Page 126 of Stay for Me

My brows lifted. “Dead husband, no.” I tilted my head. “Charred and burned husband, yes.”

“Mags,” she whimpered.

“Is that what she told you? That I died last year?” I quipped, my jaw hard as I kept my gaze on the stranger.

The man shook his head, confusion twisting his features. “Last year? No, man, she told me she’d been widowed for two years.”

If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would’ve laughed. “Right,” I muttered, reaching for the bottom of my shirt. I lifted it up, exposing my badges, my marks of honor. “I’ve been deployed for a while, and a few months back, I got hit by a bomb in the field. The Corp wouldn’t let me come home until the chance of infection was below a certain percentage. If they had, I wouldn’t have made the flight back,” my eyes cut to Ashley, “which would’ve made your little lie true, baby.”

“Stop,” she begged. “I didn’t—I just—well, what did you expect me to do, Mags?”

I stared at her, waiting for the remorse, the regret. When she gave me nothing, I shook my head, dropped my shirt and held up my hand, showing her the band on my fourth finger. “I expected my wife to honor the vows we both took in that shitty little court house years ago, Ashley. That’s the fuck I expected you to do.”

She stared at me, tears finally starting to form. Though, I didn’t know if they were for me or for the relationship I just ruined for her. “I was lonely,” she blubbered.

I chuckled. “You don’t know the meaning of the damn word.” I looked over at my replacement. “Leave her or stay, I don’t care, but you better take care of that boy, understood? I know he’s yours, but for the last six months, in my head, he was mine. You better fuckin’ do right by him, or I’ll kill you.”

My eyes shot back to her, and I twisted off the ring and tossed it on the bed. “You’ll get the papers in the mail. Keep the house. Keep the Mustang. I don’t give a shit. I’m done.”

I turned on my heel ,and I was gone.

“Mags!” she called after me, but I didn’t look back.

I was out of the door, bag on my shoulder, walking down the street into the sunset. As the miles stretched on, time passing me by without a second care, I waited for the heartbreak to come.

It never did.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Diana

“Mags?”Icalledaftera few moments of silence.

He was no longer looking at me, but rather, at the front door, clearly in a different place. His hands had fallen from my face, and I watched in interested horror as the cowboy on his knees in front of me disappeared. A lump formed in my throat as I studied his profile, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. I knew, after years of being around Denver and witnessing his PTSD, that this may very well be a flashback.

I also knew not to touch him right now, despite my dire need. All I could do was softly call him name and remind him ofwhereandwhenhe was.

“Mags, it’s Diana,” I said softly, leaning down. “You’re here on Hallow Ranch, in your cabin.”

I held my breath, waiting, watching, silently praying he would come back to me. Outside, the late afternoon sun had begun to shine between the clouds, its rays coming in through the windows, highlighting the floor. “I’m right here, Mags,” I continued. “I’m right here, waiting for you, but I need you to come back for me.”

He bent his head, lost in the past.

I took an unsteady breath, my hands shaking along with my voice. “You asked me to stay for you, and I have. Come back to me, babe. Please. Please come back to me, Mags.”

Pressing my lips together, I looked over my shoulder to the journal on the desk—all his secrets, his nightmares and dreams, all in one place.

“Diana.”

My head whipped back around to find those dark eyes I loved so much, his brow pinched with regret. He brought his hand up, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Sorry about that, Firefly. I’m so sorry. I just—”

“What was it?” I asked, still unsure whether I should touch him. “What triggered it?”

He stared at me for a long time. “You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?” he murmured.

I nodded. “Yes. With Denver.”

“Mm.”

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