Page 93 of The Lair

“Enlisting was the obvious path after I graduated high school. I wasn’t particularly patriotic, but at least my uncle would have one less thing to worry about.”Thing. He isn’t athing. If my heart wasn’t broken before, it sure is now. “I spent twelve years in the Navy, sending him as much money as I could. That’s how he eventually opened The Lair. It did well, and our financial struggles disappeared shortly after.”

“I’m sure your uncle is very proud of you,” I tell him.I’m proud of you. “You changed both of your lives.”

It’s difficult to explain how my body is able to feel the shift around us. How the air thickens, how the tension rolls off his body in invisible but powerful waves.

“There was a cost. I’ve seen some shit in the Navy, Allie. Shit no human should fucking see.”

All because he wanted to keep a roof over his uncle’s head. Because he wanted to put food on his table. Because he wanted a better future for the one man who had always been there for him.

“I left after twelve years because I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve seen friends die before my eyes. Men who had families here, children, wives they couldn’t wait to go back to. I’ve seen…”

He shuts his eyes, and I squeeze his fingers again. He brings both of our hands to his face, and I caress his bearded cheek as he leans into my touch, a heavy breath leaving his chest.

“I came back a different man.” His whispered voice is rough, pained. And I won’t, but I itch to climb into his lap and hug him until the horrors go away. “A detached, lone fucker who gave up on too many hopes he didn’t know he had.”

His chest shakes with a heavy breath. “I bought this place three years ago. I got a good feeling about it but thought it was too large for just me. I got it despite…”

Suddenly, I understand that this is who Travis has been all along—a sheltered soul waiting for the right moment to crack open.

“I used to want a family of my own. I didn’t grow up with great parents, but I wanted to…” He runs his free hand through his short hair, exhaustion marring his face. “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t allow my parents or the shit they did and didn’t do to define my formative years. I always saw my uncle as my only father figure, so it’s not like…”

Travis isn’t a man of many words, and this conversation only proves it. How the words get stuck in his throat, struggling to come out, to say what he wants to tell me.

I can feel the frustration rolling off his body, so I keep caressing his cheek and ask in a slow, gentle voice, “You wanted to be a dad?”

A sea of goose bumps breaks out on my skin when he nods. Why does the thought of Travis having children with some faceless woman make me breathless? I’m ridiculous.

After the hell my parents put me through, the idea of having children of my own wasn’t appealing for a long time. But over the years, I started to realize I would nevereverdo to my kids what my family did to me. I might be a liar, but I’m not a controlling narcissist.

For the past couple of years, I’ve imagined what it would be like to start a family someday with a man who loves me and shares my values—values that don’t include compromising our kids’ safety for a check. But that man can’t and will never be Travis, so I should tell my heart to stop beating so fast at the mere idea of a future I have no right to imagine.

It’s surprisingly easy to forget about all those things when the reality of what he’s just confessed sinks in.

He used to want a family. He used to want to be a father.

Used to.

“You don’t want that anymore?” I ask, hoping he understands he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to.

“After I came back, the horrors I’d seen… I couldn’t stand the idea of losing anyone I cared about. Still can’t.”

It’s only now that what I should’ve realized from the start clicks—Travis never gets close to anyone because he’s scared of losing them.

That’s why he’s a total grump at the bar. Why he would rather work than hang out with his friends. Why he hasn’t been in arelationship for years. Because, if he allowed himself to build connections, he could end up hurt again.

“But you still bought a big house,” I wonder out loud, my voice so quiet that I have no clue if he can even hear me.

Everything about him makes so much more sense now, the things he does and doesn’t do. Every little thing.

For fuck’s sake, Allie. Because I want you to be safe at all times, goddammit. If anything happened to you…

Didn’t he say that to me when he was trying to convince me to move in with him?

I couldn’t stand the idea of losing anyone I cared about. Still can’t.

“I keep this room empty because I once hoped it would become a nursery, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen anymore.”

The air whooshes out of my lungs.

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