Page 35 of His to Claim

“Yes, you mentioned her. What happened?” she asks softly.

Our fingers thread together and I look down, needing her touch more than she realizes. “Well, I learned I was a terrible boyfriend.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I always put my job first which I had to do while a spec ops guy. We had to pick up leave at a moment’s notice. That’s just the way it was, what I signed up for. But, with hindsight, I realize that I used my job as an excuse, a crutch.”

She waits patiently while I gather my thoughts, trying to figure out the best way to share my story. The best way to let her know what an asshole I was.

“We moved in together and after a few months, I could feel myself drifting away. Maybe I lost interest or maybe it was because I was so focused on work. But I knew I should break up with her. I didn’t, though, because I didn’t want to deal with her getting upset and the drama of her moving out and probably hating me. So instead of facing our failed relationship, I ran off on missions and took my anger and frustration out on the enemy.”

God, I wish I had a beer. Having to face my past failures sober is a little daunting. And sharing them with Carlotta? Not the easiest thing I’ve ever done. In fact, it’s fucking brutal and makes me feel like the lowest kind of heel.

“So, I was gone on an op and the entire time, I kept thinking about how I was going to break it off with her when I got back. I was determined to do it this time. Sometimes things don’t work out, that’s life, right? I just didn’t want to pretend anymore. Maybe we both knew it was over. I don’t know. Normally, on my way home, I’d usually call to give her a heads-up, but I didn’t bother this time. My phone rang when I was almost home and I saw her name, but…I didn’t answer. I figured I’d see her in a couple of minutes, right? When I pulled in the driveway, I parked and sat there for a minute, getting ready to face her to tell her it was over.”

My gut churns at the memory.

“How’d she take it?”

“She never got to hear my spiel. Halfway up the driveway, I noticed the front door was ajar. I dropped my duffel bag, grabbed my Glock and went inside. The place was a mess, like somebody had trashed it. Things were missing, broken, and I knew we’d been robbed. I remember calling her name, moving through the house, but she didn’t answer.”

I pause and pull in a deep steadying breath. Carlotta is still holding my hand and it gives me the strength to continue.

“I could feel something was wrong and when I stepped into the bedroom, I saw her. Laying on the floor in a pool of blood, a couple of gunshot wounds to the chest. Her cell phone was clutched in her hand. She’d tried calling me and I ignored it.”

“Oh, God.”

“I was too late. She was already gone, the robbers were already gone and there was nothing I could do except call the police. Eventually, they caught the assholes responsible and they went to prison for her murder. I left the military not long after because my focus was all over the place. I blamed myself for what happened. I wasn’t there and I know I could’ve prevented it. I would’ve stopped those assholes and Caitlin would still be alive.”

“It’s not your fault,” Carlotta says softly. “And what if you couldn’t have stopped them? You might’ve been hurt or worse.”

“I would’ve fucking stopped them with a bullet to the head. I promise you that,” I state darkly, and I can’t miss the shiver that runs through her body.

“Maybe, but you have no idea what might’ve happened. It was a horrible thing that occurred, but you can’t blame yourself.”

“I do, though. Every single day for the past five years. And I hate myself for not being there to protect her and even more for wanting to break up with her.”

“Oh, Damon, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But, please believe me when I say it wasn’t your fault. It was a tragedy, pure and simple, and it had nothing to do with you wanting to end things.”

“I never loved her,” I admit in a low, tortured voice. “She would say the words so freely and I couldn’t even choke them out. She told me I’d say them when I was ready, but I wasn’t able to give her what she wanted or deserved. I never said them. I don’t think I’m capable of such a deep emotion. Not with anybody.”

Our eyes meet and she shakes her head.

“You loved your parents, right?” she asks.

“I guess. It was so long ago and I barely remember them. I’ve just accepted my brokenness, Carlotta. Nothing can fix me.”

Carlotta lets go of my hand and stands up, hands going on her hips. So feisty, so determined to prove me wrong. “Love can fix you, Damon Archer. It can seal the cracks and mend your soul. Don’t doubt its power. I’ve seen its healing strength firsthand with all of my brothers.” Her voice lowers, becoming more gentle. “Maybe it’s not always romantic love. It could be a friend’s love or a family’s love or a child’s love. Promise me you won’t give up on yourself.”

I reach my hands out and she instantly takes them. “How did you get so wise?” I ask, tugging her onto my lap.

“I am wise,” she declares saucily, cupping my face, looking right into my eyes. “And my first pearl of wisdom to you is to kiss the woman in your arms immediately.”

“That seems like pretty sound advice,” I tease.

“Oh, it is,” she assures me with a mischievous grin.

Unable to resist, I capture her mouth in a kiss that soothes my soul and gives my heart hope. Maybe she’s right. Perhaps one day I will be able to forgive myself and let go of the past. Right now, though, I’m determined to just enjoy the present. I don’t want to think about the future, either. All I want to do is absorb Carlotta’s light and positive energy.

---