“And she’s the best at her job,” Greer added. “I wouldn’t know what to do without her.”
“Aww, Greer. The feeling is mutual.” She leaned over and patted his cheek. “I’d do anything for you and that husband of yours.”
We chuckled when Greer blushed. “Careful what you ask for. We might take you up on that someday.”
Brent looked over at me and smiled. “Ready, Commander?”
I wasn’t used to him calling me that anymore, but I’d let it go under the circumstances.
“I’m ready,” I said. And I followed him onto the plane.
CHAPTER 24
BRENT
The flightto Colorado Springs felt like it took half the time on a private plane, even though I knew the flight time was essentially the same. Maybe it was because I dreaded what I had to do. Every time we deployed somewhere, the time to get there seemed so much shorter than when we were coming home.
John sat across from me on the sofa, occasionally chatting with Sandra, while I chose the recliner. I knew I’d pushed him away, and that needed to change. My head still hurt, and I knew he could make things better.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I got up and went to him on the sofa. He looked up at me as I sat down, leaving space between us.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No. My head hurts,” I said, lying down. I put my head on his thigh and immediately felt somewhat better. Just being close to him gave me peace like I’d never experienced before I met him.
John ran his fingers over my head, careful to avoid the injured area to massage the headache away.
“I’m sorry for pushing you away this morning. I know how this is going to go, and I really didn’t want you to see her dismiss me again like she did the last time I was here.”
“What happened?”
As he gently massaged my scalp, I closed my eyes and told him the story. He listened without saying anything and just let me talk. “Ever since Matt died, it’s like they’ve become strangers.”
I turned onto my back to where I could see him. He scooted down a little on the sofa to lean back.
“Does it bother you to talk about him?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked about him in a long time. He was fourteen when he died. I was sixteen. He had leukemia, but it wasn’t the cancer that killed him. It was a reaction to the chemo.”
John changed the topic from death quickly. “Were you close?”
I smiled. “Yeah. I was two years older than him. We both loved football and when we got old enough to play, we were on the same team. He was better than I was, though. That’s how they found the cancer. Middle school football. He had bruises all over his body that wouldn’t heal, and he was losing weight. Mom took him to the doctor and they sent him over to the children’s hospital for testing. He didn’t stand a chance at that point. He’d been hiding it. Even from me.”
John ran his fingers over my head, relaxing me more. And the words kept flowing from me.
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t prevent that from happening.”
He was wrong. “I was supposed to protect him. I was the older one. My job as his older brother was to take care of him. And I failed at that.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until John wiped my tears away. I couldn’t remember ever telling all this to anyone.
“All this time, my parents have been punishing me for failing my brother. They stopped being parents, stopped attending my games, stopped showing up for anything unless they had to. Andwhen I went off to college, it was a relief to have the reminder gone. They didn’t argue with me about going into the Navy. They just didn’t fucking care. And I deserved it.”
John cupped the side of my face. “Look at me, Brent. You are not responsible for Matt’s death. Cancer is not something you could have protected him from no matter what you did. This is not your fault. And I will keep telling you that for the rest of our lives until you believe it.”
God, I wanted to believe him. How could he love me when my own parents didn’t? And now the floodgates holding back all this guilt and pain inside me were cracking under pressure. I wanted to believe John, but it was difficult after twenty years.
“And as far as your parents go, that’s bullshit. Every bit of that is on them. Not the shoulders of a sixteen-year-old. Now sit up. I need to hold you.”
