Interference, p.18
Interference, page 18
I huffed a humorless laugh. “I’m used to being stuck around him.”
“But the breakup—that’s a recent development, isn’t it?”
He had a point, and I gave it some thought. No, I hadn’t had much time to get used to being around Simon and the team now that we were exes. We’d practiced and played, we’d eaten with our teammates, and we’d traveled, all since Simon had dumped me, but that had been over a fairly brief stretch. There hadn’t been time to let it all sink in and let the shock wear off.
Except…
What shock? Let what sink in?
I met Wyatt’s gaze. “You know what’s messed up?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“The breakup—it kind of came out of nowhere,” I said. “Like yeah, we’ve had problems for a while, but I still thought—anyway, he just dropped the bomb and that was it. We were done. But now that he has…” I sighed, shaking my head. “I thought I’d be a mess because we spent so much time fighting to save something and failed. Now I’m just like, ‘What the fuck were we trying to save?’”
Wyatt straightened a little, but my own words slammed into me like a ninety-mile-an-hour one-timer. Out of nowhere. Right to the center of the chest.
What had we been fighting to save?
No. That wasn’t it.
What had I been fighting to save? Because looking back now, I saw myself pleading with him, arguing with him, begging him to go to a counselor, to fucking talk to me.
And Simon…
I sat back in my chair and swallowed hard. “God, I don’t even know why he hung on this long, you know?” I reached for my water glass as I added a bitter, “To tell you the truth, I think he checked out before he moved out.”
“Damn,” Wyatt said. “I had an ex like that.” He rolled his eyes. “In hindsight, I think he was just hanging on because he liked my BAH.”
“BAH?”
“Housing allowance. It was enough to cover our entire rent, so he didn’t have to worry about anything except utilities.” He huffed a dry laugh. “I finally got tired of it, drove him down to the recruiter’s office, and said, ‘If you’re just in it for the BAH, you can enlist and get your own.’”
I barked a laugh. “Oh my God. You didn’t.”
Wyatt snickered. “I so did. And that’s the story of how my boyfriend and I split up in front of the Army recruiter’s office.”
“Wow. So he really was just in it for the rent?”
“Yep. Didn’t even try to hide it when I called him out.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Did he enlist?”
Wyatt snorted, shaking his head. “Oh, hell no. This was a guy who thought it was the biggest imposition in the world to load the dishwasher.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. He was one of those.”
“Yep. I still don’t know why I stuck it out for so long.” He wrinkled his nose. “God knows the sex wasn’t worth it.”
I burst out laughing. From the wicked chuckle and the little sparkle in his eye, that was what he was going for, and I appreciated it.
“So it was one of those relationships where it ended, and I wondered why I wasted so much time and energy trying to keep it going.” He nodded toward me. “Maybe that’s what’s happening here?”
“I… yeah, maybe? I mean, we had a good thing for a long time. The first couple of years were great. But once it started going downhill…” I stared at the table between us as the last year ran through my mind. “Being with him stopped being fun. Like, I know it’s not supposed to be all sunshine and roses all the time, but it should at least be…”
“Not miserable?”
“Exactly. I kept telling myself it was a rough patch and we’d get through it, but…” I shook my head. “Even during a rough patch, we should still like each other, you know? And… I don’t think we did.”
That was a gut punch once I’d said it out loud. I loved Simon. I didn’t see any reality where I didn’t love him to some degree. But somewhere along the line, we’d stopped liking each other. If we weren’t fighting, we were either ignoring or annoying each other. I didn’t have a single fond memory of the two of us from the past year or so. The last six months, every interaction was stained with frustration and resentment.
I exhaled and met Wyatt’s gaze again. “I can’t say I’m glad the relationship failed. I really thought we were in it for the long haul.” I swallowed. “But now that it’s over, I’m definitely relieved.”
