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She shook her head, getting the hint. He didn’t want to talk about it. And she didn’t want to push. Her fake boyfriend’s dating history was none of her concern, especially when she had a mouth full of the best pizza she’d had in years. “No. He’s fine with dog food.”
Her dog dropped his yellow duck toy and let out a bark as if he understood the words “dog” and “food” pertained to him. But she ignored him.
“I would hate to waste this on an animal that mistakes a chair leg for dinner,” she said. “The crust is perfect. Not too thin. Not too thick. I haven’t had a pizza like this since I lived in New York.”
“In the city?” He selected a slice of the pepperoni.
“No. Upstate. I went to West Point.”
“You always knew you wanted to be in the army?”
“My father always knew he wanted me to follow in his footsteps and be in the army,” she corrected.
“Your dad served?”
She nodded, sliding a second slice onto her plate. “And my brother. He fought in Iraq.”
“That must have been hard for your parents,” Chad said, leaning back. “To watch both their kids go to war.”
No, it was what they’d wanted for their children, Lena thought, biting into the oh-so-perfect crust. Maybe not the war in the Middle East. But wearing the uniform? That had been their dream from day one.
“My brother was home by the time I graduated and deployed,” she said. There was so much more to the story, but she wasn’t ready to share the details yet.
“Your family must be proud of you.” She could feel Chad watching her carefully. “For receiving a Silver Star.”
“I’m sure they are. My dad grew up very poor. His parents moved to Texas from Mexico when he was about ten. They became citizens, my dad went to school, and my grandfather’s business thrived. They love this country. As soon as my dad was old enough, he enlisted, determined to serve. He dreamed about sending his kids to military schools, but my brother followed in his footsteps, enlisting when he turned eighteen. The day I graduated from West Point, my father cried. He was so proud of me.”
Chad set his half-eaten slice on his plate. “Lena, you can tell me to mind my own business if you want, but why aren’t they helping you now?”
“They don’t understand,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Physically. But I refuse to go back and serve another tour. I’m done. I don’t think they could accept that. They didn’t understand.
“Maybe if there was one event that I could point to and say this why I can’t move forward with my life. But it’s not isolated to the images in my nightmares. Waking up every day not knowing if someone will attack your unit. Wondering about IEDs every time you get into a truck or go out on patrol . . . it builds and builds until your normal is fear.”
She selected another slice of piece. “My normal is fear right now. It wasn’t like that for my brother or father. Their injuries healed, to the extent they ever will, following the timeline set out by their doctors. My family expected the same would be true for me.”
“So they gave up on you,” he said. “Like your ex?”
“You’re awfully nosy for a fake boyfriend.”
“Just hard to imagine walking away from you, Lena. You’re beautiful and fascinating. And you must have done some pretty amazing stuff over there to receive a medal from the vice president.” Chad offered her another slice of pepperoni pizza, but she shook her head. “Plus your ex drove all the way down here to give you that envelope.”
“Malcolm isn’t a bad guy,” she said quietly.
“Look, Lena,” Chad said slowly, humor fading from his brown eyes. “If there’s a chance you can fix things with him, I don’t want to be in the way.”
“No,” she said flatly. “There’s no chance. Even if there were, I don’t want to go back. Malcolm had an imaginary line of how much he could take before he gave up. We blew past his idea of when my recovery should’ve ended months ago.”
“Chad!” A shrill female voice burst the bubble around her, Chad, and their too-serious conversation.
Lena turned her head, spotting a slim, tall woman with black hair styled into a spiked pixie cut. Ms. Pixie approached the picnic bench and stopped beside Chad.
“We missed you at the bar last night,” the woman said. “It didn’t feel like a Friday night without you.”
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “I had something.”
“Forgiven.” Ms. Pixie rested her hand on Chad’s arm.
“Delilah, this is Lena,” Chad said, carefully withdrawing his arm from the other woman’s hold. He reached for his water, nodding in her direction. “She just moved to Independence Falls. Lena, meet Delilah Travis.”
