Whitley gives me a quick hug, waves over her shoulder to Leo,then escapes out the door. I turn to look at Leo, as he’s slowly sitting on the couch. “What are you doing? I can take her.”
“I think we both know she’s going to scream her head off if you try,” he says calmly. I watch as he kicks off his shoes, then settles back into a lounging position. Violet lifts her head to look at Leo, then turns to look at me. Once she sees me, she sighs, then lays her head back down. “Get the Tylenol, Ladybug. Let’s get this little lady feeling better.”
I quietly measure out the age appropriate dosage for Violet, then approach them. Sitting beside Leo, I’m just about to push the syringe into Violet’s mouth when she vomits all over him. “Oh no!”
When I go to grab her, he stops me. “It’s alright. Let her finish.”
“Let her finish puking on you?” I ask incredulously.
“I’m already a mess. Besides, it’s not like she did it on purpose. This way you don’t have to clean anything.” Leo carefully pats her back as she throws up again. As soon as she’s done, she lets out a pained yowl. “Okay. She’s done.”
“How do you know?”
“Baby, I have a billion nieces and nephews, plus three younger siblings. Four if you count Gia. I know things about kids. Can I use your shower?” he asks as I pull Violet from him. Grabbing the baby wipes container, I clean her face and hands, noticing not one drop of puke got on her.
“Yeah,” I murmur, watching as he carefully stands up, moving his shirt to contain all the puke. “I can wash your clothes if you’d like.”
“I’d prefer clean clothes over sitting in this,” he calls out as he strides into the kitchen. I watch as he dumps the liquid into the trash can, then peels off his shirt, placing it in the sink. He unzips his jeans, and I realize he never buckled his belt after we had sex. Stripping his jeans off, he places them next to the shirt. “I’ll, uh, go shower now.”
My mouth drops open as Leo confidently walks past me.Scores of tattoos cover his pecs, and I almost step forward to get a closer look. I bet there’s a story for every one of them. Then my eyes dance south, stopping to ogle his butt. God, he has an amazing ass, and his boxer briefs make it look even better. But then my eyes drift lower, and I see his mangled legs. Scars from shrapnel dot along both legs, from ankle to thigh, but one leg looks significantly smaller than the other. Multiple long scars travel the length of his calf, and his knee is misshapen. Tears fill my eyes as I think about all the trauma he’s been through. Trauma he handled alone, because he didn’t have me, and he didn’t want to burden his family.
God, what a selfish bitch I am.
“Auntie Ella, why are you crying?” Oliver asks softly. I look over at my sweet nephew, innocently chewing on his string cheese, and wipe the tears from my face.
“Just sad for a second, bud. I’m okay.” Standing, I walk into the kitchen to grab Leo’s clothes. As I grab them, his wallet falls out. “Shit. Glad I didn’t wash this —”
I bend down to grab the wallet, but a group of papers falls out of the pocket. I’m shocked to find my own picture staring back at me. What the hell? It’s an old photo, one he took when we were in our early twenties. I’m smiling gaily at him, and I remember him kissing me right after. He was home after one of his first deployments, and so happy about his decision to join the Army. I was blissfully ignorant of how much anxiety his deployments would cause me, and still thought he’d only be active duty for a tour or two.
I drag my finger along the worn edges of the photo. I can remember every detail about that day. How we daydreamed about the future, and the promises we made. Most of those were broken within a few years. I thought he’d be back home, we’d be married, well on our way to a kid or two. He promised to always be truthful, never make any big decisions without my input, and be the kind of partner we’d both witnessed with our parents.
How many times has he pulled this out of his wallet? Has hepined for me all this time? Did he have any regrets about that period in our lives? We were so different, yet somehow the same.
“Ella,” Leo says quietly, standing before me wrapped only in a towel. I raise my head, letting the tears fall. Violet sighs against me, and I realize she’s fallen asleep. Crap. I should fully bathe her, but I know it’ll throw off her mood even more, and decide I’ll bathe her in the morning.
“Please tell me you just put this back in your wallet, and that you haven’t had it in here the entire time,” I blurt out tearfully. “Please, Leo. I don’t know if I can take it if you tell me you’ve kept this in there, and you looked at it often.”
He approaches me slowly, reaching up to push an errant piece of hair behind my ear. “There was a time when I promised you I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Scrunching my eyes closed tightly, I drop my chin to rest on the top of Violet’s head. “Shit.”
“It’s not that bad, Ladybug,” Leo says with a light laugh. “I’ll admit I’ve taken the picture out occasionally. But honestly, there were many times I forgot it was in there.”
“Then why didn’t you throw it away when you did realize?” I ask. “I can’t even imagine what other girls thought about you having my picture in your wallet, Leo. That had to have led to some really uncomfortable conversations.”
He shakes his head. “First of all, I haven’t dated. No woman has seen the inside of my wallet. Second —”
I interrupt him. “What do you mean you haven’t dated?”
He blatantly points to his leg. “Kinda been busy. May I continue?”
I slam my mouth shut, and nod.
“Alright. I left the picture in there for a variety of reasons. Regardless of what status we were, you’ll always be my first love. You’ve inspired me, and challenged me, and I don’t ever want to forget that. And I figured if I ever even thought about dating, I needed to be reminded that you set the bar incredibly high. So if Ididn’t think a woman would come close, it wasn’t worth my time.”
“Leo,” I whisper, overcome with emotion.
“And last …” he trails off, his eyes darting down to look at Violet. When he finally meets my gaze again, he gives me a lopsided smile. “There were a number of times over the past decade when I thought things couldn’t get any worse than they were. Times when I wondered if I’d make it through. Your picture reminded me that there’s always darkness before the dawn. There might be a storm, but the beauty after the rain is worth it. When I passed out after the IED blew up the convoy, your face was the last thing I saw. For a moment, I was pissed that our time was over, and that you’d be finding out from someone that I’d died. But then I was so fucking thankful, because I got to experienceyou. I was loved by you. And no matter what life brings me, I’m so fucking grateful I had that privilege.”
