Page 115 of Mariposa
My eyes brighten.
“Why did you join the army?”
His softened gaze sweeps my face, making heat swim into my chest. We stare at each other for a pregnant moment.
I might have struck a chord with this question.
“At first, it seemed like the best option to take care of my family at the time. I was going to get out after my first contract was up. Penny could stay home, get her degree, and care for our child, so she didn’t have to worry about the bills. We were young, and that’s what she wanted. I don’t come from money. It was the best decision for an eighteen-year-old with no college education or work experience. It gave us all insurance and a little house on the army post where I was stationed.”
He takes a breath.
“I wanted to care for them the only way I knew how. I sacrificed to give them a good life. I didn’t have much growing up. I wore the same clothes for years because my mom couldn’t afford to get us all new ones for her growing sons and daughters. I shared a room with four of my siblings. My mother slept on the bed beside my two sisters while my brother and I slept on the floor with a blanket and pillow. I wanted to give my son his own bedroom—something I never had. I wanted him to have a bed to sleep in—his own pillow to lie his head on. I wanted to be able to afford to give him clothes that fit him as he grew older. And I wanted Penny to be able to finish school without worrying about working on top of studying and being a mom to our baby.”
I can’t imagine being a teenage parent. He’s a man that way. He wanted to take care of everything so Penny and Adam could chase their dreams and not worry about how they would eat or pay for a home.
“And then what happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said the plan was to get out after you finished your first contract. Why did you re-enlist?”
His eyes narrow.
“Well, you don’t see a wedding band on this finger, do you?”
Of course.
His divorce from Penny may have heavily affected that decision.
“My mother was a single mom, and to say she struggled is an understatement. She was also a teen mom. So when Penny left and took Adam with her, feeding him a narrative that I didn’t want to be a part of his life…that wound cut deeper and bled longer. I needed my family to stick together. This might sound fucking stupid, but I’ve always wanted to see them welcome me back home with a sign above their heads when I returned from missions or deployment. That was a silly thing to crave, is what Penny told me, so she never did it. The truth eventually came out…she’d been cheating on me with multiple men, then said it was my fault she cheated. She said I worked too much,” he huffs.
What?
Penny’d had affairs?
I can’t believe Penny and Adam had never greeted him when he came back home. My heart chips further after hearing Kade’s side of things. There are multiple sides to every story, and this is his truth. My chest hitches as I pull myself closer to him, his cologne mixed with his cigarettes still stapled to him.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
I shake my head to clear my brain fog.
“What I meant to say was, did Booker help you through that dark time? Because you had lost your reason? Because Penny and Adam made you believe you were unworthy and guilty for choosing this career?”
Silence. He doesn’t say a word as I wait for what feels like minutes. He keeps his focus ahead of him to the point I don’t think he’ll answer my questions anymore. It all makes sense. The way he’s so closed off with his emotions. The way he drowns himself in work, so he doesn’t have the option to become a family man. I need him to know it’s not too late for him—andfor us. I want to bring up what Karen said to him, but it doesn’t matter anymore in the grand scheme. We just lost our friends, and the enemy is on our heels. When Kade makes up his mind and says he’s done. He’s done.
“Being alone isn’t a weakness, Kade. It means you’re standing up for what you deserve, but don’t let that experience make you feel like you can’t live the rest of your life the way you want to—with someone who chooses you every day and would wait years if they have to.”
“Stop talking, Isla.” Kade snaps, his shoulder brushing against thick tree bark.
“No.”
“Stubborn ass,” Booker hisses from behind.
Is the fucker listening to us?
“Did you still try to make it work with her after the affair?”
