He opened the door for her and the smell reached her—roasted meat and fresh buttery bread that made her stomach cramp with sudden hunger.
They entered the cafeteria that, despite the long wooden tables and heavy timber beams spanning the ceiling, looked more like a big family dining room. People sat around the tables with plates of food in front of them, laughing and sharing easy conversation.
A baby fussed in a highchair near the fireplace. A couple argued about whether cherry cobbler was better than pumpkin pie.
Zee stopped just inside the doorway, the scene hitting her harder than she could ever have expected.
Love lived in this room.
This wasn’t the perfection of the movie set. It was real life—messy and loud. Filled with families. Couples. Friends who looked like they’d shared hundreds of dinners together already.
For a second the longing in her chest nearly knocked the breath out of her. This was what she had wanted too…once.
Not necessarily this ranch or these exact people, but the same shape of life. A place to come home to. A husband dropping his keys on the table and bringing his arms around her. Kids running through a cozy space while dinner cooked on the stove.
She and Matt had talked about it late at night between deployments. Their dream was always the same—a small house in a quiet area. Maybe a dog. Children when the time was right. They’d planned the future the way young couples did, assuming the dream would be there when they were ready someday.
Someday had died with him.
Church touched her elbow. “Come on.”
She had no choice but to leave her memories behind and move forward. He guided her into the room and began introducing her to people as they walked toward the buffet.
“This is Zee,” he said more than once. “She works at the training facility.”
That was it.
Not Matt’s widow. Not the woman who tragedy had hollowed out and fear had frozen.
Just Zee.
The difference settled over her like a warm blanket.
Everyone greeted her with a kind word or friendly nod. When they finally reached the buffet, Church passed her a plate and a tray and began filling his and hers both, adding baked chicken and creating a well for gravy in her mashed potatoes.
As they approached the desserts, he leaned close to rumble, “The cherry cobbler’s fantastic, but the pumpkin pie’s better.”
She looked up into his eyes and her heart beat a little faster as she saw the teasing spark in his eyes. “How am I supposed to choose?”
His lips curved into a genuine smile. “You don’t. Take one of each and we can share.” He loaded her tray and they took their seats at a table. Someone pushed a chair out for her, and she sank down with a word of thanks.
For the first time in years, she sat at a table to share a meal with others. It felt foreign and familiar all at once.
At the end of the table, a couple exchanged a look so full of affection that it made her chest tighten. Church introduced them as part of the family behind the Black Heart but Zee was too fascinated by everything to remember their names.
Church fit into it all without effort. People greeted him with easy respect. Someone clapped him on the shoulder. Another man joked about him hogging all the chicken.
Zee looked on with a strange mix of warmth and sadness. He belonged here. And once upon a time, she might have too.
The ache in her chest didn’t ruin the evening, but it floated beneath it, reminding her how far she’d drifted from the future she’d imagined.
After the meal, people began drifting outside. Church remained seated beside her. “There’s a bonfire. If you’d like to go.”
She thought about all the hours that stretched between now and the time she ended up at Church’s place. Possibly in his bed.
No—not that way, she admonished herself even as heat landed in her stomach.
“We don’t have to go. We can just get you settled—”
