Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Sure he could sober up. Go back over there. Try to bungle their way through this, but in the end the result would be the same. Whether today or two months from now, Maddox was leaving him. Maddox didn’t need him, not like Ben needed Maddox. And he refused to be the one begging and pleading. The needy one. He’d heard his mother call him that once when she hadn’t known he could hear—her needy kid. He wasn’t going to be Maddox’s needy lover. Not when Maddox couldn’t even be bothered to talk through life fucking altering decisions with him.
He flipped his phone over. Not surprisingly, it was full of messages from Maddox, asking him to talk, but Ben was fresh out of words, might never utter another syllable that mattered again. Because how in the hell did you tell your best friend that you loved him too much to lose him? Finally losing the war, Ben lowered his head to his knees and sobbed like he hadn’t in decades. There was no coming back from this, no getting over it. He just wasn’t that strong.
* * *
“Tell me again why I have to do this?” Maddox asked as he hefted himself into Apollo’s SUV. His friend and fellow SEAL looked him over with obvious concern in his dark eyes. Maddox knew he looked like shit, but that was what a week and a half of not sleeping would do to a guy. He’d managed a clean shirt. That should count for something.
“Your team wants to send you off right. You go, have a few beers with them, let them make some mushy speeches in your honor, and promise to keep in touch. It’s not that hard.” Apollo put the car in drive, headed in the direction of the bar near base that all the SEALs favored. In addition to Maddox’s team, a bunch of his other friends from the teams and support personnel were scheduled to be there.
“Everyone’s pissed at me for leaving.” Maddox looked out the window at the passing traffic, but his thoughts were miles away. About 15 miles to be exact, over in Oceanside where Ben had been staying in his parents’ house.
“Everyone is not Ben,” Apollo said firmly. “And you know that. They respect your decision. As do I. You have to live your life the way you want it. Life’s too short for anything less than going for your dreams.”
“Yeah.” Maddox knew Apollo understood that better than most people. But it was hard not to dwell on Ben’s reaction when he was the only one who mattered, when he was the dream Maddox wanted most. “Just wish he’d talk to me. I sent him a text about tonight.”
“I did too.” Apollo sighed. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
“They’re not.” Maddox wasn’t sure it was possible to have any lower hopes than he had after days of no communication from Ben, just missing belongings from his room and a cryptic note on the counter that he was at his folks’ place. No response to his texts or calls.
“Okay, we’re here. You got your cane?” Apollo had to park across the street from the bar as the bar’s parking lot was overflowing with cars.
Heck. A lot of people had turned out for this. It wasn’t a funeral for Pete’s sake, but apparently everyone wanted to say goodbye. Maddox’s sinuses burned and they hadn’t even crossed the street yet. This was going to be a long night, trying not to get all sappy at seeing everyone together, and not seeing the one person he wanted.
But maybe...
Maybe he’d come. Maybe he’d know how much this meant to Maddox. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Maybe he’d have softened, be ready to talk. Maybe.
But maybe was just another form of wishing on clouds, and Maddox really needed to know better by now. The bar was full of people he knew—the LT and his wife, teammates and their spouses, even cranky old Rogers and the saint of a girlfriend who put up with him. Apollo’s fiancé, Dylan, had stayed home with the kids, but both Pike and Zack had come out. Everyone wanted to buy him a round, say a few words, give him a pat on the back, and it was hard to draw a full breath with the crush of people.
But through it all, his eyes kept scanning the entrance for Ben. Nothing.
“So what’s next for you?” Pike asked as people swirled around them. Maddox had managed to find a stool at one of the high tables so at least his leg was out of danger of getting stepped on.
“Not sure.” That was the million-dollar question, the one Maddox had wrestled with the past week. He honestly had no clue, no roadmap to going on without Ben. “But I visited that vacant building near your school. It’s kind of a pipe dream, but it would make a nice bakery.”