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“That’s right.” She should’ve pushed around him and gone to bed. All she could gain by standing here was more pain. Instead, she asked, “What’s your purpose in life, Ike?”
“Close to the same. Protect, serve, fight for the innocent, others before self, and …”
“And?” she prompted.
“And sometimes you fight for those who you think are punks, but really have a heart.” He tilted his head toward the ceiling.
Myra couldn’t help but smile at that, but she didn’t think that was really how the motto ended. Luckily her tears dried.
“I thought I could do all of that and have love and a family too,” he said.
Her eyes widened, and she had no response for that. He thought previously, or he was thinking that now?
“I let myself fall in love with a sweet lady. Sadie.”
Oh. He was talking about his relationship, his fiancée. Disappointment swirled in her, but that was becoming familiar. It was odd that she didn’t feel jealous of Sadie, only compassion for the fact that wherever Sadie was, she wasn’t with Ike. Myra could relate. She’d never really be with Ike. Only as his work partner.
Ike didn’t say anything more, but he still didn’t back away.
“You got engaged to Sadie,” she confirmed.
He nodded.
“What happened?”
“She was murdered while I was deployed.”
Myra sucked in a breath and felt the emotion rise again. “Oh, Ike. No.” Without stopping to think, she wrapped her arms around his strong back and hugged him fiercely.
For half a beat Ike didn’t move, but then he slid his arms around her lower back and their bodies fused together. They simply held each other. Myra focused on comforting him and helping him overcome his sorrow. Ike had lost his fiancée. Murdered. While he was gone. He probably blamed himself for not being there to protect her. It was horrific.
“Oh, Ike,” she finally managed. “I’m terribly sorry. I pray you can heal and feel God’s peace and love and the angels surrounding you.” She paused, and when he only held her tighter, she hoped it was okay to share. “I told you I lost my mom when I was ten. It changed me. I grew up too fast, became a surrogate mom to my siblings. The loss hardened my dad and me, but it also bonded us and made us even more determined to help others. I wanted to be the best warrior I could, to protect others and to help my siblings out financially as well.”
Ike eased back enough to meet her gaze. “Myra. My mom was killed when I was seven. My dad blamed himself, retired from the Marines, and trained my brother and I to be warriors.” He paused as if he would share more, but then he didn’t.
They studied each other. Both understanding. Both having gone through that intense pain. Connecting on a level both of them wished they never had to understand, yet being welded together by the shared tragedy. Further bonded by both of their dads training them to fight.
He made more sense now. The commitment to duty over personal happiness was sadly relatable. It seemed stronger in him, though. Unbreakable.
“Then you lost Sadie,” she said. “I can’t even wrap my mind around how hard that must have been for you.”
His blue eyes never left her face. “But you understand. After her death, I realized I shouldn’t have let my guard down. I knew then my only purpose was what my dad had dedicated his life to, what he trained my brother and I for from the time we were boys. To protect and serve others. I’ll never have a wife, a family. I couldn’t do that to myself or to them. You understand?”
She did. It had been her plan as well. Yet holding him so close made her want to rethink that plan. Ike’s arms around her made her believe they were meant to be and that somehow they could forge a path. Together.
It was obvious he didn’t feel the same or was stronger emotionally than her. She had to get away now or she’d say something she regretted. Make a fool of herself when she begged him to give love a chance. Why would he after losing his mom and fiancée?
Pulling back, she nodded. “I do understand. Thank you for sharing.”
He nodded, very serious. Very Ike.
“Goodnight,” she managed.
Slipping past him, she wanted to run for the stairs and hide in her bedroom. She forced herself to walk normally, slowly. She angled for the nearest exterior door, checked the lock and glanced at the camera. She hoped he didn’t review the footage and see the tears rolling down her face.
“Myra.” His voice was soft. He hadn’t moved from the chair. “I can do the checks. You get some rest.”
She wanted to argue and tell him she had it, but he would hear the catch in her voice. Waving a hand, she headed for the stairs. She couldn’t even murmur a thanks.
