not in a bad way—I’d been loved and protected and I wouldn’t feel guilty about that. I had a great family. I had parents who were involved, present, and understanding. I had aunts and uncles who were the same. I had cousins and siblings who all bickered and argued but loved fiercely.
But my life hadn’t been perfect. Far from it. My family knew pain, we knew hardship. However, when we hit trouble we stuck together and fought our way through.
Walkers didn’t quit.
Yet, I had. I quit Trey when he needed help.
My dad would be disappointed in me. Heck, I was disappointed in myself.
After teaching an hour-long yoga session, I was in no more of a mood to have lunch with Jake than I was before class. I’d tried my best to relax into the poses and find my center. Nothing worked, I couldn’t stop thinking about Trey and what Hadley told me. I’d been hasty and had reacted poorly to Trey’s insults. I should’ve called it a day, called my dad, and sought guidance. Or alternately, I could’ve reached out to any of my uncles or to one of the VA counselors. Instead, I allowed him to hurt my feelings, then I’d dismissed him.
Now I had to endure lunch with Jake and listen to him dredge up a past I didn’t want to remember.
I saw Jake before he saw me and it gave me the opportunity I hadn’t had when he’d surprised me earlier. He’d changed a lot in the years since I’d seen him last. He’d lost all of his boyish good looks, and now he stood straighter, taller, alert. It was an assumption of course, and perhaps an unfair judgment, but taking in the hard set of his jaw I’d guess he’s lost more than his boyish good looks—he’d lost something more important.
As if sensing my approach, his gaze cut to me, and right before my eyes Jake stowed the angry blank stare and smiled.
Yeah, he lost something big. And I didn’t like how easy it was for him to mask his emotions.
Crap. I didn’t want to have lunch with him.
“Addy. I wasn’t sure if you’d stand me up.”
I wish I had it in me to be rude.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, I needed to sign off on some paperwork.”
And I needed time to push Trey out of my head.
“No worries. I’m here the rest of the day. Sprouts okay?”
Sprouts was a café across the street.
“Perfect. Do you want to walk?”
Something flashed across his face but it was so quick I couldn’t read it.
“If you don’t—”
“Walking’s fine.” He nodded to the door. I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and Jake frowned. “Do you want me to carry that?”
“My purse?”
“It looks heavy.”
Maybe I’d been quick to judge; it seemed there was still a bit of the old Jake left in him.
“It’s fine. Besides, you’re in uniform and if I remember correctly it’s against regs for you to carry my purse.”
“Jefferson was an ass,” he remarked, referring to Command Master Sergeant Jefferson who had reamed Jake’s behind for being in his dress uniform and carry my purse, backpack, and laptop.
“He totally was.” I smiled at the memory.
“There you are,” Jake whispered.
“What?”
“I’d forgotten how beautiful you are when you smile.” My shoulders tensed at his compliment, but before I could respond, he continued, “Let’s get out of here.”
We filled the short walk across the street with small talk—how much the area had changed since he’d been stationed there. Me graduating from college and moving out of my parents’ house. He was surprised to hear that Hadley and I had opted to live separately but he understood why, and he would because when we were together we’d talked about how I’d always felt over-shadowed by my twin. Not that Hadley did it on purpose or with malice but the differences in our personalities leaned toward her being in the spotlight and me fading into the background.
By the time we made it to Sprouts, I was feeling guilty for wanting to bag on lunch. There was more to Jake than the last week of our relationship. He’d been a good listener, he was kind, and he’d gone to great lengths to be gentle with me.
When he pulled out my chair, my attitude softened, and when he took the seat across from me and ran his fingers through his hair complaining about “hat hair” I was reminded how good-looking he was. I’d been right, there was no boy left in him. Jake