I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out before old feelings started to surface again, and I knew the minute they did, he’d be gone.
And the cost would be so much larger next time.
Chapter 7
Shane
I took a shower slowly, enjoying the clean tub beneath my feet and the quiet of the morning. I didn’t know how long it would be before I had the luxury of either of those things again.
Deployments weren’t anything new. I’d done it all before—leaving the kids, living out of a couple of seabags, smelling like ass for six months at a time¸ the constant state of alertness that didn’t even let me get a full night’s rest.
But that morning, my chest felt tight in a way it hadn’t before. I think my emotions may have been just a little too close to the surface, and that was dangerous for a man in my position. I needed to lock it all down. I needed to remember my routine, the things I could let my mind wander to, and the things I had to ignore at all costs.
When the water finally began to cool, I turned off the shower and slid the curtain back.
Kate was there in her nightgown.
I jerked in surprise. “What’s wrong?”
She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, with wide eyes and a trembling mouth. “I thought you left,” she said quietly, shaking. “You—I thought you left.”
I pulled my towel off the rack and dried myself quickly so I could pull her against my chest.
“I wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”
“I know. I don’t know why I panicked.”
“You’re freezing. Come on.” I gently tugged her into my bedroom, pulled a sweatshirt off the top of my dresser, and slid it over her head. “Better?” I asked as she threaded her arms through the sleeves.
“Yeah.”
I steered her to the foot of the bed, and I was glad that she sat silently as I got dressed methodically in my uniform.
My routine on the day I left was important, as I’d come to realize within my first couple of deployments. It wasn’t really superstition—I didn’t believe in that shit—but instead a way to level out my anxiety.
First I pulled on my boxer briefs, then socks, undershirt, pants, belt, boots, boot-bands, blouse. Wallet in my pocket. Watch on my wrist. Sleeves buttoned. Photos of the kids in my chest pocket.
When I was done, I turned to see Kate watching me intently.
“Ready to wake the kids?” I asked.
“How much time do we have?” she replied hoarsely.
“A little over an hour,” I answered, checking my watch.
“Can we wait a few minutes? I’m waiting for my anti-nausea medicine to kick in.”
“You’re still taking that?” I hadn’t realized that she was still having problems, though she did look pretty tired all the time. Her pregnancy was anything but easy.
“It’s not as bad anymore,” she informed me as I sat down next to her.
Her hair was sticking out at all angles and matted in the back from the night before. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her lips were slightly chapped. My sweatshirt was huge on her, except where it pulled tight across her breasts, and her toenail polish was eight different colors and chipping.
Oddly enough, she still looked gorgeous.
I reached out to take her hand in mine.
“It’s going to go by really quick,” I told her as she nodded, looking at the wall. “Don’t be scared, Katie.”
“I’m not very good at this, am I?” she asked with a watery chuckle, turning her head to look me in the eye.
She wasn’t. She wasn’t good at this. She wasn’t stoic like Rachel. She didn’t assure me things would be fine or agree that the time apart would move quickly. She didn’t wear a brave face or act as if she would barely notice my absence.
I’d been thankful that Rachel did those things. It made it infinitely easier for me to leave when the time came, knowing that she would be just fine without me.
But that wasn’t Kate. Kate wasn’t Rachel. She wore her heart on her sleeve; her emotions were always out there for the world to see. If Kate had acted like she was fine with me being gone for six months, I’m not sure how I would have felt.
“You’re doing just fine,” I reassured her with a small smile, making her laugh again as tears ran down her cheeks. “Come here.”
I pulled her onto my lap, and she pressed her face into my neck. Her nails dug into my back through my shirts as she gripped me, and I tightened my arms around her in response.
Her hair smelled like me. Shit, her entire body smelled like me.
“It’s these stupid hormones,” she complained, sniffling.
“Well, hopefully you get that shit under control before I get back,” I replied drily, kissing the top of her head.