Page 81 of Free
“So what? Don’t buy him peach water?”
“No, Charlie.” Garrett laughs softly. “You and Nick are doing a peach water dance right now. You told him about the yoga studio so he could take the consulting job if he wanted. And he didn’t beg you to stay so you’d feel free to go back home if that’s what you wanted. But that’s not what either of you want.”
“That’s a lovely theory,” I say, bitterness creeping into my tone. “But I told him I didn’t want him to go, Garrett. And he told me he was going to ask me to move in with him… and then didn’t.”
Garrett’s smirk softens into something gentler. “You know how he is.”
“I’m tired of knowing how he is. I’m tired of guessing, of stretching myself thin trying to read between the lines.” My voice cracks, and I look away, blinking back tears. “When Nick got hurt, I was desperate. And scared, maybe more scared than I’ve ever been. I’d been in love with him for four years.Four years!And we never even kissed because he had that stupid rule about not being in a relationship because of his job. Do you know what he said to me the day I finally saw him at the hospital?”
Garrett shakes his head and I close my eyes, not ready to relive this particular moment.
The memory has a stranglehold on my voice. It scrapes up my throat. “I told him I’d be there for him through all of it, the healing, the physical therapy, whatever he went through, I’d go through too. He didn’t say anything, Bear. He just stopped talking. Everything fell apart after that. It feels so much like what happened tonight and I just don’t think I can live like that again. After everything we’ve been through, I need somethingfirm. Something solid. I need him to tell me he wants me. I don’t want to have to guess.”
Garrett nods his understanding and places a comforting hand on mine.
Nick pushed me away once, claiming it was best for me. But damn it! That wasn’t his call then, and it’s not his call now. We are so past the “If you love someone, let them go” stage of this relationship.
If he loves me, I need him to ask me to stay.
FORTY-FIVE
Nick
Dear Charlie,
It’s been two days, and I haven’t seen you. Sure, we’ve texted, but that feels so wrong, I don’t even have words for it.
I haven’t written one of these in a while, have I? A letter I’ll never send. There hasn’t been much of a point. With you in my life, I can just tell you what’s on my mind. But this… I don’t know… this might be something I need to work out for myself.
You looked beautiful the other night. I was so ready to flick that strap on your dress when we got home and watch it fall to the ground at your feet. But then,everything changed, didn’t it? One minute, I was getting ready to ask you to move in with me, the next, you were leaving instead of staying, your goodbye kiss feeling a lot more final than I’d like.
When I answered the call from my old CO, my first response was surprise, curiosity, and maybe even a flicker of pride. Being asked to consult reminded me of the man I used to be. Everyone knew you could turn to Nick Hutton in a pinch, and I’d damn near kill myself trying to get you out. I loved being that guy. And as he was going on about protocol and mission specs and all that, I thought maybe, just maybe, this was a chance to prove I’m not as broken as I thought.
But the second I turned and saw you standing there, that dress billowing in the breeze like the wings of an angel, I knew what I want.
You.
Not the job.
The old version of Nick Hutton needed the validation of accomplishments—Save the world! Sacrifice my life so others can live in safety!—in order to feel like I mattered. You’ve helped me see that it’s who I am, not what I do, that gives my life meaning. A difference that felt subtle at first but gets bigger the more I look at it.
Things between us are good. Like, really good. Do I really want to go back to the way it was before the accident? Me, gone all the time. The two of us communicating via text or video, but not being able to hold you close…
My job was a wedge between us for four years. A wedge I kept shoving into place every time it tried to work its way out. Sure, plenty of active-duty service men and women have families, but that’s not a choice I could ever make. I could never let you experience loss like poor Kate Harper—even after she said she’d go through it all again, knowing what would happen, just to have Mark in her life at all.
But none of that matters because I’ve made my choice, Charlie.
You’re what I want.
I don’t want to consult on missions. That part of my life is over.
I want you. Us. Holding hands and making dinner and talking and laughing then talking some more…
But then you brought up that damn yoga studio, and… I don’t know how to explain it.
It was like the worst kind of flashback.
Suddenly I was back in that hospital bed, listening to you tell me you’d be there with me through all thedifficulties that lay ahead. And me? My dumb ass was convinced I’d be holding you back from living your best life. Back then, I knew, deep in my soul, that if I opened my mouth, I’d thank God for your goodness and beg you to stay. So I said nothing, because I truly believed I was doing what was best for you.
