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“I’ll go talk to him,” Rosalie said. “You stay here with your bunny. Oh, and there’s a surprise for you in your room.” She grinned at her daughter, glad she hadn’t delayed in setting up the Valentine’s Day hearts.
Autumn’s face shone like the sun, and she skipped down the hall with the ten-pound rabbit holding on for dear life.
Rosalie faced the open front door, trying to calculate how much time had passed since Autumn had come through it. Only a minute or two. James couldn’t expect her to come running straight out.
Her chest vibrated in a strange way as she stepped over the gate and crossed the porch. She told herself to be strong. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t react. She could cry later, in private, long after Autumn went to sleep.
Her daughter loved her daddy with every cell in her body, and Rosalie would not do anything to combat that.
James sat behind the wheel in his enormous truck. It had been fitted with hand levers for the brake and gas pedal, so he could drive as usual.
His window was down, and he turned toward her as she reached the sidewalk and advanced in his direction. “Hey,” he drawled out, his voice the one in her head that drove her to keep the house clean and her hair done up right.
“Hey,” she said, keeping her voice light. “You’re back early.” She made it sound like he was supposed to drop Autumn off tonight instead of in the middle of the day, when really, he was two and a half days early.
“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Rosalie paused, because James rarely apologized for anything. He’d only said he was sorry a handful of times in their marriage, and one was when he said he couldn’t stay in their marriage.
Despite everything, Rosalie still loved him, and she supposed she always would. He was the father of her child, after all, and she had to see him all the time.
“Listen, a really great opportunity came up at the naval base in California,” he said. “I applied for the job. It was a long shot, but they called this morning, and they want me there as soon as I can get there.”
Rosalie heard the words, but she took a few seconds to absorb them. “When will you be back?”
James sighed and that was when Rosalie knew what he’d really said.
“You’re not coming back.”
“It’s an intelligence position,” he said, staring out the windshield instead of facing her. “It’s an amazing opportunity for someone like me.”
Someone with no college education. Someone who couldn’t walk. Someone who’d served his country for eight years, gotten injured, and then couldn’t do the job he’d trained for on his ship.
Tears pressed behind Rosalie’s eyes. “You’re moving there today?”
“I’m going today,” he clarified. “I’m not packed up to move yet.”
“How long have you known about the job?”
“Four months,” he said. “I’ve been doing phone and online interviews with them for two.” He did look at her then. “This is how the Navy is, Rosa.”
“I know,” she snapped, folding her arms across her midsection. She took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Did you tell Autumn?”
“I told her I had to go for a while,” he said. “I’ll have to come back and get properly packed and everything.” He looked at Rosalie with pure pleading in his eyes. She hated that with everything inside her, and she fought against the softness trying to surface.
“Okay,” she said. “Please let me know when you come back, even if it’s for an hour. Autumn will want to say goodbye.” A real goodbye too, not whatever had happened this morning that Rosalie didn’t know about.
“I will,” James promised, but he’d promised her things in the past that hadn’t come to fruition. He held her gaze, and so much more was said between them.
She wanted to tell him to take them with him. The three of them could relocate and start over. Maybe then they’d make it. Maybe then, the strong, confident man she’d married would re-emerge, and he wouldn’t feel like he was shackling her with a lifetime of caring for him.
At the same time, Rosalie knew that man had died somewhere at sea, in an explosion on-board his ship that had killed three others and left him wounded.
She looked away, because no one could reclaim the past. “Drive safely,” she said. “Let me know when you get there. Send some pictures for Autumn.”
“Rosa,” he said, and she wished he wouldn’t use her nickname. They weren’t married anymore.
She nodded and backed up a step. She had to be strong. She could take care of Autumn all the time—she’d have to now. She couldn’t send her four-year-old to California by herself, that was for sure.
She turned and walked away from James sitting in that truck, a brand-new level of hardness descending on her. She’d been a single mom before, but Autumn’s dad was right here in town. Only five minutes away should she need help.
She was really on her own now, and as she stepped over the gate and into the house, her first tear fell.
