“He’s my world.” I beg him to understand, to truly understand the devastation that losing my child would cause me.
“Please,” he pleads, so much pain and yearning overflowing in that one word. “Please believe me. Give me another chance. Forgive me. I don’t want to lose either of you.” His lips hover just above mine. “Please.” A breath away.
I nod, the movement barely perceptible but enough that Miles skates his lips over mine. Kissing me softly. Gently. Need pushes us together, but fear of loss, of smothering this flame, holds me back from completely letting go.
“Miles,” I whisper against his lips, “no more secrets. None, not ever.”
Is it fair of me to demand this? I don’t honestly know. We all have secrets, little ones. Gifts, surprise dinners, happy things. But not the big stuff. There’s no room for secrets in the life-and-death things.
The shift is small, and I can’t really decide if it’s a shift toward me or away. Maybe it’s just a settling acceptance, but when Miles pulls back from me, I feel lost in a way I hate down to my very soul.
“There are things I can’t share, not until they’re done. I have a trip to California coming up. I don’t know exactly when or how long I’ll be gone, but I have to go. There are things I have to take care of.” His gaze darts back and forth between my eyes, searching, begging. Pleading for me to understand.
I suck a deep breath in and slowly push it out. “Work.” I don’t even bother to pose it as a question because I know, without a doubt, that there are things he absolutely can’t tell me. Details I can’t know. There’s a level of trust that’s required for being with a man like Miles, like Dallas, or any one of these men who put their lives on the line for us. Who live dangerously so that we can live free.
“As long as we have honesty at home, no secrets between us.”
Miles answers me with a kiss, so deep, so full of desire that everything else is forgiven.
TWENTY-TWO
Miles
“Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you… do you still love her?” Erin asks the question I’ve been asking myself for years.
And finally, I have the answer.
“Aly?”
“Yeah.”
“I will always love her; she was my wife. She gave me the most beautiful gift I could have ever imagined. But it’s over between us.”
“So, you’re not hoping to be with her again? Restart your life together when she’s better, get remarried when she gets out?”
I don’t know how I got so lucky to have Erin as my friend. I adore my sister, but Erin is like the big sister I didn’t have. She doesn’t hold back. Doesn’t take sides. Doesn’t shy away from difficult discussions.
“No, Erin. Aly’s not going to get better. And I can’t. There’s no way I can ever forget what she did. I will never be able to look at her and not see the bloody knife clutched in her hand. I will never not see my daughter’s lifeless body lying in her bassinet.I can forgive Aly in a way because of how sick she was—is. I missed the signs?—”
Erin cuts me off midsentence. “So did the doctors.”
Ryan’s said the same thing to me. Not just once. He says it every time we talk. Every single time.
“I know. But as sad—asmadas I am, I own that I could’ve done more. I should have. And while I’m willing to entertain forgiveness, I can’t forget. And I can’t see her anymore. The best I can do is make sure she’s taken care of and that she has access to the help she needs and isn’t just locked up with murderers and drug addicts. Deliberation didn’t take long, and sentencing was even faster. I’m glad she’s in an institution—her new place should be a good fit for her—but I have to walk away. This was good-bye. One hundred percent good-bye.”
My long stride eats up the distance between security and my gate. I’m seven hours away from my future. A flight away from a family that I feel like I’m a part of.
Chloe and Jake are perfect, solid. I’m not afraid of hard work, dirty diapers, or sleepless nights. I’m not afraid of babies or kids, tweens or teenagers. Parenting doesn’t scare me any more than the next guy just because of what I’ve gone through. I think it’s life’s greatest adventure, and I want to climb on to that roller coaster and live it with them.
“Erin, my flight’s boarding. I’ve got to let you go. Just… don’t expect me to come into work tomorrow. I have something I have to do.” There’s no doubt in my mind that she can hear the smile in my voice. The stress and strain melting off of my shoulders.
“I’ll see you in a couple of days. Fly safe.” She ends the call.
For the first time in two years, I feel good. Really, honestly good.
I jog the last few yards to the gate, and the attendant smiles broadly as I step up and scan my boarding pass.
“Enjoy your flight, Mr. Kent.”
