I know what I’m doing here, although this is more delicate than breaching a metal door.
“First thing you have to do is clean it.”
There’s a shelf in the back of the shed, and I find a wire brush and a cloth. After gathering them in my lap, I take them back to the table.
While I get busy scraping the dirt off the blade, Paige leans on the bench to watch. I catch the scent of fresh grass cuttings and the floral note of her body wash.
“I’m sorry you found out like you did,” she says quietly.
I run the brush over the blade in quick strokes. There are a lot of nicks, and it keeps catching. I just found out the woman I’ve dreamed about for three years has my son, and I missed it. I missed seeing her belly swell with my child. I missed the birth, I missed my son’s first laugh, first steps, first tooth.
“Did you try to find me?”
My voice wobbles with emotion, and I focus on the blade, scrubbing the brush over it in quick movements.
“Yes,” she whispers. “When I got to Hope and Mom’s death hit me, I wanted to be back in that hotel room with you so bad. A week later, I drove to Fort Bragg and sat in that horrible bar hoping you would come in. Even though I knew you were deployed, I hoped maybe something had happened, and you didn’t go. And when I found out I was pregnant, I went back every week. Just to sit on the bar stool and wait for you. I didn’t know when your deployment ended, but I figured you’d come back there some day. Once Noah arrived, I stopped going. It was clear I wasn’t going to find you. And I had to focus on him.”
Her words cut me deep. She waited for me, but I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there when she needed me.
“I’m sorry you went through that all on your own.” I set the brush down and turn to her. I can barely look into her wide eyes. “If I’d known, I would’ve been there.” I pause before adding, “I went to the bar too, every time I was back. It was the only connection I had to you, and I hoped like hell you’d be there. That you’d come to find me, that you felt the connection like I did.”
If I’d known where to find her, with or without my son, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to be with Paige. And if I’d known about Noah, I would’ve left the SEALs to help her raise our son. I would’ve been there for her, and I’d know my son.
Regret is heavy in my chest, and I turn away so she doesn’t see. If only I’d given her my name, my phone number, how differently this all might have played out.
“It happened how it happened. We can’t change the past.” She puts a hand on my shoulder, and her warmth makes me arm tingle. I feel her touch all the way through my body, lighting meup in a way it shouldn’t. Because no matter what we felt in that hotel room, I’m a different man now.
I may never get another chance with Paige, but I want to know my son.
“I want to be in Noah’s life.” I glance up at her, and she takes her hand away.
“You’re his father. You have rights.”
The words cut me, and I turn back to the blade to hide my disappointment. I have the right to be in his life, but I want to be in Paige’s life too.
There’s a clamp attached to the bench, and I fix the blade in it. I guess I should be thankful for any crumbs she’s willing to throw me.
“Where is he today?”
I grab another pair of safety goggles from the bench and slide them on.
“Avery took him for a few hours. She’s getting practice in before her little one arrives.” Paige checks her watch. “I’ve got to pick him up in half an hour on my way to the Huntington job.”
A cloud passes over her face, and then it’s gone.
I turn on the angle grinder, and sparks fly as I move it over the blade. We don’t try to speak over the noise, and it doesn’t take long before the edges are sharp.
Once done, I set the grinder down and push up the goggles. Paige undoes the clamp and inspects the blade.
“There are a lot of nicks in there,” I say. “It must pick up a lot of stones.”
Her expression tightens. “It gets a lot of use.”
She shoves the blade into her carry bag. But there’s something unsettling her. Something’s off.
“You going to be okay attaching it back to the mower?”
Paige gives me a withering look. “Who do you think got it off?”
