Finding London, Ellie Wade [different e readers txt] 📗

“Apparently, I’m a selfish prick.”

—Loïc Berkeley

The calm that comes over me at the firing range seems unconventional at best. The soothing comfort is completely at odds with the deadly weapon in my grasp, yet there is something to be said for the routine of it all. I know exactly what to expect during target practice. The sounds and movements of firing an M4 are so ingrained in my head.

I take in a deep breath before pulling the trigger. The tinging of the spent casings falling to the ground paired with the smell of the burned gunpowder engulf me in peace. Hitting my mark brings me purpose. Seeing the holes on the target in the distance rounds off a familiar and strangely relaxing start to my morning.

Here, I know where I belong. Here, I know what I am meant to do.

I’m a soldier.

I train. I take orders. And I complete missions to the best of my ability. Simple.

Although unforeseen circumstances arise out in the field, they seem uncomplicated in the scheme of things. There are orders and protocols. I follow them and do my best.

I like having a clear set of rules. I feel safe, knowing how the chain of command works, how missions work. I’ve trained with my unit, and the group of us works together like clockwork. There are no gray areas.

Sure, especially out on deployment, there are surprises, unexpected events. Even in those though, we have protocol.

With London, there’s nothing but gray. There is no black and white when it comes to women. Relationships are a state of perpetually changing expectations. I’m a barely functioning man when I know what to expect. I have issues for days, and that’s not including my London dilemma.

“Your shooting’s on point, man,” Cooper says beside me as the two of us stare at the targets.

“You, too.”

Cooper’s target of nothing but bull’s-eye shots matches my own.

I bend one knee to the ground and pack up my weapon. Cooper does the same.

“Do you have the brief ready for this afternoon?” Cooper asks, referring to the group I’m leading after lunch.

“Yeah, there really wasn’t a lot to prepare. Captain handed it to me in PowerPoint form.”

“Really? It’s one of those?”

I can hear the disappointment in Cooper’s voice. I can’t help but chuckle. As exciting as being in the Special Forces sounds, it’s not all adrenaline rushes from high-action situations. Most of the days when we aren’t on deployment consist of working out, shooting, lifting, and learning about something field-related. For me, it also includes presenting what I learned about to others.

“It’s not that bad, I promise. Plus, I have lots of stories to liven this one up.”

“Oh, good. The brief that Miller gave last week about the importance of proper reporting made me want to claw my eyes out.”

I laugh. “Wasn’t the hard part listening to it? Shouldn’t you have wanted to complete some grotesque task on your ears?”

“Yeah, but the way he pressed his lips together, squinted his eyes, and nodded after every bullet point—like each little piece of information was so groundbreaking—made me want to hurl a stapler at his head. I couldn’t stand looking at his smug face for an hour straight.”

“You know he looks like that all the time. It doesn’t matter if he’s talking about the chick he hooked up with over the weekend or his mom’s chicken potpie recipe; he has that douche-bag expression on his face. I don’t think he can help it.”

Cooper scoffs, “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t as annoying as fuck.”

“True,” I agree as the two of us pick up our duffel bags of supplies.

We start walking back to base.

“Maggie and I are going to see that new spy movie tonight. Do you wanna come?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You should invite London,” he says, attempting to sound casual.

I can hear the optimism in his voice.

“Nah, that’s okay. I don’t think I’m going to see her anymore.”

“Dude,” Cooper sighs beside me.

“Dude, what? It didn’t work out. End of story. Not a big deal.”

“I don’t believe that. You like her, Berkeley. I know you do. You owe it to yourself to give it a shot.”

“I did. It didn’t work.”

“Then, give it another one.”

“Hold up. Aren’t you the one who said I needed time?”

Cooper waves his hand in the air in dismissal. “Maggie’s right. You’ve had plenty of time. London’s the first girl you’ve been remotely into, and you should take a chance. You don’t want to miss out on something great because you’re scared.”

I decide to ignore Cooper’s effort to goad me into proving that I’m not afraid by trying the dating thing with London again. I answer simply, “Relationships aren’t my deal.” I pause and slap Cooper on the arm. “Speaking of, when are you going to ask Maggie to marry you? You know she’s waiting.”

“I know that you’re trying to change the subject, and this time, I’ll allow it. But we will be revisiting London at some point.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I chuckle. “Maggie?”

