Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Amanda had been tempted to listen through the door at Mark's end of the conversation. What was he hiding from her? Didn't he know her parents would tell her everything?

Knowing that, she hadn't bothered. She was elbow-deep in dishes when Mark walked in. "I need to go. I have to call my parents and let them know I won't be home today. And make sure it's okay with Justin if I stay until tomorrow."

Her heart did a backflip. "You're staying?"

"I have to give my statement tomorrow."

"Should we do something, or?—?"

"I'm sorry." He set her phone on the counter. "This thing between you and me… It's not going to work."

"What?" She must have misheard him. But her heart thumped, and her pulse raced, and her voice was barely a whisper. "I don't understand. What…what are you saying?"

"You won't be hearing from me again."

"Did my parents?—?"

"This has nothing to do with them. I don't like commitment."

"You're committed to the Marines."

He crossed his arms. "Let me rephrase. I don't want you waiting for me. I won't wait for you."

She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and blinked them back. He wasn't telling her the truth. He was trying to get her to move on. She had to believe that. "You can't keep me from waiting for you. And when you get back?—"

"If I get back?—"

"Don't say that!"

"Why not? It's true. I'll be in combat. I could be injured or killed. No matter what happens, I won't come back the person I am right now."

"You'll be better."

"I wouldn't count on it." He moved into her small living area and sat to put on his shoes.

Amanda perched on the arm of the couch, preparing her argument.

But when he looked at her, his features had hardened into a cold, emotionless mask, and her words died on her lips.

"It's not what I want." He closed his mouth in a tight line and looked down to tie his sneakers. "I have no intention of marrying, ever. It's not just that I'm going to war—that's my excuse today. When I get home, there'll be another one." He plopped his foot on the floor and stood, glaring down at her. "I don't want to get married, not to you or anyone else."

Amanda looked away, not able to bear the fury in his eyes.

"Who said anything about marriage?"

He blew out a breath. "Talking to your parents… They're great, but obviously, that's what they want for you. And what you want. It's what you deserve."

At his softening tone, she risked turning toward him again.

"If I were to change my mind, you'd definitely be…" He faltered, looked at the floor. "I don't want to lead you on, that's all."

"How kind of you to think of that now." She infused her tone with sarcasm. It was either that or give in to the heartache trying to work its way up her throat. "I suppose I should thank you for not waiting a year or two before you dumped me. Or sleeping with me first."

Had she imagined his feelings? Had she led herself to believe that a man who'd gone to such lengths to save her life must, by extension, love her?

Or that he must love her because she loved him?

"I'd better go."

"I guess so."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't owe me anything."

He walked to the door and grabbed the knob. He didn't turn around when he spoke. "Tell the building manager to reinforce the deadbolt. It shouldn't be so easy to kick in."

What do you care? That was what she wanted to say. "Okay."

And he was gone.