“I think I might actually like you.”
Hudson stilled in the doorway and felt six years of everything move through him at once—Selection, Washington, Reed’s wedding. The storage rooms, the text that went unanswered. A helicopter going down, a roadside bomb, seventy hours in a chair that was extremely uncomfortable. Almost losing the man he loved.
He laughed. Properly, fully, feeling the tension of these six years, of the last week, leave his body. “You’re an absolute asshole.”
The corner of Elliot’s mouth pulled up into the half smile Hudson had thought he would never see again. “Yeah,” he said. “But you love me anyway.”
Hudson shook his head, still laughing, and stepped out into the corridor.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ELLIOT
Two daysafter Elliot returned to Fort Liberty, he had found Reed on his doorstep.
“You look like shit,” Reed said, balancing Mae on his hip. They stood there looking at each other until Mae wiggled her way out of Reed’s arms and stormed Elliot’s home.
“Thank you.”
“I’m serious. You look like you hit a roadside bomb.”
Elliot snorted. “I see your humor didn’t go MIA too.”
Reed pulled him into an embrace and Elliot patted him awkwardly on the back. “I missed you too, man.”
He shoved a six-pack in Elliot’s hand and walked past him into the house—and that had been that. Twice a week ever since, Elliot either ate dinner at the Reeds or had Reed appearing on his doorstep with leftovers and beer. Last week Reed had even texted him at 0600.
Reed: You good?
Elliot: Yes.
Reed: Sarah made breakfast burritos. Coming over
Elliot: It’s 0600. Don’t.
Reed: Too late already on my way
He'd eaten two burritos and let Reed ramble on about Sarah wanting another baby, sooner rather than later. And he hadn’t minded at all.
When he woke up in a hospital room four months ago he hadn’t been entirely sure what had happened. That part had resolved itself quickly though: the year, the country, the road, the blast, hisboyfriendslumped in the chair next to him.
The rest had taken longer. The headaches that arrived without warning and stayed for hours. The sensitivity to light that made hospital corridors feel like an assault. Noise was the worst—the way loud sounds landed all wrong, slightly off-register, forcing his skull to recalibrate.
He’d been told he got off easy. Three doctors had said so, all meaning it as reassurance. Elliot had agreed, but flinching at car doors slamming four months later made everything feel relative.
Being home helped. His own space, his own routines. Reed and Sarah two miles down the road. But now he was getting restless. There was something missing and he knew perfectly well what it was.
Elliot had knownJFK would be loud.
He’d taken the quieter entrance. Arrived early enough to find a position near the arrivals board that wasn’t in the main flow of foot traffic. He’d even made sure to take two ibuprofen on the train.
Still, none of it fully prepared him for the moment he walked into the arrivals hall. The sound of it all hit him: the announcements, the luggage wheeling past him, hundreds of people in one space. He pressed his fingersagainst his temple and breathed.In for four, hold for four, out for four.
Hudson had been dark for most of the deployment, which had been the most excruciating part of it all. Major Okafor had allowed a handful of calls over the last four months. Sometimes they were really brief and other times Hudson spent twelve minutes telling Elliot about a bird named Gerald that had taken residence outside the ops room window.
Elliot pulled out his phone and read their first text exchange in months.
Hudson: u better be wearing a T-shirt so I can see the tattoos
