The truth was I’d spent months compartmentalizing every physical setback, every cognitive limitation, every reminder that the life I’d spent over thirteen years building was permanently off the table. Adding fertility problems to the list shouldn’t have felt like such a devastating blow. It was just one more mechanical failure, one more thing to adapt to and work around.
Except it wasn’t just about me anymore. For the first time since my discharge—maybe since I’d left home—I’d started imagining a future that included someone else. Someone who might want the kind of life I wasn’t sure I could provide.
“Hormone levels are shot,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “Common head trauma complication.”
Dom’s casual expression sharpened. “Shit, Finn. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not unexpected,” I shrugged. “TBIs often affect the pituitary gland, which regulates hormone production. Standard complication for guys with my type of injury.” The clinicalexplanation came easily, creating distance between the facts and their implications.
“But treatable?”
“Maybe. Depends on the underlying cause and how well I respond to hormone replacement therapy. Fifty-fifty chance of maintaining normal function long-term.”
Dom nodded slowly, processing the information. “How are you doing with all this?”
The question was asked carefully, like he knew it was loaded territory. How was I doing with all this? I was sitting on a private plane across from my successful, happily engaged, happily whole brother—reading test results that confirmed I was broken in yet another fundamental way, while the woman I’d fallen for reminded me our relationship was just pretend and our connection was built on nothing more than pretense.
How was I doing?
“Fine,” I said automatically, jaw ticking slightly. “Just more information to factor into future planning.”
“Finn.”
“What?”
“You don’t have to handle this alone.”
Before I could respond, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Gentlemen, we’re beginning our descent into Jackson Hole. Should have you on the ground in about ten minutes.”
Dom glanced toward the cockpit, then back at me. “We should talk more about this. When you’re ready.”
I nodded, grateful for the interruption and the reprieve it offered from this conversation. Through the small cabin window, the Teton Range rose ahead of us like jagged teeth against the sky—familiar peaks that should have felt like coming home but instead felt like returning to another life that no longer fit.
The plane banked left, beginning its approach, and I closed my eyes against the dizziness and nausea—more pressure buildingbehind my eyes that had nothing to do with the medical report now.
Dom’s hand landed briefly on my forearm across the table—a gesture of support that said more than words could. I appreciated it, even as I wondered how long it would be before everyone else figured out that the man they thought they knew was mostly just clever camouflage over damaged goods.
The landing gear engaged with a mechanical thump that I felt in my chest, and Jackson Hole’s runway rushed up to meet us, reminding me of how I felt whenever I executed a perfect landing—back when I could trust my body to perform the functions it was designed for.
Back when I was Steady.
Chapter 21
I hate when Elena’s right
Finn
I unrolled the window of the black car as we pulled up the long drive to the main house. I’d forgotten how the ranch looked in early summer—green pastures stretching toward the Tetons, cow and bison grazing in fields that seemed to go on forever. Wide-open space that made my chest loosen just breathing it in.
The front door flew open and my parents’ dog, Maggie, shot out like a missile, barking with all the enthusiasm in her furry silver body. She made a beeline for the car, tail helicopter-spinning, bouncing on her hind legs as I climbed out.
“Hey, girl,” I crouched down and let her assault me with kisses, her whole body wiggling with joy. For a dog I’d only met twice before, she acted like I was her long-lost owner. “Miss me?”
Dom laughed as he came around the car. “Pretty sure she likes you better than me, and I’m the one she’s seen more.”
“Military effect,” I said, scratching behind Maggie’s ears. “Herding dogs respect my authority.”
“You’re not in the military anymore, shit for brains.”
