A Soldier's Promise

Stop. Just...stop.

Pulling her hoodie closed against the evening chill, Val went back down to the cramped kitchen to make herself some hot chocolate, gather the ingredients to make this pie, the dog keeping her hopeful company. She poured milk into a mug and set it in the old microwave on the disgusting laminate counter, berating herself for letting her thoughts go down this path. Because she knew full well she’d only get sucked right back into the rabbit hole of hurt and depression she had to fight like hell not to go near, for the kids’ sake.

But the nights were hard, silent and long and lonely, those thoughts whistling though her head like the wind in a cemetery.

The microwave beeped. She dumped Nesquik into the mug, swearing under her breath when half of it landed on the counter, the minor aggravation shoving her into the rabbit hole, anyway. And down she went, mad as hell but helpless to avoid it. Yes, her husband’s work—work he loved and was good at—had been work that had saved probably countless lives. But it wasn’t fair, that after everything she’d been through, everything she’d thought she’d finally won, that she’d had to spend so much of the past six years with her heart in her throat.

That he’d made her a widow before she was thirty.

Val shut her eyes, not only against the pain, but the frustration of not being able to get past it, to appreciate her husband’s sacrifice. Dammit, everything Tomas did was for other people. Why couldn’t she feel more proud of him? Why, no matter how hard she tried, couldn’t she feel something more than that he’d abandoned them, broken his promise to her, to their children?

Hideous, selfish thoughts she didn’t dare admit to anyone. Ever.

Radar nosed her hand; her eyes wet, she smiled down at that sweet face, a face she wouldn’t even be looking at if Tomas hadn’t rescued the dog. Much like he’d rescued Val. She couldn’t imagine—didn’t want to—what her life would have been like if he hadn’t. She wouldn’t have the girls, for one thing. Or his parents, who’d welcomed her as their own from the first time Tomas brought her home to meet them. And yet as grateful as she was for all of that—as in, her heart knew no bounds—none of it made up for what she’d lost.

For what—she took a sip of the hot chocolate, the taste cloying in her mouth—her husband’s friendship with Levi Talbot had stolen from her.

And because the person she was the most honest with was herself, that was something she doubted she’d ever get over.

The haunted look in those murky green eyes notwithstanding.

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