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After my marriage had ended, it had taken a long time to reach the point where the idea of dating didn’t send me into a panic. When I did, I’d made some ground rules in preparation for the day when I would want to put myself out there, and the very first one on that list had been to not get involved with someone in the military. It wasn’t that I blamed the military for the end of my marriage. No, that fault lays one hundred percent with my ex-husband. However, I’d lived the life of a military wife long enough to know it wasn’t something I was cut out for. I didn’t like living on base and never knowing when or if my husband’s name would be called when the next tour of duty came around. Living with that kind of constant uncertainty wasn’t something I could do long-term.

Thinking back, I wasn’t quite sure when I’d decided to ignore my own rule for Jack, but obviously at some point, I’d decided that he was worth the uncertainty. But, then again, that decision had been made before I found myself glued to the news at two in the morning, pleading and praying into an empty room that he hadn’t been the one shot out of the sky.

“So, what did you want to do today? Do you need to go into the office?” Rachel asked.

At her question, I shifted my attention back to her, and watched as she sipped on her own cup of coffee. I knew myself well enough to know that even if I did go into the office there was no way I was going to be able to concentrate well enough to be able to get anything of significance done. The entire trip would be pointless. “I really don’t know. All I feel like doing is sitting by the computer, refreshing the news, and praying that at some point, I’ll open my email and there will be a new message waiting for me.”

The pit in my stomach sunk a little deeper, making it hard to hold on to a small sliver of hope that somehow Jack would be getting back to the computer soon and would be able to return my messages.

“Well, if I can make a suggestion,” Rachel began, setting her coffee cup back on the counter. “The time isn’t going to pass very quickly if you’re just sitting around staring at a screen all day. So, maybe to take your mind off of everything, we should find something to do.”

“Like what, Rachel? I’m not going to sit around playing board games or go out and have a manicure while the love of my life could be lying in the middle of some shithole desert, bleeding to death. How am I supposed to relax and pretend like everything is okay when all I can see is the image of him suffering and in pain somewhere or worse—” my words were swallowed up in a wave of tears that I’d thought were no longer possible.

Rachel didn’t respond, her face a mix of emotions. I swatted away the tears on my cheeks before they could run any lower. I cleared my throat and shook my head. “I’m sorry, Rach. I know you’re just trying to help.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “It’s okay, Holls. We’ll do whatever it is you want to do. I just don’t think that sitting around waiting is really gonna make you feel better.”

I nodded as I reached for my coffee mug. I gulped it down, ignoring the heat on my tongue, as I desperately tried to force down the lump that had re-formed in my throat. The idea of sitting around waiting all day for something that may or may never come was exhausting, but at the same time, it was more exhausting to think about going out into the world and putting on a brave face pretending that everything was fine—because it wasn’t.

Rachel removed her hand and went back to her own cup of coffee, her eyes drifting past me. After a moment, she returned them to me and asked, “Is there anyone you could call? Maybe someone at his base?”

I sparked at her suggestion, a wide smile spreading across my face for the first time in recent memory. “Rachel, you’re a freakin’ genius!”

Before she even had a chance to ask what it was that she’d said to inspire my light bulb moment, I’d raced from the kitchen, Hunter running behind me, and threw myself onto the couch. I pulled up my email inbox and searched back, trying to find the number to the only person I knew that also knew Jack.

Aaron Rosen. The so-called Player. He’d know what to do.

“Here it is! Here it is,” I shouted, scooping up the laptop. I took it into the kitchen to show Rachel the message on the screen. “This is the guy that Jack was staying with when he was in Holiday Cove. His name is Aaron and they served together. Princess, Jack’s dog, is staying with him while Jack’s gone. If anyone can help, he can.”

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