This is the big one. Rina is important to me—always has been, always will be, regardless of how things go between us. I will continue to watch over her, to be there for her in the background, no matter what.
It brings me to what Iwantin life.
This is what’s hard. I’ve been a soldier most of my life in one form or another; it’s never been about what I want. If it was, I would never have broken Rina’s and my heart. I wouldn’t have taken every ounce of her hatred instead of just talking to her.
I sit back with a jolt before groaning at the sharp pain in my back. But the thought I have is like a lightning strike.
What I want is Rina.
I thought I did what was best, saving her from a life of unknowns and an absentee partner. I made a decision based on my job, which I didn’t have a choice in at the time.
What I wanted and what I did were two completely different things.
I swear it’s like a rainbow sprouting from the waterfall, and this huge revelation seals my fate.
All of this work I’m doing to better myself is for me, yes, but it’s also for Rina, for the life I would do anything for us to have. I’m under no illusion that winning Rina back will be easy or possible, but am I even really living if I don’t try?
Just as I think this, my phone pings in my pocket. I fish it out and see the message is from the very woman I was just pondering.
Rina:
Hey, are you busy tonight? Could you stop by after work?
Me:
Absolutely.
It’s time to go get my woman.
Chapter 18
Rina
I’m nervous. Texting Arlo to come over is a risk, but I know we need to talk more. I heard his version of how things went, but we didn’t dive into anything more, and I think I want to.
This doesn’t necessarily mean I’m willing to forgive him or move forward with him as anything other than a friend, but I need to talk it out with someone and he’s the only one with the answers I need.
Half an hour after I text him, there’s a knock on my door.
I brush my hands down my shirt, checking to make sure I look presentable and then immediately chastise myself because it doesn’t matter what I look like. Arlo sure as hell doesn’t care if I’m in a paper bag or dressed to the nines.
I crack the front door and see his stubbled face, deep brown eyes, and a beat-up Bluebell Falls Landscaping baseball hat.
Shit. He looks good. Too good. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a baseball hat in years, and it was always my favorite look on him.
“You okay?” he asks, concern etched all over his attractive face.
“Yep, yep, great.” I hold the door open and usher him inside. “Drink?” I ask after I close the door.
“I’m good. Everything okay?” he asks, and I realize I didn’t tell him why I wanted him to come over.
“Do you want to sit down?” I suddenly feel extremely awkward, which irritates me because I never feel this way.
“Whatever you want.” He takes a seat on my couch as I debate getting some water.
I pivot on my heel and grab a bottle from the refrigerator. Joining him on the couch, I sit down next to him before cracking open the water bottle and downing a couple of swallows. I see Arlo out of the corner of my eye, and he’s wearing a smirk like it’s his job, and I realize he sees how nervous I am.
“Okay, I want to pick up where we left off the last time we talked about things. I was … shocked, hearing everything you went through, and it took me a while to process. I still think I’m processing, honestly, but I’d like to talk about it all,” I tell him as my hands wring together.
