Page 46 of Tactical Revival

Rosalie takes a seat, and I join her because if I don’t, I’m going to start pacing. “When I got the call from the hospital that you’d been shot?—”

“It was a mistake. They never should have called you. I’d forgotten to update my emergency contact in the system.”

“I know that.” She smiles, but I can see the hurt on her face. “But it was a reminder that I still have things that I need to fix.”

“We’re done. There’s nothing to fix.”

“I know that, too,” she replies. “But I—” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them again, and there are tears shimmering in the depths. “This is harder than I thought it would be. Whew. Okay. I got remarried a year ago.”

“Good for you.”

“He’s a good man. A firefighter.”

“Again, good for you.”

“Anyway, he introduced me to God, and we’ve been going to a Bible study once a week.”

“Okay.”

“The way that I treated you after you nearly died—” She chokes on the words, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I was not a good person. I left you when you needed me most, and what I did was not okay.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that for me to understand.”

“But I need you to know that I am sorry. That if I could go back and change the way I handled things, I would. I was young and stupid when we got married. I hadn’t been ready to settle down. Then with your deployments and you being gone all the time, it weighed on me.”

“So that justifies leaving me to die in a hospital bed?”

“No. Of course not.” She shakes her head. “I waited for you to come home to alleviate my guilt. But I never should have left you. I just—it took me a long time to realize that I’d used you and our marriage to get away from my own family.”

I wish I could say her confession is a surprise, but my own brother warned me that Rosalie was only using me. I was just too blinded by what I thought was love to see it.

“I was blinded by my immaturity,” she says softly. “And I hurt you in ways I never meant to hurt you.”

“What do you want from me, Rosalie? Want me to forgive you? Fine. Done. Want me to tell you it’s okay and coddle you so you can feel good about the life you’re living now? Sorry, I don’t have that in me.”

“Whether you forgive me or not is your choice, and I won’t blame you if you don’t. But I needed to explain it to you, Jaxson. I needed you to know that I am so sorry. That you deserved better. That I should have been there for you as your wife.”

“Things happened the way they did, Rosalie, and there’s no going back.”

“I know that.” She sniffles. “But when I got that call, it was like a sign that I was supposed to talk to you. And it’s been weighing heavy on my heart ever since. I did love you, Jaxson. I want you to know that.”

Her words settle over me, unlocking a bit of the brokenness I’ve carried since the day she left. It doesn’t undo what she did, but maybe I wasn’t quite as over it as I’d thought.

“Jaxson?”

I jump to my feet, still half asleep. Blinking rapidly, I stare down at Margot, who’s standing in front of me, looking incredibly confused. “What? Are you—is everything okay?” Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I turn in a slow circle. It’s still dark, with only a nightlight on.

“You’re downstairs in the B&B kitchen. Are you okay?”

“I—” I rub my eyes again. “I let Rosalie use my apartment.”

Her expression softens, going from worry to understanding. “And you came down to sleep in the kitchen? You could have taken one of the empty rooms. Or put her in one.”

“I didn’t want to make a mess.”

“Jaxson.” She speaks my name softly, then presses a slender hand to my chest. “You can use whatever you need.”

I stare down at her hand, enjoying the warmth of her touch far more than I should be. “What time is it?”

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