I swallow.
“I was supposed to deploy again,” he says. “Then he died, and I didn’t.”
“Because of her,” I say softly.
He nods once.
“They have two little kids,” he continues. “They’re still trying to figure out how to live without their dad. And she…” He exhales. “She doesn’t like asking for help. Doesn’t like people knowing she needs it.”
“So you stepped in.”
“I promised him I always would,” he says simply.
That lands.
Hard.
“I got out of service,” he adds. “Took a contractor job instead. Something… quieter. More boring.”
“Boring?” I ask, trying for light.
“Compared to before? Yeah.”
A small huff of laughter escapes me before I can stop it.
“You could have told me,” I say after a second.
“I don’t tell people.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not my story to tell.”
I press my lips together. That actually makes sense.
“I didn’t want to put her in a position where she felt exposed,” he continues. “And I didn’t know how to explain disappearing without explaining that.”
“So you said nothing,” I say.
“Yeah.”
I shake my head slightly. “That’s… still incredibly frustrating.”
“I know.”
“At least now I know you weren’t ditching me for something stupid.”
“Never that.”
Silence stretches between us. But it’s different now.
He takes a step closer.
“I didn’t tell you before,” he says, quieter now, “because I don’t share that with anyone.”
My breath catches.
“But you’re telling me now,” I say.
