Page 69 of Scars of Fate

Close enough that her shoulder occasionally brushed mine.

Each accidental touch hit me harder than enemy fire.

Six years.

I hadn’t seen her in six years.

I’d convinced myself I was over her.

That the divorce had been necessary.

That she was happier without me.

I’d signed the papers because I loved her.

At least, that was what I’d told myself.

But looking at her now, battered and exhausted, I wondered if love had been the reason at all.

Maybe I’d signed them because I was a coward.

I could storm an enemy compound.

Walk into gunfire.

Face an army without hesitating.

But when Wynn told me she couldn’t keep living half a life, I’d let her go.

No argument.

No fight.

Not even one damn question.

She deserved someone who came home every night.

Someone who didn’t vanish for weeks without explanation.

Someone who wasn’t always one mission away from dying.

So I had released her.

I never stopped to ask whether she wanted someone else.

Or whether she only wanted more of me.

“Lucas.”

Wynn’s voice pulled me back.

“What?”

“You’re bleeding worse.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve already used that lie.”