Chapter 18 Women Need to Be Pampered

Ellie got this call from George three days after he bounces. He was like, "Hey, I made it, but I'm in the boonies, so the signal's trash. If you can't reach me, don't freak out. I'll hit the village for supplies every week and call you then."

Honestly, it was the same old spiel. Just a heads-up that he was alive and kicking. Ellie'd heard it all before. She was staring at her shoes, thinking, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Stay safe out there."

George, on the other end, thought she'd still be fuming. But nope, she was cool as a cucumber, telling him to take care. This threw him off big time. He'd been on edge ever since Patrick started yapping about the seven-year itch. Now, Ellie's chill response was making him even more jittery.

"Uh... so, you're not mad anymore?" he stammered.

Mad? Ellie was not even sure if she was still mad. It'd been a few days, and most of her anger'd fizzled out.
She wasn't feeling that fiery rage from the other night anymore. Now, she was just plain worn out, like she had no energy left. She bit her lip lightly and then managed a smile.

"It's been days, why would I still be mad? I'm over it."

Her soft voice hit George right in the feels, like a punch to the gut. He gripped the phone tighter, wanting to tell her that after this mission, things would chill out. He'd have more time for her, and they could even start a family.

He had a ton of stuff he wanted to say, but when it came down to it, he couldn't get a single word out. He was scared something would go wrong again, scared she'd be let down once more. He'd already let her down too many times.

Ellie, thinking the signal had crapped out again, said, "Hello?"

George quickly cleared his throat and jumped on the chance, "Hello? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you."

"Sorry, the signal here sucks."

"It's okay."

"Uh... I gotta go check the supplies, so I'll catch you later."
When she heard him say he was gonna hang up, disappointment welled up uncontrollably. She pursed her lips and softly replied, "Okay."

That muffled sound, like it was stuck in her throat, hit George right in the heart again, and he gripped the phone even tighter.

"By the way, don't worry about me out here. But you, take care of yourself, alright?"

"Yeah, I know. That's all for now."

"...Alright."

After hanging up, George slowly put down his phone and took off his glasses. Just as he was about to rub his throbbing forehead, he heard Patrick's cheerful laughter nearby.

He turned and saw Patrick squatting on the other side of the tent, chatting on the phone and smoking, looking all happy. For the first time, George felt a twinge of jealousy he'd never felt before. It was jealousy, and he found himself getting irritated by Patrick's presence.

Sensing George's gaze, Patrick turned and looked at him. After a moment, he said something into the phone and hung up, then stood up and walked over to George.
"Captain Stone—"
George just stared at him, feeling like there was nothing worth saying. Sure enough, Patrick got closer, a teasing grin on his face. "What? Did you have a fight?"
"No."
"No? Then why do you look so miserable?"
"..."
Patrick laughed and pulled out a cigarette, offering it to him. George wasn't a stranger to smoking, but he rarely did it. Now, looking at the cigarette Patrick was handing him, he hesitated for a moment before taking it.

Patrick's smirk widened as he handed over the lighter. He took a puff from his own cigarette and blew the smoke towards a distant hill, its peaceful slope totally at odds with the chaos in George's mind.

"Women need to be pampered. You're never home and always with that serious face. Your wife's stuck with you for six years without bailing, you should be grateful, not jealous of me."

"..." The cigarette George had just put between his teeth paused for a moment. Then he lowered his head, lit it, and took a deep drag. The nicotine hit his throat, carrying a bitter taste... a taste that matched his current mood perfectly.