Immediately I want to punch something.

How the fuck can she have someone else in her bed?

Then I see the dark brown hair pulled up and realize it’s Reanell. She must’ve stayed.

I head downstairs and look over at the mantel where the flag sits. I’m conflicted and angry. “Why, man? Why would you do it? After everything that you said about the guys who fuck around on their wives.” I speak quietly but I’m pissed off. “And fucking Brittany?” I only met her once, but she was more than willing to do whatever I wanted after one night. Hell, she would’ve blown me in the bar if I asked her to. It makes no sense. You trade up, not slum it.

I sit on the couch and lean my head back. I’m drained, pissed, and a slew of other feelings I’d rather not think about.

The bottle of Jack sits there and I grab it, pulling a long gulp down. I close my eyes and wait for some brilliant idea to strike me on how to handle all this shit. She’s going to pull back. I can feel it. I pushed her away when she threw herself at me, but I want her to be ready when we take the next step, because after that . . . there’s no going back.

I relax and my mind goes blank.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps. I jump up disoriented and realize I fell asleep on her couch.

Shit.

I look over and see Reanell coming down the steps. She stops and her hand grips her throat until she registers who I am.

“You’re here?” she asks with a knowing look.

“I came by late to check on her, but . . .” I feel stupid. I should’ve left after I saw they were okay.

Reanell steps forward and puts her hand on my arm. “You really do care about her, don’t you?”

I let out a deep sigh. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Do you love her?” She pulls no punches.

“I cared for her all those years we were friends. But I’m falling in love with her,” I admit for the first time to anyone including myself.

She nods and looks at the bottle of Jack. “She’s going to be hurting for a while, but don’t give up on her. I see things in her that you’ve brought out. Her heart will heal, but you’ll have to decide how much shit you’re willing to put up with in the meantime.”

We both sit on the couch and I look at the clock. It’s six A.M. and it’s way too early to be thinking about this. “I should get going.”

“For what it’s worth,” she puts her hand on my forearm, “I don’t think Natalie’s willing to see the issues she and Aaron were having. In her mind their life was wonderful, but getting ready to have a baby had her rose-colored glasses firmly in place. When you’re a military wife you choose to see things in a certain way. It’s easier than dealing with your brooding asses when you go through another shift in attitude.” Her face falls and she looks away.

“I can’t compete with him.”

She looks back and her eyes soften, “I don’t think you have to. That’s what I’m saying. Give her a few days and let her grieve the loss of the real husband she had. She’s been mourning an idea . . . which I understand.”

“I can’t feel like I’m second best to him.”

“I understand that. I think in a day or two she’ll come to terms with it all. If you love her, you’re going to have to realize this is like losing him all over again. The past slapped her pretty hard. And then kicked her a few times.” She sighs and looks away. “I also don’t think you were ever number two. Once she allowed her heart to let you in, you’ve been number one, even when you weren’t.”

“That makes no sense, but I’m exhausted and need some fucking sleep. Plus, I don’t want her to see me here.”

“You’re a good guy. I like you,” Reanell says and we both stand.

“Thanks. I think.” I grab my keys and head out the door, careful not to make any noise.

I look at her window and decide I need to let her come to me. I can’t keep pushing her and I fear I’ll push her away. I love her and that scares the ever-living shit out of me. She needs to decide if it’s me she wants. I sure as hell won’t be the consolation prize.

My head is throbbing. Between the crying and the copious amounts of Jack Daniels I drank on top of the beer, I’m lucky I’m not puking. I roll over and Reanell looks at me with a sad smile.

“Morning, sunshine,” she says in a low tone. “Water and aspirin are over there. You should take them.”

I groan and press my palm against my skull. “Aarabelle?”

“I already fed her and she’s down for her morning nap.”

I shoot up and immediately regret doing that. The clock reads eleven and I feel like the world’s worst mother. “I didn’t even hear her.”

“That’s because I woke up early and took the monitor out. I think you needed the sleep more than being super mom.” Reanell sits up and puts the water bottle in my hand.

Memories from last night flood back and I immediately wish I was still asleep. I look around the bedroom and anger boils past what’s reasonable. “I need to get out of this room,” I mutter and take the pills.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks, knowing what I’m feeling. In the beginning of her marriage to Mason, he cheated. They’re one of the stories in the teams that gave others hope that they could come out on the other side. Reanell and Mason worked hard to get through it and come out stronger. He paid heavily, but love was never their issue.

“About what? How stupid I am?”

“How the hell are you stupid?” her voice is full of reproach.

I stand and look at the dresser where Aaron’s watches sit. I look at his side of the bed that still has his clothes folded neatly. Opening a drawer, I start looking for something. Anything that tells me this happened. The headache throbs on, but I don’t care. There are answers here and I’m going to find them.

“Natalie, what are you doing?” she asks me as I start to throw his clothes out.

“I have to know. There has to be something here. Something that tells me my husband was fucking another woman,” I explain as I pull a shirt out of the drawer. “I never bought him this . . . maybe she did.”

Rea comes up behind me and her hand grips my shoulder, but I shrug it off.

“He wasn’t that smart. There’s something here,” I insist. I grab the picture of us with him behind me holding my shoulders and kissing my cheek. I throw it against the wall with all my might and the glass shatters. “I hate him!” Everything comes flooding back.

Reanell sits back on the bed and crosses her legs.

The next drawer contains his pants. I pull each pair out and rifle through the pockets. Looking for God knows what, but I need something . . . anything. “Stupid bastard.” Each time I come up empty, I grow more and more angry.

I rip open his closet door and start pulling more things out. I find a pocketknife in his pants and rage consumes me. I want to tear every emotion out of me. Purge the hurt he’s managed to cause from the grave. “I hope she was worth it!” I cry as I cut his favorite suit with his knife. The fabric rips apart and so does a part of my soul.

“You about done?” Reanell asks, while sitting on the bed.