Cooper lets out a breath. “I don’t know, man. I’m going to. It’s not like I’m not ready or anything. I just need to get my ass to a jewelry store and then come up with some romantic-as-shit way to ask her. I already feel committed to Maggie. She knows she’s my forever. The ring and marriage just seem like an annoying nuisance, just some hoop I have to jump through to make something that’s already a done deal official.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Regardless of whether or not you find it annoying, I’m telling you that Maggie doesn’t. Girls live for all that.”

“Says the guy who can’t make it past two dates.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” he retorts.

“Blow me, asshole.”

“I’ll pass. Thanks for the offer,” he says with a smirk.

“Maggie deserves the whole deal…the nuisance.”

Cooper nods. “Of course she does. I’m just a lazy prick. I’ll do it soon, okay? Does that make you happy, Loïc ‘I Went on Two Dates and Now I’m the Love Expert’ Berkeley?”

“Just because I suck at execution in that department doesn’t mean I don’t know the rules.”

“But you would figure it out if you just gave it more time.”

“Cooper, enough.”

“All right, I’ll drop it for now.” He changes the subject. “So, love expert”—the tone of Cooper’s voice rises an octave in mock excitement—“do you think I should go with a round diamond or square, tear-drop, or maybe cushion cut?”

“Ha. So, you have been looking into rings?”

“Of course I have. There are just so many choices. It’s tiring.” Cooper drops his shoulders in a dramatic display of exhaustion.

“I think you can handle it.” I chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Toss.

Catch.

Toss.

Catch.

My wrist bends back before the baseball spins into the air above my face. Right before it hits the ceiling, I watch as it starts to descend, falling back toward my bed. I catch it again before it hits my chest.

I’ve been lying in bed, throwing this ball for hours, it seems. This week has been brutal. I’m more fucked in the head than I care to admit. London has me all sorts of confused.

The walls I’ve put up, the bullshit I’ve been feeding myself about not letting anyone in for the past eight years since I lost Sarah—it’s all starting to be too much. It was easy before London, but she’s changed me. She’s different. She makes me different. She makes me happy.

I don’t know. Sometimes, I let myself wonder if it’s all meant to be, even as much as I don’t believe in that shit. But, just maybe, with London, it is.

Her freaking name is London. That has to be a sign, right?

Maybe it’s time I pay my birth name some respect and show an ounce of strength and courage to fight for the life I want. Closing oneself off and hiding from the world is the cowardly move. It’s the easy path.

What’s the point of living if I’m constantly hiding from possible pain?

But I realize that my feelings of apprehension are more for London than they are for me. I can’t guarantee her forever. With my issues, chances are, at some point, I will hurt her. I know that there is a risk of getting hurt in any relationship. It just seems that London will have a higher one with me. I feel selfish for wanting to ignore that gamble to be with her anyway.

There’s a small knock on the door.

“Come in,” I call out.

“Hey,” Cooper says by way of a greeting. He leans against the doorframe, taking me in. “So, this London chick has really done a number on you, hasn’t she?” He smiles, looking pleased. “I have to say, I wasn’t sure I would see the day.”

“You and me both.”

“So, what’s the issue, man?”

“I’m the issue, Coops. You know that.”

“Who cares? So, you have a messed up past. You have a few issues. Who doesn’t? No one is perfect. You’re kidding yourself if you think anyone is. You have every right to be just as happy as the rest of us, Berkeley.”

I throw my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I don’t guess. I know, brother. You’ve been dealt some major shit in this life. You, above all, deserve to be happy.”

“I can’t change who I am, and if I could, it definitely wouldn’t be overnight. I don’t want to end up hurting her,” I admit.

“Nothing about a relationship is guaranteed. You know that. Heck, Maggie could leave me tomorrow, for all I know.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, right.”

He shoots me a wicked grin because, let’s be honest, he and Maggie are perfect for each other.

“Okay, bad example. The point is, everyone who falls in love and goes into a relationship plans for it to last forever, but shit happens. Half of marriages end in divorce. You know none of those people were thinking about their future divorce on their wedding day.”

“I’m talking about dating. I have no idea why you’re bringing marriage into this. And how does anything you just said help at all?”

“Shit, man. I’m not Oprah. You get the point. No one knows the future. You like her. She