Page 2 of What I Should Have Done

“I just wanted to make sure she knew how beautiful I found her no matter what her body looked like. She’d made a comment earlier about feeling fat and…” His voice trailed off as he stared out the front windshield.

“You guys have been married for five years now, and this conversation happened two years ago, right? That’s a long time to carry guilt. Besides, I think she knew you were teasing,” I replied, closing my eyes as the whine of his diesel engine drowned out the rest of the traffic.

Cracking an eyelid open, I wiggled my brows. “Anyway, ever think that was why she asked to go skinny dipping in the first place?”

He knotted his jaw and rolled his eyes. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too, man.” I grinned and closed my eyes again as Griffin steered the truck onto the highway. “Besides, if it had truly bothered her, she’d have let you know. Jane doesn’t put up with your shit.”

“No, no she doesn’t,” he replied quietly.

We continued on in silence, the gentle whisper of the air conditioner dancing across my face. Luxuries of a world that hadn’t been mine in months now rested at my fingertips. There was a part of my soul that was envious of Griffin—of his life that seemed so calm and consistent.

Right now things were at least calm, and the longer that we drove, the closer I was to that consistent life I’d been experiencing with Rachel. Three years of coming back to her was the unvarying part of my life, but there was something…

“Do you miss it?” I finally asked, breaking the serenity that had settled thick in the air.

The sound of Griffin shifting in his seat reached my ears as the truck bumped over something on the road and we slowed.

“Sometimes.” His hesitant answer held words unspoken, and I opened my eyes. A shadow dipped across his face, as ominous as what he didn’t say. He ran a hand over his jaw. “Sometimes I feel like I let the team down. That my place in this world isn’t here, but I also know it isn’t there.”

Weaving away from the stretch of concrete highway, homes began sprouting around us. Subdivisions budded against a quaint horizon. “Jane.” That was all I needed to say as he nodded.

“The other day, she actually mentioned an idea of starting a private security offshoot from the company,” he replied, spinning the wheel with his palm.

“Just keep a spot open for the rest of us. Then when we all retire, we’ll just hop on over to work for you. Again.” A chuckle escaped my chest.

A grin spread across his lips, the lightness returning to his eyes. “You think it’s a solid idea?”

“Fuck yeah, man. I couldn’t imagine retiring to sit in a damn cubicle all day. If you don’t do this, then somebody better blow my ass up overseas ’cause there’s not enough therapy in the world to fix what’s messed up in my head.”

“Shit, I doubt I’m totally ‘fixed,’ but Jane sure makes the hell we’ve been through a little more worth it.” He paused and ran a hand over his jaw. “She makes things quiet. I never knew what quiet truly sounded like until she came around.”

My brows twitched and I shifted my gaze out the window. “Rachel doesn’t do that,” I confessed. It was unintentional, but the words escaped my lips before I could clip them away.

Griffin slowed the truck even more and glanced at me, his gaze intensifying. “But you proposed to her?”

“Yeah.”

“So, maybe you’re just feeling nervous for this leave since wedding planning will be on in full blast.”

“Shit, I haven’t even thought about any of that stuff.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much about that.” He clamped a hand on my shoulder and urged the truck over to the curb. “We live pretty fucked up lives, and I doubt Rachel will be upset that what color the napkins will be wasn’t a priority while you were deployed. She’s put up with you for three years now.” Griffin removed his grip on my shoulder and turned the truck off.

I leaned my head back, glancing at the simple, brick building to my right. There it was. The house that was supposed to be my home with the woman that was my past, present, and future. She was the one thing that remained the same. The one constant in my life.

Inhaling deeply, my lungs expanded with a breath of not just reassurance but encouragement. Rachel was inside. Waiting for me as she had been every deployment up to now.

“By the way,” Griffin continued. He popped open his door, jarring me from my thoughts. “Have you guys finally found someone permanent for the team?”

“You’re a hard man to replace, Reaper.” I pushed open my own door and jumped down, raising a brow in his direction as he rounded the front of the truck. The perfume of freshly cut grass lingered in the air. Bright green stains from a mower tracked across the driveway that led up to a white garage.

“Hasn’t it been long enough?” Griffin’s eyes traced across the same house I stood frozen in front of, my rucksack dangling over one single shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe…” My mind barely processed what he asked as my attention locked onto an unfamiliar, puke-green Toyota Tacoma in my driveway. Rachel drove a white Honda CRV, and I had my Silver Tundra and motorcycle. Neither of us owned a Tacoma, and I couldn’t recall a family member of hers that had one either. My family didn’t exist—literally—so there was no way it was them.

Every nerve stood on end, prickling as if a thousand spiders crawled beneath my skin. Even Griffin remained silent, his gaze narrowing on the same vehicle holding me glued to the cement. With each heartbeat hammering against my ribs, fate stole me closer and closer to a fear that was eating away at whatever sanity still held me calm and collected.

---