THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,268

on my cheeks. Gently he turns my face away from the screen to meet his gaze.

“The guys are fine, Lainey. No one is hurt. I guess this is a good jumping off point.” The lights flicker in our little corner and it draws his beautiful eyes away from mine. “We had a successful mission, Lane. I…we…rescued a high value hostage. We brought him home. He’s safe.”

I nod at him. “That’s great, honey.” I fail at keeping sarcasm out of my tone. “I don’t see what the problem is then.” Navy SEALs don’t fail. When they do, they fail really freaking hard. It’s all or nothing. It’s a life I’ve become accustomed to. It’s a life I’ve been enveloped in for so long that I’m not sure how normal individuals succeed on a daily basis. If the guys were successful, then he wouldn’t be looking at me with such sadness that I feel it down to my bones. I want to wrap him in my arms and comfort him, and I have no idea why. A shiver runs all the way down my spine.

I take his hand with both of mine. “It’s fine. Keep talking,” I whisper.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and his ocean eyes glaze over. He’s a million miles away from here in this moment. “He’s alive,” he chokes out. Two words that could mean as little or as much as I want.

“Who is alive?”

“The hostage.” Again. Dax did his job. What could possibly make him this upset? A man who is never perturbed or shaken by anything is on the verge of a breakdown in broad daylight in our coffee shop.

He realizes I’m still not following because he takes one deep breath and then another. “Cody Ridge is alive, Lane. He was the hostage I rescued.”

The next seconds are a blur of Dax’s words bouncing around in my skull. Alive. Cody. Alive. Cody. Alive. Cody. I don’t even pause to consider if his words are truth. I know they are. He wouldn’t lie to me about something of this magnitude. Cody Ridge, my deceased fiancé. I remember the empty casket I buried. I didn’t even get to bury his body. They told me it wasn’t recovered. There’s a stuffed dog, a letter I wrote to him, a photo of us, some childhood mementos, and a memory stick with code buried six feet under a tombstone that bears his name. The flag that was draped over his casket sits above my fireplace in my home in Virginia Beach. How is this possible? I’m burning, my chest is burning. My heart. It’s a burn that sears my soul—a jagged wound ripped open so wide I bet New York City just stopped to rubberneck.

“Breathe, Lainey. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe,” Dax says. I hear the worry in his voice. I want to do as he says, but I can’t. I can’t breathe. Cody Ridge is alive.

“No,” I finally manage to say. My coffee soaks through my blouse and my skirt. Dax is pressing napkins against my neck to mop up the spill I didn’t even know occurred.

He kisses my forehead. “I didn’t believe it either. How could I? It was impossible. He’s alive.” Images of his funeral flash every time I blink. The pain. The unknown factor. The grief. The years and years of grief and unbearable pain. How can this be?

I shake my head as hot tears spring to my eyes. “No.” Now I remember fond memories of Cody and I. The time I made him ride a roller coaster and he actually got sick. Vacations spent in Cabo tan, naked and so in love we couldn’t see straight…or walk straight. His laugh. Cody’s laugh could cure any ailment. The night he proposed and I couldn’t say yes fast enough or loud enough. I yelled it at the top of that mountain, all sweaty from a hike. It was Christmastime, my favorite time of year. I never let myself think of these memories. They’re too painful.

My gaze darts back to the television. I suppose I’m waiting for a photo of Cody to flash across the screen. Something. Anything—to signal this impossible truth as a fact. Maybe that would make it real. I have so many questions I want to ask. Words don’t come, but tears do. They flow in a cascade down my face as a new wave of unfamiliar grief washes over me. Dax’s beautiful, anguished face pierces the piece of my heart that he owns. He knows