“She’s a fuckin’ knockout, isn’t she?” He stretches his head down the turret hatch and looks at me inquisitively. He has a ridiculous smirk on his face. “Isn’t she?”

“Shit, she was a knockout when we were kids. Now it’s just unfair for every other woman on the planet.”

“Sounds like a good thing to me.”

“Well, I’m not with her, now am I?”

“Is she seeing somebody?” he asks, and I have to fight my desire to elbow his face to shut him up.

“You know I hate talking about this shit, right?”

My words go unnoticed as novice keeps talking. “In the year that I’ve known you, you’ve talked about this girl relentlessly. For a while there, I knew more about her than I did about you. You may think you’re Mr. Independent, trying to act all tough and shit, but you’re just like me, a tough candy shell with a gooey caramel center.” Annoyed, I tilt my head back to look at him again. Catching his playful smile, I refrain from throwing my elbow into his face. “We’re lovers … it’s just how God made us.”

“Yeah, well, I’m also a killer, so keep it up, dick!”

“Okay, okay, come on, I’m just playing. Don’t be ashamed of who you are, man. Ladies don’t want some emotionless hard-ass. They want a man who can love them better than anyone else,” he says, likely hoping it’s enough to get me talking. It works.

“She was the one that got away, man. And I don’t think anything or anyone will ever change that. She’s it for me ...” My voice trails off for a moment, and Navas takes it as his cue to chime in.

“So, she’s seeing someone, huh?”

“Yeah, man, she is. And of all people, she’s engaged to my childhood nemesis. The guy wanted her so bad when we were growing up, but she only had eyes for me. I should’ve known he’d swoop in the moment I left.”

“Why did you two end anyway? You never did tell me that part of it.”

“Conversation over, motherfucker.”

I’m not about to tell him about my biggest mistake, because then I’d have to tell him that, for the first time in my military career, I want to tear this uniform off, burn up my enlistment papers, and hop on a plane back home. For the first time in my life, my world seems so much bigger, my options limitless, my chances of happiness now visible.

And I know what he’d say. He’d tell me to go and get my girl. But I also know after seeing her picture with Wyatt that it would be nearly impossible.

Slouching down in my seat, I close my eyes. I still want to read that email that I hope to hell is waiting for me because maybe then the fact that she’s getting married will be hammered into my head. Maybe then I’ll be able to accept it and take this for what it is … a fucking friendship. And as much as it’ll kill me, I’d rather be friends than nothing at all.

“Fall” – Ed Sheeran

“I THINK I’M READY.” MY eyes widen at my own admission and Dr. Perry raises an eyebrow, clearly unsure as to what I’m talking about. “Drexler,” I clarify, “I think I’m ready to deal with Andrew Drexler.”

“What do you mean by deal with him?”

Dropping my head back, I look up at the ceiling fan, watching the blades go around and around. Who the hell has a ceiling fan in their office? “Katie?”

“I’m thinkin’,” I mumble. What exactly do I want? I’m not really sure. I just know that I’ve come so far and I’m starting to feel happy again. I’ve found the place I thought I’d lost forever, but one thing is still there in the back of my mind. “I need to read his letter, or maybe meet with him. I don’t really know.” Sitting up, I lock eyes with Dr. Perry. “I just know that I want to move past it once and for all, and he’s the one thing left standing in my way.”

“Standing in your way of what?”

“Life. Happiness. Forgiveness. You name it.”

“Who do you want to forgive?” Her probing eyes see way too much, and even though I want nothing more than to look away, I don’t. “Him, or yourself?”

I shrug. “Both, maybe. It’s hard to explain. It’s just …” My words trail off as I think of the best way to put it. “I want to move on. I’ve moved past so much of my anger and resentment, but I want to move past all of it. I want to…” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face when my throat grows tight. “I want to be able to think of my dad without thinking about Drexler. I want peace.”

The smile on Dr. Perry’s face widens and something inside of me relaxes. “I’m proud of you, Katie, and I think it’s a great idea.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely. I think you’re ready. But maybe just start by reading his letter, and then if you still feel unsettled, you can contemplate speaking with him.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” I smile and rub my hands along the front of my thighs, then push up from the couch.

“Goodnight, Katie. I’ll see you next week.”

With a small wave, I turn toward the door when Dr. Perry calls out to me. “Oh, by the way, how are things going with your pen pal?”

“They’re going great.” Better than great, I think to myself as I leave Dr. Perry’s office, much lighter than ever before. And I know there is really only one person to thank for that—the same person who has somehow managed to hijack my head, considering I find myself thinking about him nearly twenty-four-seven.

“Goodnight, Kelly!” I wave at Dr. Perry’s secretary on my way out, tugging my phone from my pocket the second I slide into my car. Three missed calls pop up on my phone, and I roll my eyes at the sight of Wyatt’s name. He’s really backed off lately; in fact, I haven’t heard from him in several days. So why is he calling me again all of a sudden?

Just then, my phone vibrates in my hand, lighting up with Wyatt’s phone number. Curious as to why he’s rapid-fire calling me, I flip open my phone.

“Hello.”

“Katie, hey … I, uh … I didn’t expect you to answer.”

“I was with Dr. Perry. I’m just heading home. What’s up?” Transferring my phone to speaker, I start my car and pull out of the parking lot. I hear the faint sound of a woman giggling in the background. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh …” Wyatt grunts and then more giggling ensues. I cringe, wondering what in the hell is going on, and I’m seconds away from asking him just that when he says the last thing I expect to hear. “No, everything isn’t okay. I was calling because I have Bailey, and she’s”—Wyatt grunts—“shit, are you okay?” There’s another grunt followed by some rustling sounds, and now I’m wondering if Bailey really is okay and why in the hell Wyatt is with her.

“Wyatt? What do you mean you have Bailey?”

“She’s wasted,” he says, sighing. “She refuses to let me take her to your mom’s, and no way in hell am I bringing her to my place.”

“Bring her to me.” I can’t help but laugh. Bailey is a funny drunk, although I can’t help but wonder why she’s drunk at six o’clock in the evening. “I’ll be home in two minutes.”

“Thank God,” he says with an exaggerated groan. “We’re sitting in your driveway.”

“Almost there.” I disconnect the call as I turn onto my street. Sure enough, Wyatt’s truck is parked in the driveway and he’s standing outside, leaning against his sleek black Chevy. Pulling in, I throw my car in park and start laughing hysterically at the sight of Bailey’s face squished against the glass of the passenger-side window.

Wyatt walks around the truck and opens the passenger door, sticking a hand out just in time to stop Bailey from toppling to the ground. Scooping her up, he tosses her over his shoulder and I shake my head, laughing.

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is.” Unlocking my front door, I hold it open for Wyatt and he walks in and places Bailey on the couch. I reach down to tug Bailey’s heels off, causing her to stir and roll onto her side. Her eyelids bob heavily several times and she swallows hard.