Page 44 of How Much For A Broken Heart?

“Now, Army.” He struggled to get out of the chair, as if he was going to walk himself.

I heaved a sigh and encouraged him to sit down. “Sure thing, Navy.”

We were halfway back, silence all-consuming, and an apology on my lips, when we turned the final corner and walked straight into the worst thing of all.

Annie.

Chapter Sixteen

AUGUST

“Shit,” I heard Ryder mutter, and he stopped so fast it jolted me.

I was past the point where it hurt now, healing well, desperate to get out of the room, and now the chair, and even though I was still riding that anger of him insisting I see Annie, I wanted to throw something at him.

A quip, a one-liner to make light of the situation.

I’d gotten too used to his smiles, and he was my anchor in the ocean of shit, where the world outside seemed to go on as usual, people living their lives, while I was stuck in a holding pattern.

“You see a shark, Army?” I snarked, but he still hadn’t shifted, and that was when I saw her—Annie, my little girl, with that guy Josh, who was always poking his head in my room asking me if I wanted anything.

Yeah, I wanted out.

He never listened, just freaking smiled at me.

He was talking with a hand puppet as they walked. Annie was laughing up at him, and jealousy stabbed me. What was she doing with him? Why did he get to see her smile?

But the burn of envy turned to ice in my chest—he would make a good dad, right? Always smiling, had a kid of his own, which he’d told me in detail when I’d been too broken to turn over and ignore him. Annie deserved a big brother, and a dad who was stable—dads—or a mom maybe.

But his husband was Ethan, and Ethan was Shadow Team, and that made him vulnerable and…

My head hurt.

This wasn’t some kind of parade for potential parents.

Fuck this. She was four, and entitled to smile at the man who was helping her, when I couldn’t. Flashes of that last morning, of James and the pancakes, and Buzzy-Bear, and Annie’s smiles made my chest tight. As they drew closer, she slowed down, frowning at the two of us—Ryder behind, me sitting in the damn chair. Her approach was hesitant, and she gripped Josh’s hand, heading toward me with careful, measured, steps. I could see confusion in her eyes as she drew closer, then she passed by with a quick glance, chattering on with Josh, who glanced at me with an expression of something like sorrow. There had been nothing in her beautiful eyes—so like James’s.

She didn’t know me.

I didn’t want her to remember me.

I didn’t want to tell her about her dad, and Buzzy-Bear, and…

Fuck. I want her to remember me.

“Ryder, move.”

“August—”

“Please.” I wasn’t demanding now, I was begging.

He didn’t argue, but pushed me in silence into the main house, waited for the old elevator, and neither of us talked as we headed up to my room. I got myself out of the chair, got myself into bed, laid down, and turned my back to Ryder.

“You can go now,” I said, monotone.

“If you want to talk?—”

“Just go.”

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