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When we sat down, Brock made sure he sat next to Brant, who was seated toward the middle of the couch. Not sure what he thought Brant and I would do. Hold hands? Honestly, I wouldn’t mind holding Brant’s hand. Not in a romantic way, but because he would at least try and offer me the comfort I so desperately needed. And I could perhaps offer him some of the same. However, Brant and I both knew we were off-limits to each other, even as friends.
As soon as we were settled on the blue velvet couch under the glare of the filming lights, Brock did his duty and took my hand in his. This time, though, he gave it a squeeze and rested them together on his leg. In return I gave him a small smile. He didn’t smile back, but he gave me a nod. I used to be able to read him so well, yet I wasn’t sure what the nod meant. I took some consolation that at least his eyes weren’t as cold as they had been.
Allison sat in front of us on a high-back stool. She gave us all a toothy grin. “Are you ready?”
No, Allison. No, I’m not.Chapter Four“Tell me, Dani, what were those days like after you received the initial report that your husband had been killed?”
I’d answered that question what seemed like a hundred times. You would think I could just spout it off with ease. Instead, every time it took my breath away. From the moment Sheridan had called me to deliver the awful news—the racking sobs, the comfort Brant and I had sought in each other’s arms, the devastating pain that followed—to the spark of hope given to us from John’s connections in Washington that perhaps a mistake had been made in identifying Brock’s body. To this day, I felt the sting of every low and the joy of every high.
I also had to be careful about answering that question so as to not reveal the inside information we had received during that time from the top levels of government. Namely John’s connection in Washington—the Secretary of Defense. John was at least good for something. Not to mention I could always feel Brock tense when that question came up. I could practically hear him accusing me of callously not giving him a second thought while every moment he had been held captive and tortured it was me who had consumed his thoughts. It was me who had given him the will to survive. Those words cut my soul in ways that would never heal. I wasn’t sure he would ever believe my answer.
I placed my hand on top of our already-clasped hands and took a deep breath in and out, trying to compose myself. “I’m not sure words can properly convey the agony of those days. There was no sleeping, no eating. I was on my knees praying more than standing. My world suddenly didn’t exist anymore.”
Allison leaned in closer, intently listening to my response. Her cameraman made sure to capture her look of sympathy. Once I’d answered, she shifted more toward Brock. “You’ve been quoted as saying that it was Dani who gave you the courage to live during those grueling days of captivity. Did any final words come to you that you wished you would have said before departing for the last time?”
Oh. That was a new one.
A few red blotches appeared on Brock’s neck, indicating he wasn’t prepared for that question. I could see his Adam’s apple bob repeatedly while he thought.
John stepped forward in the background; I was sure the motion was meant to remind Brock to give a million-dollar response. Now I would never know if Brock was speaking his truth or his father’s. What else was new? I’d felt like that for weeks. I had questioned whether or not Brock had ever truly cared for me. Or was it his near-death experience that had temporarily made him feel more for me than he really did? Even before he left, he couldn’t or wouldn’t just come out and say how he felt about me. He had only said he wanted to talk about “us” when he returned. Who knew what he would have said had it been a run-of-the-mill training mission.
Brock looked straight ahead, past Allison and out toward the large window that provided a view of a nearby meadow graced by the surrounding mountain peaks, golden from the aspens changing leaves. He cleared his throat. “I think when you’re in the situation I found myself in, you can’t help but think about the last moments you had with those you care the most about. I was fortunate enough that when I returned, I was able to express those sentiments.”
I felt the sting of what he did and didn’t say. I wanted to yank my hand out of his, but all I could do was sit still and keep the fake smile on my face.
