Page 99 of Maximus

“What was it like being a SEAL?” Eva asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I shifted in the uncomfortable chair and toyed with the bottle of water that sat in front of me. We were sitting in the dining room, Eva on one side of the table facing the room so she could watch the boys as they played in the living room, and I sat on the other which gave me a view of the nice-sized backyard.

We’d talked about a variety of things since Zane had left; favorite movies, books, places we lived. Light topics that were easy to discuss. She hadn’t touched on my military service—until now—and I hadn’t asked about anything that would make her uncomfortable. Besides, I didn’t care much about the past, I was more concerned about the present.

“It was hard,” I answered.

“Physically?”

“Physically painful and mentally challenging.”

“You don’t like to talk about it,” she guessed.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like to talk about it, I just never had.

“Never had the occasion to discuss what it was like being a SEAL,” I started. “I’m not trying to dodge your question. I’ve just haven’t thought about how to explain it.”

“It’s okay, forget I asked.”

“No, Eva, I want to tell you.”

It took a few minutes for me to explain what Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL school was and the selection process to get there, but thanks to the many documentaries and movies made, Eva knew the basics of BUD/s.

“So what you’re telling me is, the movies have it wrong?” Eva asked when I was done.

“A two hour movie cannot begin to encompass the physical, emotional, and spiritual toll of training. Personally, I think some films portray war better than others but unless you’ve smelled the devastation, you can’t imagine what it’s like.”

“Smell it?” Eva’s nose crinkled.

“It’s not something I can begin to describe. It’s a scent that clogs your nostrils—a smell you can never forget. And when you’re in the thick of a firefight, I swear, you taste it. But it’s not something you can define—it’s simply death and destruction, fear and desperation. And it’s not something that goes away, it lingers forever.”

A knock at the door brought me palpable relief. Now that I’d done it, I found that I was wrong—I didn’t like talking about the devastating aftermath of war.

“That’s Kyle and Anaya,” I reminded Eva when she startled in her seat.

“Oh, right.” Her cheeks tinged pink and I wished the boys weren’t in the next room so I could touch her.

So close, yet so far away.

I got up and made my way to the front door and checked the peephole. If the boys weren’t watching me, I would’ve had my weapon unholstered and at the ready even though I could clearly see Kyle’s smirking face as he held his middle finger up for good measure.

Idiot.

I shook my head at his antics and opened the door.

“What are you, ten?”

“I see you’ve lost your sense of humor.”

I hadn’t, but ever since Kyle had fallen in love with Anaya, he seemed different, livelier—always cracking a joke and fooling around.

Was that how love made you behave?

“Hi, Eva,” Anaya said, causing me to look over my shoulder.

Sure enough, there Eva stood in front of the coffee table, blocking the path to the living room where the boys looked up from putting together a puzzle.

The gesture wasn’t needed, but it was one more way Eva protected her kids.