Page 393 of Chaos has a Name
He wasn’t sure she was kidding. With Elizabeth, one never knew.
Elizabeth had work to do, and little time to play around.
“Now that the testosterone is done flowing, Ivan, take the bone, head, and my son outside. Everyone follow him. I’d like to interview Uriel as to what time this all went down last night, and if he saw anything.”
Without an issue, they followed her directive, leaving them alone.
When she pointed to the couch, he met her there and sat down.
“You’ve got it bad,” she said.
He simply nodded.
Oh, tell him about it.
Caspian felt like he was neck deep in quicksand, and sinking fast.
“What happened?”
He began reporting like he would with Ivan. Uriel was short, sweet, and to the point.
“I got here around eleven, and I opted to stay. The dog barked around one thirty-two, like I said, and we woke up to this.”
She stopped him.
“No, I meant to your heart. You already gave it to her, didn’t you? I know you, Cas, and I can tell you’re already attached to her.”
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, that hardened Marine was gone, and in his place was Caspian—the normal guy with normal emotions and feelings.
Nodding, she sighed.
“You’re not coming home with us, are you?” she asked, reading the room.
How she knew, he had no idea? How she picked that up when he’d not said a word…?
Yeah, he’d been thinking just that.
Never let it be said that Elizabeth wasn’t a mother to her core.
She absolutely was.
For Uriel, this was the hardest decision of his life, and he was between two big boulders.
Love and love.
“I don’t want to quit, Elizabeth. I love my job, and you guys are my family. I just need some time. I started something, and I don’t think I’ll be okay if I walk away. My gut tells me to keep my ass here. I just don’t understand why yet.”
She took his hand, and he held hers.
“I have vacation time…”
Elizabeth leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. The second she did that, it brought tears to his eyes. In his youth, acts of love and showing it were not something his family did.
He grew up under the regimented fist of a general for everything. You didn’t show emotion, or you were weak. You didn’t ask for help, or you were pathetic. You didn’t cry out when you were hurt or you were a loser.
It took him ten years with the Blackhawks to realize that men could cry, and that feelings mattered. He’d been reprogrammed, and now, he was on the cusp of having to let the people he loved go.
