He placed his hand on top of mine. “It’s fine.”
Warmth spread through me at his touch. “Had he hit you before then?”
“No. Only screamed and threw shit. The moment he did, I had to leave. Ma didn’t do much for standing up to him.” His eyes wavered.
“How didn’t I know?” My words were soft. I was oblivious to all of it back then. How could I not have noticed he was struggling? I racked my brain for answers but came up empty.
“I didn’t want you to know. I hid it the whole time we were together. It was embarrassing. I didn’t want my girlfriend to know my father was an abusive alcoholic.”
“But I would’ve been able to be there for you.” Tears swam in my eyes, making his perfect face blur.
“You were there. You just didn’t know it.” He squeezed my hand as I shut my eyes, causing the tears to escape.
He chuckled. “You’ve always been a crier. I would’ve thought you’d outgrown that.”
I gasped and threw my hand out to whack his chest, but he caught it with his other hand. My heart skittered as my body melted into his touch. His scent was pure ecstasy. It’d changed from the over-used musky cologne he’d used as a teenager. He smelled like a man now. A spicy scent of cinnamon and ginger invaded my senses.
“Don’t worry, little spitfire. I still think it’s cute,” he said in a low, husky tone.
I’d been a virgin when we dated. He’d respected my wishes to wait until marriage, and we’d never had any instances of a thick sexual tension between us. But at that moment, desire radiated between us. I couldn’t find my voice. My cheeks flushed hot, and my stomach filled with butterflies. Breathless didn’t even come close to how I felt with his intense stare boring into me.
He loosened his grip on my hand. I pulled it back in my lap with the hand he was still holding. I took a few deep breaths before breaking the heavy silence. “Why didn’t you send me the letters? Or contact me? It took me years to be able to live with not knowing where you went or if you were okay.”
“I wanted to. I’d written you a ton of letters that I tore up before I started keeping them. My buddies fucked with me about it. I don’t have a good reason for not contacting you. I was a coward, and I’m sorry. I figured you’d hate me.”
“I could never hate you. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I was pissed off for a long time but mainly hurt. We never even broke up, Flynn. You just… left.”
He pulled away and raked his hands through his hair. “You’re right. I fucked up. But I was a fucked up kid. I had no idea what I was doing, and I didn’t want to break up with you or tell you bye. It isn’t an excuse. It was wrong. I should’ve reached out. That’s on me. I’m sorry.”
My lips curved into a smile. I’d wanted to hear that for years. Now that he’d said it, a huge weight lifted off me. “I’ve already forgiven you.”
“You’re something else.” He shook his head with a smile of his own.
“So, tell me what’s in that last letter. I’m ready to hear it.”
His smile fell as his jaw went slack. “I’ve never actually told anyone this story, so bear with me.”
I nodded. His body was tense, and I could see the weight he was carrying.
“A couple of years ago we deployed to Afghanistan. About a year ago, I lost my leg, knee down.” He swallowed hard. “Well, I didn’t lose the leg right away. I mean, hold on. Let me start from the beginning.”
I scooted even closer to where our legs touched and rested my hand on his thigh. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
He grabbed my hand and squeezed, like me being there was enough to reassure him. The connection we shared hadn’t changed as much as I thought it had, and that filled me with hope.
“I was in the convoy with four other guys from my unit when we were ambushed. Our vehicle took contact by an RPG.”
He glanced at me before giving a small chuckle. “Sorry, military jargon. A rocket propelled grenade.”
He must’ve seen the confusion on my face. I mouthed an, oh, before gesturing for him to continue. “The vehicle flipped on its top. I was the gunner.” His eyes studied me. “The one who stood through a porthole in the top of the humvee with a belt-fed weapon system to engage targets.”
I nodded, showing him I understood. I may not have known a lot about the military, but I did know that he had come milliseconds away from death.
His eyes shifted as he stared past my shoulder, as if he was reliving it all again. My chest twisted at the pain on his face. “My comrades pulled me inside just in time. We were tossed around as it rolled down a ravine. I don’t remember much from the head injuries… but I know I was dragged from the burning humvee. Several of us were medivaced out, and I was in and out of consciousness.”
He paused for a couple of minutes, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind. I’d read about all his dangerous escapades in the letters, but nothing quite came close to this. Not from seeing the raw anguish in his eyes or the way his body had stiffened from the memories.
“When I woke up at the hospital, I was wounded from shrapnel, those fragments from rounds and explosives. Burns covered thirty percent of my body. My hands, right arm, and half my torso.”
