Page 183 of Reeves

“I think that security job might be the right move,” I add. “With you. With the company. Start of the year, if that works.”

I haven’t said anything about Benjy yet. Not to Ridge. Not to any of them. Things were way too charged after our fight and before I left.

But I will when I get home.

Ridge lets out a short breath that would be a sigh for anyone else, but could be considered a laugh for him.

“Didn’t think I’d ever hear that from you.”

“I didn’t either, if I'm being honest. But it's time.”

After a few more minutes of chatting, I let him know I need to get back to base.

I end the call and lower the phone, letting it hang loose in my hand for a second before sliding it back into my pocket.

The camp keeps moving around me. Orders getting called out. Engines turning over. Men heading where they need to be.

Nothing about it has changed.

My shoulder pulls with the movement. I adjust without thinking, rolling it once before letting my arm hang loose again.

The pain is still there. I fucked up when I tried to fix everything for her instead of with her. Maybe it was never going to work for us.

What we had, what we could have been, sits on my shoulderslike a rock, but it doesn't make me want to run. I'm hoping it will get easier, being around her, being close to her, and knowing I can't have her.

But like she said, what's important now is Benjy.

My son.

FORTY-TWO

Charli

The Wire:In New Orleans, not all of the procession is in person. Some of it travels ahead, carried across distance, arriving before the person does.

My phone lights upon the kitchen counter at eight forty-three on a Wednesday night, long after Benjy is asleep and the dishes are done, and I've run out of ways to keep myself busy.

I look at the name on the screen for two full rings before I pick up. I’m still not used to seeing Reeves’s name on my screen, even though he and Benjy have been FaceTiming religiously at least once a week.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey." His voice has that particular quality it gets on overseas calls, slightly flattened, a half-second delay. It makes the conversation seem like it's happening across something larger than just miles. "Is it too late?"

"No. Benjy's down." I carry the phone to the back porch and pull the door closed behind me. The night air is warm and still. "Where are you?"

"Still over here. But not for much longer." A pause. "That'sactually why I'm calling. I wanted to give you some notice instead of just showing up."

I sit down in the wicker chair and pull my knees up. “Okay.”

“I’ve decided to take the medical leave the Navy is offering me. I've got some things to close out in Virginia after, so I probably have another month or two..” Another pause. “I’m moving back to New Orleans."

“Oh, wow,” I say.

The reaction comes out neutrally, which is where I want it. I knew the shoulder issue was on the table, but I honestly never thought he would leave the military.

I’ll have to get used to the idea of him being back so close permanently, but I'm not panicking. Yet. He's Benjy's father. That geography makes sense regardless of anything else.

"I want to see him regularly,” Reeves says. "As much as you'll let me. I know I've got a lot of ground to make up, and I'm not expecting you to hand that over all at once."