Willow leaned forward, warming her hands on the fire. The orange and yellow flames colored the dark night sky.
They sat in Jason’s backyard. Not that Jason was here. The second he’d started the fire, Courtney had banished him inside the house.
Reaching down, Willow lifted her cocktail and took a sip, almost cringing at the sweetness. She shouldn’t drink too much more. Hell, she probably shouldn’t drink any. Sugary drinks had always upset her stomach.
“My God, woman, you make a good cocktail,” Courtney said a bit too loudly to Grace. How many had Courtney had? Three? Four?
Grace chuckled. “Well, there was once a time when I did it each and every night.”
Willow lifted the glass to her lips again, heat coiling her belly. It was probably a normal level of sweetness, actually; she was just sensitive. Or maybe it had just been too long since she’d had a drink. “You worked in a bar, Grace?”
There was a subtle change in her features. It only lasted a second and almost had Willow wondering if she’d actually seen it. “I did.”
Willow didn’t miss the way Grace’s fingers pressed a bit harder against the glass she’d been cradling all night.
“Well, I, for one, am glad you became a therapist. You’re a magic worker.” Courtney turned to Willow. “A month ago, I couldn’t step inside an elevator without turning into a mess. I was terrified…of an elevator! Grace healed me with her therapist superpowers.”
Grace shook her head. “No, you healed you. You sought help, and you did the work.”
“It’s true,” Willow said, taking another small sip. The drink became less sweet with each one. “You only get better if you want to get better. I would know. I lived through postpartum depression for almost two years. It took Blake disappearing for me to finally recognize something was wrong and ask for help.”
She hadn’t been planning to tell the women that, but it also wasn’t a secret. Not enough people spoke about the illness. They should. Maybe if it was more widely discussed, she would have known what was going on sooner.
Grace’s eyes softened. “That must have been so hard.”
She nodded. “I didn’t even know it was PPD until I saw a therapist. I just thought being a mom was supposed to be hard. That losing yourself was part and parcel of motherhood.” She swung her glass in a little circle, watching the liquid swirl around. “But it was more than that. I was going through the motions while never actually feeling…okay. And the anxiety…” She shook her head. “It was bad.”
“Was Blake there for you?” Courtney asked quietly.
“He was away a lot for work.” The flames flickered behind her drink. “I remember being so angry with him. Like I needed him to do better. To be a better support for me in this new role I’d found myself in. Looking back, I feel like that was selfish of me. He’d worked so hard to become a SEAL.”
“Maybe you were just trying to survive,” Courtney said.
“That’s exactly what it was. I spent a lot of time trying to hide the depths of my struggle. I felt like I should be doing okay. Everyone else I’d known who had a baby seemed to be okay.”
That had been her mindset at the time. But she’d started to wonder how many others put on the smile in public? Made the world think they were okay when really, they were drowning?
“Did you ever ask him for more help?” Grace asked.
Willow sucked in a sharp breath at the memory of that night. The only night she’d spoken up about it to Blake. How many times had she let that conversation haunt her?
“The night that he left for his final mission…the one he didn’t return from…I finally admitted to him that I was really struggling. It was the first time I’d ever vocalized those words, or even really admitted them to myself. Deep down, I think we both knew, but neither of us wanted to face it. Like if we said it out loud, it would make it real. That night, I told him I needed more from him. I needed him to be more present.”
A tremor cascaded down her spine at the memory. She hated thinking about that night. Hated that those were her final words to him before he’d been taken. Kidnapped from his hotel room just before he was supposed to be sent out on a mission.
Courtney frowned. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.” She continued swirling the drink, still watching it without actually seeing. “For a moment, he looked like he was going to say something, but then he just…didn’t. He lifted his bag, kissed me on the forehead, and walked out the door. And I just stood there feeling…empty.”
Empty was the only way she could explain it. Because admitting those words out loud to Blake, after two years of silently battling the illness she didn’t even know she had, had been huge. And for a moment, she’d thought he would somehow help her. Save her.
When he left, she hadn’t known what to do.
Courtney’s gasp was loud, whereas Grace was silent in her sympathy.
Willow wet her lips. “He’s been amazing since coming back. And I know he wants us to give the relationship another go. I tell him that I don’t want to because of Mila. And that I’m scared he’ll disappear again. But really, I think I’m just scared that we’ll end up where we were before. Not me falling into a depression again. But me needing more than he can give.”
There was a moment of silence. It was heavy. Then Grace nodded. “That fear is very valid.”
“Do you still love him?” Courtney asked quietly.
“So much that my heart hurts.” It was a pain she feared would cripple her some days.
