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"So what? You're just not going to call him? You're not going to explain to your own brother what happened?" Tag said. He sounded pissed.

"There's no point in him knowing. I feel fine and there's no lasting damage. The doctor says my knee will be back to normal in a day or two and I can get the stitches out in a couple weeks." Zach sounded different. Not angry and gruff like he often did when he was irritated. He sounded… off.

"The kid’s been asking about you," Tag said after several moments.

"He's not a kid," Zach returned. Since I was pretty sure they were talking about me, I almost found myself smiling at Zach's defense of my age. Until he said, "Did you tell him what I told you to?"

There was no verbal response, but when Zach said, "Good," I assumed Tag had answered in some visual way.

"You ever going to tell me what is going on between you and the ki—Lucky?" Tag asked. This time it was Zach’s turn not to respond out loud. It was so frustrating that I just wanted to march into the room and demand the man talk to me.

"Doc still cleared you to come home tomorrow?" was Tag’s next question.

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't care what he says, I don’t want to see you back at that hangar for at least a week."

There was a long beat of silence that had my insides twisting into a painful knot. The Zach I knew would have argued with Tag about taking that much time off. The fact that he was remaining quiet couldn't be good.

Tag must've sensed the same thing because he said, "No. Come on, man, don't do this."

"I told you this thing was only going to be temporary," Zach said. "Johnny can finish the last little bit of training and oversee the final exercises."

"I don't give a shit about you leaving the program!" Tag snapped.

I leaned back against the wall, not listening to Tag going off on Zach. I didn't really care what his arguments were because I knew they wouldn’t make a difference. The thing I'd heard in Zach's voice was determination and right now, he was determined to leave. And I knew in my heart that was exactly what he’d do. I didn't know why or when or how, but I’d lost Zach all over again.

Pain lanced through my chest. I found myself putting a hand over my heart as if that would somehow prevent it from shattering into a million little pieces. I’d really thought this time would be different… that he’d come home with me and we’d somehow figure out how to make things work. That stupid vision I'd had in my head as I’d lain across his body waiting for the smoke and flames to take us had been a feasible thing in my mind. And afterwards as we'd been lying in each other's arms in the warming hut, I’d thought we'd gotten past all the things keeping us apart.

But nothing had changed. Not for Zach, anyway.

I stumbled away from the room, ignoring a nurse as she asked me if I was okay. Everything seemed to go dark and there was only a roaring in my ears that matched the sound of the fire that had tried to take my life less than a day earlier. It wasn't until I felt hands on my upper arms and someone calling my name that I snapped out of my daze.

"Zach?" I asked, hoping against hope he’d somehow discovered me and chased after me. That he was going to explain that it was all a big misunderstanding and that he wasn't going anywhere and we would be together forever.

But it was Min who responded. She asked me repeatedly if I was okay, and I must've told her I was because shortly after that, she was leading me to her car and taking me back to the motel room Leah had arranged for us. Both women took perverse pleasure in mothering me, so when we got to the room, she put me into one of the beds and lay with me for a long time, murmuring promises that everything would be okay.

I didn't tell her that I knew it wouldn't be because Zach was leaving again. Just like he'd left two years earlier. I'd recovered from that, but barely. I had no idea how I'd be able to deal with losing him a second time.

Thankfully, sleep kept me in its tight grip for a good twenty-four hours. But when Min gently shook me awake and insisted I eat something, all I felt was this raw, inescapable pain. Even being around my best friend hurt too much. When I told her I was ready to go back to the bunkhouse, not surprisingly, she vehemently objected. But in the end, she gave up the fight and finally agreed.

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