Karen Whiddon - The Texas Soldier's Son

Getting Jacob released to leave took a lot longer than he’d thought. The way the nurse had talked, the doctor would sign some paper and that was that. He figured it’d take a couple of minutes, but when a half hour turned into forty-five, he could barely keep his frustration under control.

To make matters worse, someone dropped something metal out in the hall, and Kyle found himself on the floor, in full defensive cover position. While at Walter Reed hospital, they’d told him he’d need therapy to get help with his PTSD. He’d have to find someone local, once he got settled in.

Slowly, he got to his feet. Stone-faced, he hoped his expression hadn’t revealed his embarrassment, but all of Nicole’s attention was focused on her baby. As if she hadn’t even noticed. He had a sneaking suspicion she was doing this to spare his feelings, but couldn’t ask her.

Finally, after nearly an hour had passed, the nurse returned, along with the doctor. They gave Nicole instructions, what to watch for, that sort of thing, and then informed her she could go.

He followed her outside. When she reached her car, a late model shiny black BMW, she turned to face him. “I know we need to talk,” she began. “But I’m exhausted and really would like to go home and get some rest. Let’s plan on meeting up some time tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He pulled out his phone. “What’s your number?”

She gave it to him and he entered it into his contacts. “I’ll text you mine,” he said.

“Thank you.” She unlocked her car.

Feeling out of sorts, he watched her while she buckled little Jacob into his infant carrier. She barely looked at Kyle once she’d done that, getting into the driver’s side, starting the engine and buckling herself in. Finally, she waved before driving away.

Fool that he was, he watched her go and wondered how he could both love and hate someone at the same time.

The next morning, while he drank a cup of strong black coffee made in his new coffeepot, he texted Nicole his number. Thirty minutes later, she texted back, asking him if he had some free time to sit down and talk. She’d prefer to come to his place. When he asked why, she texted that she had a strong suspicion someone was watching her house.

He gave her the address and told her to come over in about an hour. That’d give him time to shower and get dressed.

Exactly fifty-nine minutes later, the black BMW pulled up in front of his little house. He watched from the front window, keeping his eye on the street so he could see if she’d been followed.

When no other vehicle showed up, he opened his front door and went out to help her. She unlocked the trunk, asking him if he’d mind getting the portable Pack n’ Play. While he wrestled this out onto the sidewalk, she handled the baby and a large diaper bag.

Inside the house, he set down the contraption in the middle of the living room. To his surprise, once he opened it, the thing practically set itself up.

“Thank you.” Nicole smiled at him, and the entire world shifted.

He blinked, turning away until he could ground himself back in reality. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, his voice gruffer than he intended.

Barely looking up from getting her baby settled, she responded. “Water would be great.”

Listen to them. Talking in careful platitudes as if they were complete strangers. In a way, they actually were.

Except that only one year—one stinking year—had passed since he’d kissed her goodbye and gone off to serve his country. How could so much have changed in such a short period of time?

But it had. Returning with two bottled waters, he handed one to her before taking a seat in the armchair, leaving the entire couch for her.

“Nice place,” she commented, glancing around the small room.

“Yours is much nicer,” he pointed out. Not to be cruel, but because it was. But her smile faltered and for one second she looked sad.

But then she lifted her chin and willed herself out of it. “Thank you. It isn’t what I would have chosen, but it’s a decent house.”

Decent.

A flash of anger ripped through him. He realized he couldn’t just sit there and act as if they were casual acquaintances, like nothing had ever happened between them. As though she hadn’t been his entire reason for living.

“I can’t do this,” he growled. “I know you’ve moved on—I get it. For you, it’s been a long time. For me, it feels like it was just yesterday when you kissed me and told me you’d love me forever.”

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