Wyatt’s smile was gentle and sympathetic. “It’s tough. Sometimes it just doesn’t work, you know? And I mean, you guys are teammates. Maybe this is the best thing for your relationship in the long run.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, my oldest brother and his ex-wife tried to stick it out for their kids even though they were miserable. They couldn’t stand each other for the last two years they were married. Once they got divorced, though, and they started co-parenting, they realized they were fine that way. They get along great now.”
“So they made better exes than spouses.”
“In their case, I think they made great spouses, and they made great parents, but they were terrible as married parents. Like, they were fine when it was just the two of them. They were fine after the divorce. But they couldn’t make both marriage and parenting work.”
I considered it. “Huh. Maybe that’s the thing with me and Simon. Boyfriends, fine. Teammates, fine. But not both.”
“Could be,” he said. “It might take some time, but you never know.”
I’d always thought I’d be crushed, going from Simon’s boyfriend to just his teammate. Today… Well, maybe Wyatt was right.
And I realized that, quite frankly, I’d rather be happy as Simon’s teammate than miserable as his boyfriend.
Maybe now, we could actually pull that off.
Chapter 16
Wyatt
I really, really hoped the drive to Thanksgiving didn’t set the tone for the whole day.
It was about twenty-five minutes from Anthony’s front door to their teammate’s house in Bothell. Anthony drove. Simon stewed in the passenger seat. I rode in the back with Lily.
No one spoke. No one.
And when I say it was twenty-five of the longest, quietest, and least comfortable minutes of my life, that was taking into consideration flights in and out of warzones. That cold, unnerving descent into Kandahar with my fellow soldiers in the belly of a C-17 had nothing on the tense ride through affluent suburbia with these recent exes. Instead of the deafening roar of engine noise drowning out any attempts at conversation, it was the soft hum of a luxury vehicle and a silence that made my ears ring harder than my occasional tinnitus.
Beside me, Lily shifted. She pushed her head under my hand, and I petted her, quietly murmuring that everything was okay. No surprise she’d picked up on my agitation; though none of my triggers were related to exes stuck together in a confined space, the palpable tension wasn’t good for my anxiety.
I studied Anthony, whose gaze was fixed on the road. He wasn’t white-knuckling the steering wheel, so that was a plus. My gut told me that if Simon had been driving, he’d have been channeling his frustration into speeding, slamming on the brakes, and whipping around corners. Been there, dated that.
No wonder Anthony was relieved they were over.
That was none of my business, though, and I’d have to be in the same space as Simon today, so I just kept my mouth shut, petted my dog, and gazed out the window.
Mercifully, the ride wasn’t actually as long as that flight into Kandahar, and I almost muttered, “Oh, thank fuck,” when Anthony pulled into a long driveway lined with other luxury cars. I didn’t think I’d ever been more relieved to get out of a vehicle that hadn’t taken enemy fire.
Anthony and Simon had apparently agreed to bring soda, and they’d loaded up the back of the Land Rover with about a dozen cases.
“We don’t need to bring it all in now,” Anthony said, the first words spoken since we’d left. “It’ll stay cold out here.”
Simon and I both grunted our agreement, and we each grabbed a couple of cases before heading up the driveway.
This house wasn’t as big or opulent as theirs, but it was definitely big and opulent. An enormous brick façade with white trim. A four-car garage that almost seemed too small for the rest of the house. A front porch that could’ve comfortably sat a dozen people with room to spare.
The yard was huge and flawless, too. A rolling lawn that probably took hours to mow. Perfectly manicured landscaping all along the driveway and the front of the house. Huge evergreens towering over the roof from the backyard.
I met our hosts as we came in and took off our shoes. After we’d put down the soda cases in the kitchen, Russell, one of the hosts, gestured at Lily. “Does your dog need anything? A water bowl or food dish?”
“Oh, um. I brought her a water bowl, if you don’t mind me filling it up?” I unclipped the portable dish from the side of her harness.
