Then why does it hurt like a bitch?

Was I ever going to be able to watch him fly again without remembering the notification? Will’s funeral? The scars on his body?

“What about you, Mrs. Walker?” Rizzo asked, checking out my ring.

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Oh, well, that’s not until next year. I’m still Miss Howard.”

“Well, then how are you, Miss Howard?”

“I am still a work in progress, but I’ll let you know.”

He gave me a knowing nod. “I like a truthful woman.”

Josh pulled me under his arm. “Well, this one is mine, so find your own.”

He laughed. “Hey, you know my policy on that one.”

“Gentlemen, I’m so glad I found you,” a deep voice came from behind us. We turned to see Major Trivette walking toward us, his cute five-year-old daughter on his hip. She had her father’s blond hair and solemn eyes. Way too solemn for a five-year-old. “Can I steal a few minutes?”

“I can take her,” I offered.

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“No, you should stay. Abigail, why don’t you run and play with your friends?” he said, lowering her gently to the ground with a kiss. She gave him a small nod and raced off, her sundress bouncing as she ran for the swing set.

Major Trivette turned back to us. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to check on you guys. I meant to so many times, but just…” He sighed. “Alice would never forgive me for that oversight.”

“Sir, you’ve been otherwise occupied, and we would never expect that of you,” Josh interjected.

“Well, nonetheless. How are you?”

“We’re both cleared for duty, sir,” Rizzo answered.

Hearing Rizzo say it felt like someone cocked a loaded shotgun and pointed it at my heart.

“Good, that’s good.” He looked to Josh. “She liked you. She said that you showed a great deal of promise. Courageous. I believe that was the word she used.”

Josh paled. “Rash, impetuous, foolish. I think those words might better suit.”

Major Trivette’s eyes narrowed. “You still blame yourself.”

“Well, sir, that falls squarely on my shoulders. You’ve read the report.” Josh tensed, and I wanted to reach out and hold him, to assure him again that it wasn’t his fault. I just wished I knew how many times I’d have to say it before he believed me.

“Yes. She gave the order to fly into that valley.”

“Because it was my best friend.”

“No,” Major Trivette snapped. “Don’t you dare take that from her. She would have made the call for any soldier. She was the pilot in command, not you, Walker. She knew what was at stake, and she chose to take her crew into battle. She chose to medevac those pilots. I miss her every time I take a breath, but I’m also incredibly proud of her. You can’t take that away by acting like she was guilted into going in. You and I both know Alice didn’t do a damn thing she didn’t want to.”

Josh picked at the label on his beer. “I am so sorry we lost her,” he said once he looked up.

Major Trivette reached across us and clasped Josh on the shoulder. “I am, too. God knows it. But she’d be proud of how she died. She’d be prouder that you two carried on and saved that other pilot. And I can tell you that she lived for the mission. She’d be the first in the saddle and back on the front line. Don’t ever think anything less. She died the way she lived, and it was her honor, not your fault. There’s a difference.”

Josh nodded, his jaw working. He was tightly strung, clinging to the strands of his control with slipping fingers. I added my hand to his, offering a quiet support that he took with a gentle squeeze. “She was a hell of a woman, sir.”

He looked over to where his children played. “She was.”

We left the barbecue early, both more than a little raw from the day’s events. As Josh sat in our living room that night, turning Will’s ring over in his hand, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d just paved the way for closure, or ripped the scabs off anew.

One thing I’d learned about grief—it was almost impossible to tell the difference between the two.

They both hurt like hell.

Chapter Thirty

JOSH

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Captain Brown asked me from behind his desk.

The gravity of my decision made it hard to breathe, to force out the words that I knew needed to be spoken. It wasn’t a question of what I wanted. It was a matter of what was right. Of what Will would do. What Captain Trivette would do. A matter of being the kind of man Ember deserved, even if she’d hate me for this. “Are you certain there’s not another date?”

He grimaced. “I am. This is the last one.”

Damn it. “Then, yes, I am.”

“And you’ve thought this through?”

“Every day since I realized it was a possibility, sir.”

He fumbled through my file. “You’ve been cleared medically, flights have been good, psych released you.”

As long as I keep Dr. Henderson’s deal. “Yes.”

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the glass topper of his desk. “I’m not going to pretend to know what it was you went through over there, or what kind of mark that leaves on you. But I’d be a shit commander if I didn’t ask you one more time. So, are you absolutely certain this is what you want?”




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