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“Real ballsy of him to store that car in his garage,” Ty says as he vaults over the fence.
“Who was he going to call for a tow? Not the guy he tried to kill.” I roll my eyes.
“Thanks for your help, guys,” I call as we all slide into my truck.
“Anytime.” Evan grins.
Ty holds out a bag, and we all dump our gloves in it. “Piece of cake.”
“If anyone asks, we were all at Logan’s working out in his barn,” Ty says as he slides in the back of the truck.
“It was a good workout.” I shrug.
“It was,” Evan confirms, cracking his neck and smiling.
I don’t want to be the bad guy this town has tried to make me out to be, but I also won’t sit back and let the people I love get hurt. That’s why I dealt with that piece of shit Dr. Douche. I’m not the scared kid who left Freedom Valley years ago. I protect what’s mine, and Callie’s mine. And God help anyone who gets in the way of that.
I didn’t like Callie seeing me after I had a nightmare the other night. I’ve done a good job to power through and not let anyone see me struggle. That’s part of why I moved out here to the land and cabin. I needed to heal in peace. Having her here with me has been good, but I don’t like her seeing me at my worst. It’s hard to let people in.
When Callie told me that Hamilton didn’t even help her with school, I was livid. That was what he threatened me with, and he didn’t even end up helping her. She did it on her own, and I hate myself for this right now. I’m questioning every decision I made. Why was I so afraid of him? Why did I leave? I know I did the best I could back then, and it will all work out. I will make damn sure of it.
And I need to have a conversation with Callie. But the truth is, I’m ashamed, and I deeply regret leaving her now. She has every right to be angry with me. I was worried that if she knew about her dad, it would drive an even deeper wedge between them. But now? I don’t care. They’re done.
Deep down, I know I became the man I am now because of the Army. And she became the doctor she was meant to be. We were two scared kids who figured it out.
* * *
“Tell me something, SJ. What happened in the Army?” she asks softly as we sit on the outdoor swing on the deck covered in blankets in front of the firepit.
“What do you want to know?” I ask as I pull her legs over my lap and tuck the blanket tighter around her. These are the questions I dread her asking, but I know we need to have this talk.
“Well, why the Army?” she asks, the light of the fire dancing on her face.
“They offered me a better deal than the Marines,” I admit. It’s the truth. But the Army ended up being my home for over a decade, and I have no regrets.
“How many times were you deployed?” she asks curiously.
“Half a dozen,” I say, swallowing. I wondered all of those times if I’d be coming back to her and whether we’d ever find our way to this spot together again. Sometimes the dream of being here in this place with her is what got me through.
“Why did you run away?” she asks, her face full of compassion instead of anger now when we talk about it.
“I left so you could focus and not have me in the way. I wish I could go back and write the past differently, but I can’t. I let a bunch of what-ifs get into my head back then.”
Her face softens. “I want to know everything, SJ. The good, the bad, and the ugly. All of it.”
I nod. And I’ll give that to her.
“It was good, and it was bad. I made lifelong friends. I saw some good things and some bad things. The Army made me strong and tough. It healed me from my past with my mom leaving me. I worked out a lot of things while I was gone. But it also broke me in ways that I probably can never be fixed. When I came back, I was bad for a while. I stayed up in the loft of the shop and didn’t come down. I worked nights so I didn’t have to face anyone. Evan helped me get sorted out, and coaching has helped me and given me a purpose. At first, it was a reason to get up every day. People needed me and relied on me. It felt good to be needed.”
Her face softens as she listens to me. “Why didn’t you want to go to college? I still think we could have gotten through anything together. I would have supported you if I’d have known you wanted to join the military.”
“I did go to college and got my degree in education when I was in. I almost completed my master’s, but I got injured and ended up getting out early before I could finish. We still did what we needed to do, Cal,” I say softly, cupping her face. “Everything is working out.”
“What injury?”
“My shoulder. I had surgery on it.” I shrug. “I can’t be on active duty anymore.”
“How are you doing now with the PTSD?” she asks, looking into my eyes without judgment, only compassion and love.
