“Will do. And, hey, congratulations. How’s the wife?”
“Amazing,” I smile. “She’s perfect.”
“How was the wedding?”
“It was quick.”
“Did Elvis marry you?”
I laugh. “Nope.”
“Bummer. What about you? What’s going on there?”
I relax in the seat. “I had physical therapy today. I think I might be cleared soon.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I can request some bases, but it will depend on where Ro goes to med school.”
“Well, maybe they won’t clear you for a bit, and you’ll have time to figure things out.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it. They hinted today that I was pretty much done.”
“Have you told Rowan that?”
“Not yet. She has classes tonight, and I’m sure she’ll be exhausted. I’ll tell her once I know for sure.”
As if the universe is mocking me, my phone dings with a new email, and I glance at it to see it’s from the medical clinic.
“Dammit,” I groan.
“What?”
“Just got an email from medical.”
“Well, I’ll let you deal with that. The meds are kicking in, and I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you later. Keep me updated.”
“Will do. Good luck, bro.”
“Thanks.”
We hang up, and I pull up the email. My stomach sinks as I scan it. They’re giving me the option to do another six weeks of physical therapy to get back in fighting shape for active duty, or I can do the six weeks and go to a teaching base.
I never thought about teaching before, but I never had Rowan before either.
I know I have to make a decision, and soon, but before I do any of that, I need to talk to Rowan.
TEN
Rowan
Grant is quiet.
Too quiet.
I know it the second I climb into the passenger seat of his truck. The engine is running, the heater humming, the faint smell of leather and his cologne wrapping around me, but he doesn’t immediately reach across the console for my hand like he usually does.
