Page 67 of Tameron

“I’m not hungry.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

No, he never was. Resigning myself to my fate, I plopped down on a chair. The fact that Nash didn’t tell me to wash my hands was not a good omen. It meant he knew something was going on, something bad enough that he was giving me a break. How did I get him off my back?

I watched him confidently move around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients and tools with practiced ease. Nash had always been like that—efficient and purposeful in his movements, no wasted energy. It was part of what had made himsuch a great soldier and capable leader, and now it translated perfectly into his new role as an EMT. Even something as simple as making breakfast became a carefully orchestrated operation.

The familiarity of it all made my chest ache. How many mornings had I watched him do this exact same thing? Making enough food to feed an army because that’s what we were, his little army of broken soldiers that he’d taken under his wing. Soon, there would be two fewer mouths to feed. The thought made my throat tight. Change was coming, whether I was ready for it or not.

He looked good though, more relaxed than I’d seen him in ages. The EMT work suited him, gave him purpose again. Unlike me, Nash had found his place in the civilian world. He’d rebuilt himself into something new while still maintaining his core identity. I envied that about him, his ability to adapt and thrive no matter what life threw at him.

He plated a generous helping of eggs and some bacon, then put it in front of me. “Talk.”

“Nothing to say. I went for a drive.”

“At three in the morning?” He quirked an eyebrow. “After spending the night at Dayton’s?”

I stabbed a piece of bacon with my fork. “How did you know I was at Dayton’s?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. Plus, he texted me to make sure you got home okay.”

Warmth flooded my chest. Of course he had. Because that was who Dayton was—caring, considerate, always putting others first. “I’m fine.”

“You’re many things, but fine isn’t one of them.” Nash sat across from me with his own plate of food. “Something’s eating at you. Has been for a while.”

I shrugged, pushing the eggs around my plate.

“Is it Bean and Creek moving out?”

My fork clattered against the plate. “What makes you think that?”

“Because I know you. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the way that went down. I know you wanted to tell them about you being bi, and that got completely overshadowed by their announcements. That one’s on me. I should’ve managed that better.”

I snorted, though part of me did feel better that he’d acknowledged it. “It’s not your responsibility anymore to manage us, you know?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I mean it. It’s not.”

“That’s not how I see it, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is you and the fact that you’re struggling with the changes.”

I was so not meeting those inquisitive eyes right now. “I’m happy for them.”

“You can be happy for them and still be sad or even angry about them leaving. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

I blew out a long breath. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise. You just never listened.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words. “Talk to me. Please.”

And for the second time, I did. I talked. “Everyone’s moving on. They’re finding their place, their purpose, and I’m… I’m still stuck. Still lost. Still broken.”

“You’re not broken.”

“No? I beg to differ since there’s a lot in my body and head that’s not functioning the way it’s supposed to.”

“Not functioning the way it’s supposed to, maybe,” Nash said. “But that doesn’t mean broken. Different isn’t the same as broken.”

“You sound like Dayton.”

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