“Jesus Christ, Willow.”
She set pen to paper but paused. “Are we talking about every guy I ever danced with at the bar? Or what about that sweet guy who talks to me at the feed store? Do you need his name too?”
“Yes. And I want you to write down how they hurt you.”
Her head snapped up. She met her brother’s stare.
It wasn’t just a substantial list—it was a walk down the thorny path of her past. The last thing she wanted to do was revisit how any of those guyshurther.
Unable to tolerate Carson’s watchful gaze another moment, she twisted toward her desk and began writing names.
One thing she was sure of—she couldn’t let Decker’s name hit this list. She wouldn’t cost him the future he’d fought so hard to gain.
* * * * *
Decker went to Rhae’s office the night before, but she wasn’t there. According to the note on her door, an emergency with oneof the vets had her tied up. So he’d spent the night in a strange limbo—cleared for duty but not yet officially cleared by the one person whose approval he needed most.
Now, standing outside her office again, the weight of everything that had led to this moment pressed down on his shoulders. The tests, the kiss with Willow, the possibility of finally belonging somewhere again.
He rapped on the frame.
Rhae smiled and waved him in. “I heard you had quite the day yesterday.”
“Carson told you about the tests.”
“He did. But that’s not why you’re here.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “The only way onto the team is through me, Decker. You know that.”
He remained standing, old habits keeping him upright when the conversation felt this important. “I know.”
“So talk to me.Reallytalk to me. Not the surface-level responses you’ve been giving in our sessions.”
The request hit him like a physical blow. He showed more while playing dolls with Navy than anything else. Now Rhae was asking him to dig deep, to go to the places he’d been avoiding for months. Maybe years.
He thought about deflecting, giving her just enough to satisfy her requirements. But something about the way she was looking at him with patient understanding—but absolutely unwilling to accept anything less than the truth—made him realize that half-measures wouldn’t work here.
He eased into one of the comfy armchairs, and Rhae drifted to the corner of the sofa.
For a long minute, he stared at his hands. Remembering how goddamn helpless he’d felt.
“There was someone,” he said finally. “Before I came here.”
Rhae said nothing, letting him find his way through the words.
“Her name was Delilah.” The name felt strange on his tongue after so many months of silence. “We went through training together, got stationed on the same aircraft carrier. She was a pilot.”
Rhae just listened.
“We became friends at first. Then…”
“Then more than friends?”
He nodded. “We weren’t supposed to be. Rules about fraternization and chain of command. So we kept it quiet. Told ourselves it was just physical, just something to help us blow off steam between missions.”
The words were coming easier now, like a dam had burst. “But it wasn’t just physical. At least not for me. I was in love with her, and I think she knew it even when I couldn’t admit it to myself.”
Rhae leaned forward slightly. “What happened to her?” Her tone was gentle, inviting.
“Extraction mission went sideways. Her bird went down in enemy territory.” His throat tightened, but he pushed through it. “We were too late. We found the crash site.”