“I don’t mind at all. Come with me.” He showed me into the kitchen, and we found a spot where I could put her water down and it wouldn’t be disturbed. Lily took a quick drink, and then we headed back in to join everyone else.
I was immediately swept into the center of a whirlwind of introductions. There was no way in hell I was keeping everyone’s names straight, though I’d sure try.
I was on guard when I realized how many kids were here. I liked kids, but they didn’t always understand how service dogs worked. I mean, neither did adults, but kids could be a bit more forward with dogs, yelling or shoving their hands in the dog’s face.
To my surprise, though, while a few of the kids definitely noticed Lily, they all kept a respectful distance.
When a particularly young child—maybe two or three? I couldn’t tell—called out, “Doggy!” and started toddling toward Lily, her dad quickly swept her up.
“You can look at the doggy,” he told her. “But see her clothes? She’s busy. She can’t play right now.”
The child scowled as only little kids could do, in that angry and intense way that meant the universe had displeased them.
“Why don’t you head downstairs.” The dad put the kid down and gently nudged her toward the basement stairs. “They’re putting on a movie!” That was enough to redirect her attention, and she left with her father on her heels.
Her mom looked at me and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. She loves dogs.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” I returned the smile. “I do, too, so I get it. And, um—I appreciate it.”
“Any time.”
She left to help corral the kids downstairs, and I met Anthony’s gaze. “I didn’t realize everyone here was so conscientious about service dogs.”
He sipped his soda and chuckled. “That’s probably the one silver lining of the spouse who brought that badly trained ‘support dog’ to everything. She sent out emails and loudly lectured everyone about not distracting her dog, not petting him, keeping their kids away from him…” Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “It was totally an attention grab in her case, but the stuff about letting the dog work stuck.”
“Should I send her a thank-you note?” I asked dryly.
He snorted. “I dare you. Anyway, come on—I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”
Oh, fuck. There were more people?
There were, and that didn’t even take into account those who were still arriving. A lot of their teammates had traveled home for Thanksgiving, but there were still quite a few in town, not to mention members of the staff. Add in the partners and kids, and Russell had a full house.
Fortunately, Anthony had been right that we wouldn’t all be crowded into one place. There was an enormous table set up in the dining room and another in the family room, plus a kids’ table, so we’d be split up during dinner. In the meantime, people spread out into the various rooms of the house to watch football, socialize, snack, and entertain the kids.
We eventually drifted apart as we fell into conversations with different people. I lost sight of Anthony, but I wasn’t worried. I’d also lost sight of Simon, which was fine by me. In fact, I was pretty sure the two of them had gone into the garage with some of their teammates to shoot pucks. They were still trying to present the illusion of a united front, so Anthony was sticking close to Simon. As much as I would’ve liked to stay close to Anthony as well, I was more than happy to chill in here with a few other people and stay the hell away from Simon.
But hanging out here in the living room turned out to be less than ideal, too, because I quickly learned two things:
First, the garage shared a wall with the living room, and that wall was the one pucks slammed into when they missed whatever they’d been aimed at—a net, I assumed.
Second, a puck striking a wall or something metal hit just the right note to rouse some of my demons.
The voices through the wall didn’t help, either. It was probably cheering and shit-talking, but with just enough distance and drywall between us to muffle the actual words, it was hard to distinguish exuberance from anger. And unseen, angry voices punctuated by sudden, sharp noises…
As subtly as I could, I took some slow, deep breaths. Pucks hitting the wall didn’t actually sound like bullets or bombs, but the sudden loud, sharp bangs still tickled those mental tripwires I spent my life tiptoeing over. Same with the voices—a small group of trash-talking hockey players didn’t actually sound like angry insurgents, but combined with the puck noises, it fucked with my senses.
Lily nudged my leg. Then she jumped up and pawed at my shirt as she nudged my hand with her head, almost costing me my drink.
One of the wives made a face. “I thought service dogs were supposed to be well-behaved.”
