Riley:From your mouth to God's ears.
And she meant it.She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust in the future he seemed so certain she’d have.
Riley glancedat the clock and figured out the time difference. Talon sometimes couldn't tell her his exact location, but when he couldn't, he told her how many hours ahead or behind East Coast time he was. It was one of those small considerations that meant everything—keeping her connected to his world even when he couldn't share the details.
She glanced down at the magazine in her lap.
Riley:Read an article about PTSD in military personnel.
Talon:Oh?
Well,she deserved that response. She could have given him a bit more information, but they'd fallen into having conversations without beginning or end. Just one constant chat like they were living in the same space instead of worlds apart.She sent the question she'd wondered about after reading the article.
Riley:Do you ever … struggle with that?
She did.She woke up at night because of her dreams. She relived those moments in time. She felt dread when a door shut and had an anxiety attack if her way to a door was blocked. PTSD wasn't just for the military. But did he deal with it, too? This man who seemed so strong, so unbreakable?
Talon:Sometimes. Occupational hazard.
Well,that was pretty casual. She made a face and shrugged her shoulders. Yeah, no, that wasn't how he dealt with it. He was playing it off. She was becoming quite skilled at reading Talon, at seeing past the careful responses to the man underneath.
Riley:What helps? Asking for a friend.
The oldest deflectionin the book. She knew he'd see right through it.
Talon:Staying busy. Having purpose. Good friends.
She was stayingbusy with her therapies, and she'd started an online class to fill the empty time. A purpose? Her purpose was to heal so she could leave the house and return to work. One day, she would walk back into that office on the Gulf of Guinea, and she wouldn’t be afraid. That was her purpose.Good friends.She sighed.She'd lost contact with most of her college friends. Work associates couldn't be counted as friends in her book. And as far as family went, well, it was just her and her dad. So … friends …
Riley:Am I a good friend?
The question wasout before she could stop it. Vulnerable and needy and everything she tried not to be with him.
Talon:The best.
Her heart warmedwith the immediate response. The best. Not just good, but the best. She considered him her best friend. He put up with her weird questions, odd texts, and stupid jokes. She'd found a page of nothing but dad jokes and dropped one to him every day. Most of them got a "groan," but sometimes, he liked them and told her he forwarded them to his dad.
She read it again and realized that somewhere along the way, in the space between rescue and recovery, she'd found something she'd never had before. A friend who chose her. Who saw her at her worst and stayed anyway. Who thought she was worth his time, his attention, his care.
Maybe that was enough to start rebuilding a life on. Maybe that was everything.
December
Talon:Random observation: airport coffee is universally terrible.
Riley foundherself grinning at her phone. Talon was very particular about his coffee, especially if he was paying for it. Over the months, she'd learned these little details about him—the way he noticed things other people overlooked, how he had standards about the strangest things. He'd even given her advice never to let his cousin make coffee. Not that she'd ever meet his cousin, but the warning was serious, so she'd taken it to heart. These random pieces of information felt like treasures, glimpses into a life she'd never be part of but somehow felt connected to anyway.
Riley:Where are you suffering through bad coffee today?
She lovedhow easily they'd fallen into this pattern—his observations, her questions, the comfortable back-and-forth that made her feel like she was traveling alongside him instead of where she was.
Talon:Denver. It's snowing, and I'm questioning my life choices.
Over the months,they’d spent hours, days, weeks talking via text. Sometimes she couldn’t do anything because his texts came in such rapid succession. She smiled at the thoughts of the multitude of conversations they’d had. Stupid convos not related to anything they were experiencing and then the next conversation was spiritual, metaphysical, irrational, and always building on the relationship they were sharing. She doubted he ever doubted his life choices. He was the most determined and single-minded person she'd ever met. In her mind, he existed in a world of certainty, of clear rights and wrongs, of decisive action.If she'd learned anything over the last five months, Talon thought everything through before he made a move. He was cautious by nature—carefully calculated risks, measured responses. So different from her father, who made impulsive business decisions and expected everyone else to clean up the mess.
Riley:What would you rather be doing?
The question felt saferthan admitting she was questioning everything about her own life choices lately.
