Page 89 of Trusting a Warrior

She stroked the back of his head like she was comforting a child. “For what?”

“For not being here. For not—”

Once again he couldn’t go on, and Renae pulled away, then reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Well, you’re here now. Come on. Let’s have some coffee and talk.”

Discomfort still roiled through him, but Geo nodded and followed her inside. The living room was much the same, except for the big wooden Trident that Cade’d had commissioned. He’d been so proud of it, and hung it in a place of honor over the couch.

Now it was gone, replaced by a photograph of a stunning beach sunset.

A lot of other SEAL memorabilia that Geo remembered being scattered throughout the house was gone, too.

He bit his lip. Well, why wouldn’t it be? Who’d want those reminders?

“I had my brother come pack it away,” Renae said, answering his unspoken question. “I’ll go through it all someday when my girls are ready.”

Swallowing hard, Geo croaked, “How are the girls?” He accepted the cup of coffee Renae handed him as they took their seats at the table.

She sighed. “Ava is—well, she’s Ava. Wears her heart on her sleeve, gets it all out. Ari? She’s my stoic one, the quiet one. Spends all her time reading or playing soccer.”

Geo nodded, his heart aching for Cade’s nine-and ten-year-old daughters.

“I think the permanence of it’s been a little hard for them to understand, because he’d always been gone a lot.” She shook her head. “Hell, even I think that sometimes: ‘Cade’s not dead, he’s just on deployment.’”

Geo had no idea what to say, and just in time he remembered Lani’s words.

“She doesn’t need you to ‘fix’ anything about what she’s going through. Just be there. Just show up.”

So he reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I miss him, too. And I’m really fucking sorry it’s taken me so long to get here.”

Renae’s eyes met his. “You’re the only one from his platoon who’s come to visit,” she said, with just the faintest trace of bitterness. “It’s like my husband went from hero to zero in the blink of an eye.”

He couldn’t deny that’s what a large part of the community thought, and he didn’t want to insult her intelligence by trying to. Squeezing her hand, he said, “Well, he’ll always be a hero to me.”

Her eyelashes grew spiky. “Thanks, Geo. Even getting to talk about him is nice. People avoid the subject like it’s the plague.”

Once again Lani came to his rescue.

“Just so you know, asking about him, about the person he was, is always the right thing to say.”

He quirked his lips. “Well, before I knocked, I was standing out on the porch remembering all the times I invaded your home, drank your beer.”

With a chuckle, she let go of him and picked up her coffee. “God, he loved you, George. He used to say you were the little brother he never had.”

“Really?” Warmth flooded him, banishing the discomfort, and suddenly Geo was glad he’d come. “Then no wonder he busted my balls so much, Jesus.”

“He was beyond proud of you. I mean that.”

“Well, it’s because of him that I’m even here.” Ignoring the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes, he wrinkled his nose at her. “Did he ever tell you about the time he accidentally drank some other dude’s dip spit?”

She gasped. “No! He didn’t!”

Before long they were laughing, trading stories about a man they’d both loved. Renae raked her hair back with one hand and grinned. “This is great. You’re telling me stuff about the side of him I never got to see. You seriously pulled a knife on that bouncer?”

Geo groaned. “I did, convinced I was a badass impressing my teammates. Afterward, when Cade made me cut my brand-new Trident patch off my uniform...”

“Yikes.” She winced. “It was a lesson you never forgot, huh?”

“Never. He said, ‘This symbol doesn’t make you a hero, your actions do. There are plenty of heroic guys who don’t wear Tridents and plenty of pieces of shit who do. Which one do you want to be?’”