Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
I glanced over at him, my hand reaching for the doorknob.
“You gotta let go, Nate,” he said, offering me a smile. “You’ve carried shit that isn’t yours for too long. That guilt? Not yours. The career you’re not actually that fond of? Not yours. But Izzy? She’s the one who’s yours. So if you won’t walk through that door for yourself, consider doing it for her.”
Izzy.
It had been six weeks since I’d left her at the Kabul airport so I could give her the one thing I knew she needed—Serena. I missed her with every breath, and yet I knew it wasn’t time yet.
If we had one shot, then I couldn’t blow it.
I took one last look at Torres and then I opened the door and walked through.
Dr. Williamson looked up from his desk with a professional smile and motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “How’s it going, Phelan?”
Usually I would have told him I was fine. That I was sleeping, eating, and relaxing just like I was supposed to.
But lying hadn’t gotten me anywhere, so maybe it was time that I told the truth.
I sank into the chair and looked the doctor in the eye. “I’ve been talking to my best friend as a coping mechanism for the stress, the deployments, the . . . everything.”
He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “That sounds pretty normal.”
“Yeah, except he’s been dead for four years. Think you can help me?” I gripped my knees and waited for his answer.
“Yes,” he said. “I think I can help you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
IZZY
Washington, DC
October 2021
I settled into my seat and stored my bag, then clicked my seat belt as my fellow passengers boarded around me.
For the first time since Palau, I’d packed a full suitcase. Swimsuits, cover-ups, sundresses, all of it. I hadn’t heard from Nate since leaving Kabul, and sure, my pulse skyrocketed when I thought of the minute possibility of him actually meeting me at the layover stop. But even if he didn’t—which was more than likely—I was going to check into our bungalow in the Maldives, sleep until noon, lie out in the sun, and dream about him.
Because that’s what he would have wanted me to do.
I was pretty damn sure he was still deployed, given the state of the world, and as he’d told me, there would always be somewhere they were needed.
Somewhere in the last six weeks, between watching my phone for a call that didn’t come and staring at my door when my darkest thoughts got the best of me, I’d come to a conclusion. If I wanted to be with Nate, really honestly be with him, then I needed two things: strength and patience.
Strength to know that he loved me, and he’d come to me when he could, and patience to wait for those days.
Oh, and a little more freedom from the job I actually abhorred when push came to shove.
I took out the novel I’d picked up in the airport bookstore and cracked open a fresh highlighter as the couple across the aisle took their seats. By the time Nate got home, I’d have a full library of marked-up books for him to devour.
Whenever Nate got home.
The sun shone through the clouds for a moment, streaming in the window beside me and making the diamond on my right hand sparkle. A ring like that wasn’t meant to be covered by electrical tape and hidden away. It was made to shine, which it would do from my right hand until Nate either took it back or slid it to my left.
I crossed my legs and leaned back, reading the first page.
“Excuse me, but may I walk past?” His deep voice slid over me like the softest silk, and my heart jolted as I slowly lowered the book and looked up.
It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.
But it was.
“I have the window seat.” He smiled, flashing that dimple at me, and my jaw dropped as he slid right past me to sink into the seat on my right.
“You . . .” My breaths came erratically as I looked into my favorite pair of blue eyes. “You’re not supposed to meet me until Boston.”
“I switched flights.” His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Figured if we were going to spend a week in the Maldives, we should get as much travel time together as possible.”
I nodded, because of course that made sense . . . in a world where Nate wasn’t constantly deployed. A world where he actually showed up on the flights he scheduled.
“There are a few things I need to tell you.” The smile fell away from his face.
“Well, it appears that we have time.” I closed the book and turned toward him. “There are a few things I should tell you too.”
“Oh?” He reached over and took my hand. The simple contact was absolute heaven.