Page 14 of Everlasting Love

“I was just thinking about my wish, and it was for you to leave Dad. To find someone who doesn’t ignore you or treat you poorly. But then I realized that I do the same.”

Her shoulders sink, and her brown eyes develop a sheen to them that wasn’t there a moment before. “Oh, Shane. You bothhave your reasons. I wish you would talk to me. That I could help you in some way.” She squeezes my hand. “But hear me. I’ll never leave your father because I love him and … he still loves me in his own way. There are things you don’t understand.” There’s steel in her voice. A determination that can’t be missed.

“But Idounderstand, Mom. That’s the thing. I’ve been there. I”—I tap my chest—“knowwhat it’s like.” A tear escapes the corner of Mom’s eye, and I reach up to wipe it away with my thumb. “I’ll try to do better. Be better.”

And now I know my wish.

I wish to be a better man.

To fight my demons and to come out the victor.

I blow the candles out, and Mom hands me the knife with a nod and a shaky smile. I cut the pound cake—my favorite—careful not to dislodge the strawberries decorating the top, not touching the bottom as per Mom’s instructions, and she takes over to cut three slices. She takes a piece through to Dad and then returns. We eat the cake in silence and enjoy the treats she made especially for me. And this time when I leave, I promise to visit more frequently.

Mom reaches up and cups my cheek as we stand beside my SUV. “You visit as you feel comfortable. I know I can sometimes lay it on pretty thick, and I probably make you feel guilty, but I understand you’re busy and life gets in the way.” Shestilldoesn’t understand. “I know you came back a changed man, and I’ve gathered that you’ve experienced terrible things. My hope is that one day you’ll feel ready to talk with me about it.”

My heart splinters at her hopeful expression. “I’m not sure when that’ll be.”

“That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” She wraps her arms around my middle, and I have to suck in a sharp breath so I don’t break down like a baby in her embrace. I don’t deserve her acceptance or her understanding. Her limitless compassionblows me away and makes me feel unworthy. “I love you, Shane. I miss you, and I hope one day you find your way back to me.”

I can only nod as I squeeze her tight and press a kiss on top of her head. Then I peel myself away from her and head home to spend the rest of my birthday alone—the way I intended to spend the day.

6

SHANE

Sweat drips down my back,making my shirt stick to my skin as I bake in what feels like an oven. The heat is oppressive, coming at me from all directions as I crouch behind the low limestone wall, using it to hide my presence while I scope out our surroundings. The intense heat feels like it’s sucked all the oxygen out of the atmosphere. I struggle to take a full breath, and when I do, dust invades my lungs in this fucking shit hole. What I wouldn’t give to be enjoying an icy cold beer at home with Toby and Wyatt—neither of them have met yet, but I think they’d get along great even though they’re very different people.

The local kids play soccer in the open area next to their school, kicking up plumes of off-white dust as their bodies shift and turn. Mothers walk quickly with their heads down low, attending to errands they need to get done. Mangy dogs scamper among the heaps of garbage left along roadsides. Everything looks as it should for this time of the day. The voice of my team leader crackles in my ear, “Anything?”

“Looks clear.”

“Move forward.”

“Copy that.” Staying low, I move along the wall until I come to the edge of the building. Using the side of the crumbling structure to shield me from possible attack, my leg muscles thank me as I stand to my full height. Resting my back against the wall, I raise my head, checking the tops of the buildings around me. Out of the corner of my eye, a slight movement on the roof of the building to my right catches my attention. Twisting my body to get a better look, a sudden force sends me flying through the air.

I jolt upward, waking in a pool of sweat. Fuck, I haven’t had one of those dreams for a while now. My hands shake as I untangle the covers from around my legs and twist around to place my feet on the cool hardwood floor. I drop my elbows to my knees and hold my head in my hands as I work to get my breathing and thumping heart back under control. I’m not sure where the dreams come from because they’re never theactualevent that forever changed my life. It’s always some vague twist on what happened.

There’s a chill in the air, and my bedroom is still in complete darkness so I check the clock on the nightstand. Four a.m. Great. I got about two hours of sleep. My sleep patterns have been shit for years, and there seems no end in sight. Blowing out a long breath, I stand and push my legs into my sweats, pull my sweater on, run my fingers through my hair, and head to the bathroom to take a piss before making my way to the kitchen.

I flick the switch for the kitchen light as I cross the threshold and start the coffee machine. When I step over to the fridge to grab the milk my lips tip up as my eyes land on a drawing Jasmine made for me. She made me promise that I’d put it on display so it would make me smile whenever I looked at it. I’m not sure why I put it on my fridge; it’s not like she’s going toknow whether or not I display it. My lips drop back into their normal position. What that sweet little girl doesn’t realize is that I don’t deserve to smile.

I grab the milk, and when I close the door, the drawing catches my eye again and my heart does something strange, the same as it does whenever I think of Jasmine and her mom. Every morning when I collect Poppy for school, Jas is waiting at the front door for me with the cutest smile and sparkling eyes. She kisses and hugs her cousin as she steps through the door, and then wraps her little arms around my legs, looking up at me with her innocent eyes and grin as she tells me to have a good day. I shake the thoughts out of my head, make myself a cup of coffee, and grab my Kindle.

Stepping into my dark living room, I place my coffee on the small coffee table, then grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in. Taking a sip of the steaming goodness, I close my eyes for a moment to absorb the warmth, then wake up my Kindle. I’ve been looking forward to starting this book by a new to me author, Janet Elizabeth Henderson.Lingerie Warsfeatures former special forces officer, Lake Benson, and promises to have me laughing my ass off, but we’ll see.

And yes, I read romcoms. Don’t judge.

When I wake from a nightmare, I need something light to break me fully out of the memory, and I’ve found they helpmostof the time. Not always, because some nightmares are worse than others, holding me captive far longer than the tentacles of sleep should allow, but I’ll takemost of the timeas a win. One of the psychs atThe Bunkersuggested I read a book to help me break out of the grip of my nightmares, and I promised to give it a try. I started reading more stereotypical types of books for a guy like me but they didn’t work. It wasn’t until I stumbled across a free romance book online that I found it actually helped. So I’ve stuck with it.

I drop my eyes to my Kindle and begin reading as I sip my coffee.Jesus, how old is this guy? How is he already having a mid-life crisis? And what the hell is he thinking taking over his sister’s lingerie store?I lose myself in the story, huffing out a mild chuckle here and there. Objectively, the book is funny. Hilarious even. But my ability to truly enjoy anything seems to be on a permanent hiatus.

Soft light creeps around the edges of my blinds, and I glance at the time. Seven. Time to start getting ready for the damn parade. I should have gone to the sunrise service today, but I generally try to avoid watching the sunrise. I don’t like to be reminded of a new day.

A day that Wyatt doesn’t get to spend with his family.

Another day that I’m still here while he isn’t.

I run my hand down my face and take a moment to think about today—Veteran’s Day—and what it represents. To think about Wyatt and everything he left behind. Everything his wife and son lost that afternoon. The fact that he’s not here to march alongside me as he should. Guilt floods my veins once again as it always does when I think back to that day. I drop my head into my hands, blow out a long stream of warm air, and blink quickly to hold back the sting of tears. I don’t know how many times I’ve cried in private over what happened that day. Life is so damn unfair sometimes. He was a good guy and had a family who loved him. My hands ball into fists, and I shoot to my feet.Fuck this.

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