“She is.” I gestured for Lily to get down, and I nodded toward the sliding glass door. “She’s letting me know she needs to go out.”
I didn’t wait for a response, though I heard some snide commentary as I left the living room and crossed the kitchen. Whatever. In that moment, I preferred to let them think my service dog was misbehaving or asking to do her business than reveal she was alerting on a PTSD response. What would they think if they knew a damn hockey puck hitting a wall and their husbands laughing about it could send me into a mental spiral?
As soon as we were outside, I took in a deep gulp of cold air, which settled some of my anxiety. The day was cool, but it was pleasant, and the light chill was enough to anchor me in the present.
I sat on a bench on the back deck and just breathed. Lily jumped up, front paws on my lap, and leaned hard against my chest. Closing my eyes, I wrapped an arm around her, and little by little, my heartrate came back down.
This was a mistake. I should’ve stayed at Anthony’s place and chilled with Lily and the cats.
But… no. I just wasn’t used to social events anymore. I wasn’t used to being around people, especially people I didn’t know. Combine that with loud, unfamiliar noises, and… Well, I couldn’t say I was surprised.
And I’d be fine when I went back inside. Now that I knew to expect the sounds, they shouldn’t trigger anything. All I had to do was spend a few minutes out here, getting some quiet and some fresh air. Then I’d be perfectly fine.
Maybe I should go into the garage with them. Maybe if I can see what they’re doing and hear what they’re saying, my brain will calm itself down.
It was worth a try.
In a minute, though. I wanted to make sure I’d fully pulled myself together before I ventured back in among Anthony’s teammates. He’d been gracious as hell, inviting me along in the first place. The last thing I needed to do was embarrass him by—
The sliding glass door opened, and I shot to my feet. Lily immediately scooted closer, fully focused on me.
“It’s okay,” I told her, and petted her as I turned around.
I hadn’t expected the person joining me to be a threat. Worst-case scenario would be Simon, who’d just be a prickly douche. But I had a number of synapses still programmed for combat and homeless life, and it was impossible to convince my demons that any situation was completely safe.
It was not, of course, anyone threatening. It wasn’t Simon. It wasn’t even Anthony.
A tall blonde woman stepped out onto the deck, holding my gaze shyly. “Um. Hi.” She closed the door behind her but leaned against it, and she flicked her eyes warily toward Lily. “You’re—I didn’t catch your name.”
I swallowed. “Wyatt.”
“Right. Right. Wyatt. I’m Monica. Young’s wife.” Her gaze again darted to Lily before locking on mine. “You came with Aussie and Cars, right?”
“Uh…” It took a second, but then I remembered Anthony’s nickname. The other must’ve been Simon’s. “Yeah. Yeah, I—sorry.” I laughed nervously, stroking Lily’s neck. “I just know them by their first names.”
She gave a soft laugh as she crept a little closer, gaze fixed on Lily even as she spoke to me. “You get used to the nicknames. After a while, you almost forget their real names.”
“Kind of sounds like the military. If some of my buddies didn’t have their name tapes on their uniforms, I wouldn’t have known what the f—what their names were.”
Monica laughed again. “Okay, so you get it.” She watched Lily for a moment, wringing her hands in front of her. “Listen, I’m…” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not going to ask to pet your dog. I know it’s… With service dogs… I get it.” She chewed her lip. “But would you mind if I just… sat out here with you two?”
I studied her. “Uh. Sure? I guess?”
She nodded and tentatively came a little closer. She took one of the chairs from the table, brushed pine needles off the seat, and sat down, folding her hands in her lap. Speaking so softly I barely heard her, she admitted, “I’m terrified of dogs.”
I blinked. “Oh. Really?”
“Yeah.” She watched Lily warily. “I thought… Maybe if I just sat with one who’s, you know, busy…” She trailed off as more color rose in her cheeks. “I’m sorry. That probably sounds stupid.”