The other women gave each other knowing looks.
Willow almost laughed. “You guys think I should give us another try.”
“I think that fear can be our greatest protector,” Grace said. “But it can also rob us of a lot of beautiful things that could be.”
Courtney shrugged. “So yeah, we think Blake can do better now, and you should totally do the guy.”
This time, Willow did laugh.
“But if he ever walks away from your pain or your cry for help again, you call us in,” she continued. “And we’ll call Jason and Logan in.”
They all laughed again.
Maybe they were right. Maybe she’d spent too long trying to protect herself since his return, and in doing so, she’d cheated herself of happiness.
Screw it. Willow took a big gulp of her cocktail before lifting her phone.
“And as the plane left the station, the smooth takeoff made her eyes feel heavy. She drifted off to sleep.” Blake closed the book.
Mila’s little hands tugged his wrist. “Again, Daddy!”
“We’ve read it twice, baby girl. Aren’t you tired?”
“No.” The second the word left her lips, her mouth stretched into a yawn. At least she was a cute little liar. “I like this book. Mama read it to me on the plane when we flew to Lockhart. It was the first time she didn’t look so sad.”
Blake tried not to tense up. “Sad?”
Mila’s eyes started to shutter. “She had sad eyes for a long time. Sometimes her mouth would be sad too.”
He stroked his daughter’s hair, her words tugging at his heart.
“Mama talked about our new house on the plane. She said it was a new start. She wasn’t so sad in the new house.”
His jaw clenched. Before Blake had been taken, the three of them lived near his base in Virginia Beach, Virginia. He’d returned to find Willow and Mila in Lockhart, Texas. He’d always wondered about the move, knowing it hadn’t been for work or study.
“I don’t think Mama knows that I saw how sad she was. I think she tried to hide it.” Yet again, Blake was reminded of how damn smart and perceptive the kid was. She saw so much more than she should at her young age. “Do you think she’ll ever get sad like that again?”
Not if he could help it. “No, baby. I don’t. But if she does, I’ll be here to take care of everyone.” Both physically and emotionally. It was a silent promise he never planned to break.
Mila snuggled further into the pillow. “I love you, Daddy.”
Every protective instinct hummed to life. He stroked his daughter’s hair. “I love you too.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but he didn’t stand. Not yet. He sat there for a long while, just watching the peace wash over her face. Listening to the soft breaths moving in and out of her chest. The light thuds of her heart.
He traced every inch of her face with his eyes, casting every little line and ridge to memory. His gaze paused on the small scar on her chin, and his stomach cramped at the knowledge that he had no idea where it came from. He didn’t have that story. That memory.
When he finally rose, he moved to the door slowly, pulling it almost closed before switching off the light.
He’d just stepped into the hall when a text came through.
Willow: Did you get Mila down okay?
He smiled. But then, he always did that when her name popped up. He headed to the kitchen and pulled out a glass before filling it with water. Then he responded.
Blake: After a hundred and one books, little miss is deep asleep.
Three dots popped up to show that she was typing before they quickly disappeared. He frowned. What were you about to write, Willow?
She was having drinks with Courtney and Grace at Jason’s place. He had no idea if “drinks” meant just a couple, or more than that. He didn’t care either way. The woman deserved a night off. Hell, she deserved many nights off. So if she wanted to have a few cocktails, he hoped she did exactly that.
He was just sipping the water when the next message came through.
Willow: Do you ever wonder what would have happened with us if you hadn’t been taken?
One big thump of his heart in his chest. Yes. His glass hit the bench so he could respond.
Blake: Every damn day.
Would he have smartened up and been the man she needed him to be? Would he have thought about her words during that last mission and realized they were a cry for help?
Those questions plagued him. Haunted him.
When she didn’t respond, he sent the next text.
Blake: One thing I know for certain, my love for you would have been just as strong as it is now, regardless of whether we’d been together or not.
Even if he hadn’t smartened up. Even if she’d walked out on him, his love for her would have been guaranteed. It always had been.
The one constant in his life.
There was so much more he could say. That he was sorry. That he’d never stop loving her. That if he could live that time again, there was so much he’d do differently.
Willow: I’m sorry I made you feel guilty for doing your job. I was just trying to keep my head above water.
Her words were like a physical blow to his gut. Trying to keep my head above water. She’d been drowning, and he’d been oblivious.
Blake: Come over tonight, honey.
He wanted to see the woman. Touch her. Hold her. They’d lost so much time. Too much. He’d been back for almost a year, and he’d tried to show her in every way possible that he could do better than he had in the past.
He was done waiting. It was time they learned to trust the new versions of themselves.
