tea. He popped the top and took a long slow slurp. Another luxury. It didn’t seem to hit the spot, though. Maybe because this last tour had put a hole in his soul. Staying connected to Ali had helped mask that some, but now—
Mike shook his head and set the can on the counter. He walked away into the darkness. Sarah was going to adopt him. How could he have guessed that? He thought she was the perfect foster mother—in spite of all their differences he had to be honest about that—but adopt him? Why? She had been set on having her own children, and soon. Wasn’t that the reason she had set down her ultimatum? Why hadn’t she found someone else to walk down the aisle with?
The memory of her shadowed eyes cut him in two. She had avoided looking directly at him. She had talked to him as little as possible. She didn’t seem to care how ruthlessly she had hurt him.
He unrolled his sleeping bag with a hard shake. Yes, that was his breath huffing in the silence. He pressed his hand to his forehead and took a few slow mouthfuls of air. What was he doing? Blaming Sarah wasn’t going to change a thing. He didn’t really think it was her fault to begin with.
She hadn’t loved him enough, but he didn’t blame her for that. Even through his bitterness, he could clearly see she always had the best of intentions. She was pure sweetness with her chocolate cupcakes for dessert and her living-room shelves stuffed with children’s books. She didn’t live in his world. She didn’t understand what he was fighting for day in and day out. That wasn’t her fault.
No, he was angry at himself because he still cared for her. That’s what this anger was. It was distracting him from a whole lot of hurt. His anger was spent.
In the silence of the comfortable bedroom in the pleasant neighborhood on this safe army post, the silence threatened to suffocate him. He could still hear the distant pop of artillery, and beep of monitors from ICU. Exhaustion clung to him. He sank to his knees, alone and lost.
It was going to be a long night.
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