’re lying,” Kristen uttered to his back. “Tell me why you’re lying, please.” She felt her tears welling up in her eyes as the pain within her grew. It felt like he was ripping the heart out of her chest.
He paused, his back still to her.
“I know you love me,” Kristen told him. “I know it.”
He hesitated, and she could see the broad shoulders struggling; they seemed to almost tremble. “You’re mistaken,” he replied slowly.
Kristen bit her lip, not understanding why he was denying it. Had she been wrong? She was new to love. Could she have misread the signs? “Turn around and tell me to my face,” Kristen insisted. “Say it to my face. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t care for me.”
His head lowered slightly. His shoulders and arms tensed. Then, after what seemed like hours of struggle, but was only a few moments, he once more turned his head slightly. “I don’t love you,” he said flatly.
He then walked away, leaving her in the empty torpedo room with the shattered remnants of her heart strewn around her on the floor.
Chapter Thirty Four
Kristen was in maneuvering when the Seawolf returned home. Whereas everyone else had been anxious to be topside to see their waiting loved ones, Kristen had asked the XO to take her off the bridge crew. He hadn’t argued with her request, and she wondered if Brodie had told his old friend of her profession of love in the torpedo room a few days earlier. Regardless, being around Brodie was now pure torture for her. She couldn’t trust herself to even look his way in the wardroom, and she felt like a complete emotional wreck every time she saw him.
Tears were something she hadn’t experienced in over fifteen years. There’d been a time when she hadn’t believed it possible to cry. But since that awful moment in the torpedo room when he’d walked away from her, she’d learned just how quickly her tears could come.
The Seawolf pulled back into her berth at Pier D without incident, and Kristen supervised the powering down of the reactor and the transfer to shore power, officially ending her first patrol. She knew it would be a patrol never to be repeated. The Seawolf was the current topic of discussion among everyone familiar with the submarine service. The officers and crew were living legends in Bremerton, and she soon learned the crowd on the pier waiting to welcome them home contained dignitaries, crews from other submarines, and numerous flag officers besides the families waiting for their loved ones.
But Kristen knew no one would be waiting for her. Her paternal grandparents were far too frail to make the journey from southern California. Her mother?
The thought almost made her laugh.
No, Kristen reminded herself, she had no one.
She caught a glimpse of Brodie in the passageway, walking with two admirals including Beagler, along with Brodie’s replacement. He was a forty-something, salt and pepper haired commander nursing a small spare tire around his waist. Brodie led them forward to the wardroom where they could begin the changeover process. Kristen knew Brodie was already packed; all of his possessions fitting into a single sea bag and one clothing bag. Both of the bags were already resting on the deck of his cabin.
They’d not spoken again since their meeting in the torpedo room, and she could hardly bring herself to imagine ever speaking with him again. Her own feelings hadn’t changed, and her love for him seemed only stronger after his denial. But the grim reality made her love now bittersweet. The fact she still had her career was little consolation. Without him in her life, she would have no life at all, and her career would be hollow and marginally satisfying at best.
Kristen left the submarine. It was warm on deck, and it appeared Bremerton was enjoying an early spring. She was once more in her khaki uniform with her recent decorations added to her modest display of meaningless ribbons and the worn gold dolphins displayed proudly as she’d promised him when he gave them to her. Carrying her bag, she walked ashore and took the duty vehicle to the Combined Bachelor’s Quarters, where she returned to her old room.
Her first order of business was to make phone calls to her family. She spent nearly an hour talking with her grandparents, promising to come and see them during her upcoming leave. Her conversation with her mother was much shorter; lasting less than two minutes after her mother explained she was on her way out the door when Kristen had called. The balance of the afternoon was then spent in her room, shedding more tears and struggling to come to grips with the loneliness that surrounded her.