“Thanks, baby.”

“You can’t call me ‘baby,’” I reply more harshly than I meant to. Aaron’s eyes drop to our joined hands.

“But I can hold your hand?”

“I think you need a friend. I think you need support to talk about what’s going on and what happened. I’ve been your friend since we were kids. I’ll always be your friend.”

Aaron nods and let’s out a deep breath. “I don’t know how much will make sense. But I remember getting in the caravan to head out to the site where we were having issues. There were four of us in the truck just talking and laughing.” His eyes glaze over as he retreats into his story. “There were a bunch of kids throwing their arms up screaming. They were trying to stop us—I guess. I don’t know what they wanted. I was sitting in the passenger side and urged the driver to keep going. I know better than to slow down, but instead of listening, he let up on the gas. As soon as we slowed a little, the explosion happened. It hit my side of the vehicle, and I remember feeling like I was flying. Everything was weightless but chaotic at the same time.”

He takes a deep breath and his hand tightens. “What happened then?”

“There was screaming and blood everywhere. I remember being dragged by the neck, and I assumed it was one of the guys in our car. I was going in and out so much, I honestly don’t know much more than that.”

As a tear falls down my face, Aaron releases my hand. “Who was pulling you?”

“They did.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” I encourage him to tell me more.

“Who do you think, Lee?” Aaron says as his jaw tightens. “I was losing a lot of blood. I thought I was dead. They made sure I wouldn’t die, but I wouldn’t tell them anything. Not my name, not anything. They knew I was American, even though I only spoke French so they’d be confused. I would go unconscious for long periods of time. I honestly don’t remember much. When Charlie came to the site, she apparently was following around some high ranking terrorist pretending to be his new toy.”

“Is that the agent that found you?” I ask.

“Yes, she literally stumbled on the camp I was being held. When she realized I was American, I started to get the care I needed and got some information. But I wasn’t sure any of it was real. I’m still not sure what was reality versus not.”

I sit quiet and try to absorb all he’s telling me. It was a year and we never looked. None of us searched for him. “They told us there was no way you could’ve survived the blast. It was so bad that no one would. There weren’t many remains of the others. Did they survive?” I look at him and he shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t have. The blast was bad, but apparently, I got pulled out before the secondary explosion of the vehicle. I was mangled and in bad condition when I woke up the first time. I would wake for a few hours and then go back out for who knows how long. There wasn’t exactly good medical attention. Charlie was the only thing keeping me alive. It took her months to gain my trust. I wasn’t sure if she really was CIA or if she was full of shit. I couldn’t rely on my training because nothing made sense.”

“I hate this for you,” I admit.

He tangles his fingers with mine. “All I knew was that if there was any chance, I needed to stay strong. I would let her help me so that I could come home to you,” he says, hushed.

“Aaron,” my voice shakes. I hate that he’s been hurt. I know he won’t tell me, but I care. “Did they . . . ?”

“I’ve been through worse. I’m alive, so all of that shit doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t tell you how much your death affected me. I was a mess. Each night I would pray it was a lie. I refused to get rid of your things for almost the full year. I can’t tell you what it was like when Mark came to the house to tell me,” I let out a shaky breath. “I latched on to every good memory we had. I held them like lifelines, praying they would keep me afloat. When I went into labor, Reanell practically had to carry me to the car. I knew once Aara was born, things would be different for me.” I stop and take a gulp of wine. “I did it though, I gave birth to that beautiful little girl, alone. Each time I’d push I would think of you. How you went through so much and always stayed strong. When I held her for the first time, it was agony. I hated being alone.”

“You think I didn’t want to be there?” he asks incredulously.

“No, of course I don’t think that. Let me finish.” I wait for the vein in his neck to stop pulsing. “There was this baby we fought so hard for. She was everything I wanted, but you weren’t there. It was the end of me feeling sorry for myself. I found strength and determination. I was still sad, lonely, and missing you terribly, but you were gone. When I had the memorial, it was horrific, but again, I did it. I had to get up each day because she needed me, but that was about all I could do. Then Liam came to Virginia.”

“No,” Aaron cuts me off. My eyes snap up, and he rips his hand back. “You’re not going to sit here and tell me about how Liam put you back together. Natalie, you’re my wife.” He leans forward with determination in his eyes. “We have a child. We have a life people only dream of. You and I are meant to be together.”

“You slept with another woman. You keep forgetting that. And I don’t think we had a life people dream of. I think we were comfortable and content. You were seeking what I wasn’t giving you! You said it yourself.”

“It was a one-time thing, a fucked up night,” he says, and my retort dies on my tongue.

“One night? You can look me in the eyes and tell me that?” I ask hesitantly.

Aaron stands and comes around the table. My heart falters as I look at my husband, my best friend since I was sixteen. He stands over me and pulls me to my feet. “One horrible night after we’d lost the baby. After I had to watch you lie on the bathroom floor begging for God to kill you. You held your stomach and prayed that someone would just end it all because you weren’t good enough. I was broken after that. I didn’t know what to do, so I left.”

“I remember. I came out and you were gone. You left when I was in the middle of pure torture.” I look at him recalling that night.

It was the last failed procedure, and I was distraught. I thought that baby was the one. I was ten weeks, we were so close to the safe zone. I started cramping and then I saw blood. I sat there trying to convince myself that it wasn’t really blood. That it wasn’t a sign that we were going to lose the baby, because I was so close. The pain was unlike anything I’d ever felt. I would cry and clutch my stomach as the life I’d been desperate for left me.

I told myself that if the pregnancy didn’t stick, I would stop trying. I needed to move forward and stop hoping for something I wasn’t meant to have. We’d spent so much money and energy. I was consumed by everything regarding fertility.

Aaron’s hands hold my face. “I couldn’t watch. I felt like I failed you as a husband. I couldn’t watch you like that. I went to the bar, got drunk, and I fucked up.”

Turmoil boils in my body as I try to figure out if he’s lying. None of this makes sense. “Brittany said it was months. She said . . .”