Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“I’m deploying.”
Sam drew back and her wide eyes flew to mine, interrupted by my paper bag every few seconds as it expanded. “Oh, Morgan.”
“It’s not the same, Sam.”
“To her, it is.”
They both fell silent as I breathed like it was my full-time job. For the last four months, it had been. How had I only lived here for four months? Is that really how long I’d known Jackson? God, and I was already so far gone that I was breathing through a paper bag. This wouldn’t be the only time he deployed. This was who he was.
Slowly, my breathing returned to normal and the buzzing faded in my head. My throat was still constricted, but that would pass once the meds kicked in. Not that it mattered because I’d be asleep soon after that.
I dropped the bag to the floor and sat with my head against the wall, arching my neck. “You should go.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got her, Sam,” Jackson said softly.
“No.” I lowered my head and found him watching me. Beautiful, kind, magnetic, head over heels in love with me—and a loaded freaking gun when it came to my mental health. “You should go, Jackson.”
“Morgan?” His eyes flared.
“Go. This isn’t going to get any better the more we talk about it.” My heart screamed in protest. “I need you to go.”
He warred with himself, with my words. It was all over his face. “Okay. I need to talk to Fin. And Claire. Shit. Okay. I’ll come by for breakfast tomorrow?”
Quick cuts were better. I shook my head. “No. I need you to go for good.”
“This is not over. This is…I don’t know what this is because it’s not a fight. This is a blip on the radar, Kitty.” Agony. That was the only way to describe the look in his eyes and the rending of those stitches in my heart.
Sam stood and backed away, staying by the edge of the foyer. She never went far after I’d had an attack.
“This is over,” I said softly. “I won’t do another deployment. I won’t take another phone call. I won’t bury another man I—” I snapped my mouth shut. God, when were the meds going to kick in?
“Love,” he accused. “You love me.”
I locked my jaw and dropped my gaze.
“Fine. Well, I love you, even if you won’t say it, and I’m not giving you up. It’s only three months, Morgan. Nothing will change in three months.”
“Try three days,” I whispered. “I’m not ready for this. I’m not strong enough for this. I will not do this. Do you know what happens when no one chooses you?”
“Kitty, that’s not what this is,” he whispered.
“You learn to choose yourself. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m choosing me. I’m choosing no anxiety attacks. No deployment. No…” My face crumpled, and I fought the tears that stung my eyes.
“No me.” His mouth tightened as he fought for emotional control.
“If you love me, you’ll go.”
He flinched.
“You won’t ask me to do this. You won’t ask me to stay with you, knowing the cost is this happening to me every. Single. Day. You won’t ask me to undo everything I’ve fought so hard for.” Air flew freely through my throat, and the ache lessened.
“Morgan, no. God, please.” He clenched his hands but didn’t reach for me.
One touch was all it would take to break my resolve, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not unless I wanted to dive right back into daily attacks, and if I had to go through another deployment…that’s exactly where I’d be.
“Jackson, if you love me as much as you say you do, you will walk out that door and you won’t come back. You’ll let me heal. You’ll let me go.”
Despair. Conflict. Anger. Frustration. Defeat. They all visited his face in the span of thirty seconds—some twice. I gripped my knees to keep from grabbing him as he stood. I locked my jaw to keep from begging him to stay.
He walked to the door and then through it but turned around once he was on the deck. “I love you more than any torture you could ever ask of me. So, if I love you enough to walk away, can’t you love me enough to stay?”
The last stitches in my heart ripped free, and my damage bled out all over me. “I never said I loved you.” It was barely a whisper, but he heard it.
“Right. I guess you didn’t.” His expression would haunt my dreams for as long as I lived.
“Sam, close the door,” I begged. The meds were kicking in, and while I could move, I was sluggish as hell, but at least the ache in my throat was fading.
His face tightened, daring me to do it myself, but I couldn’t.
“Morgan…this is… Maybe take some time?” she asked softly.
I leveled her with a stare. “Remember when you showed up at my house with a truckload of furniture and begged me not to tell Grayson where you were?”