by AK Waters
And she'd called his cell phone nearly every day but never left a message. She didn't want him to hear she was gone like that. But if it was on he'd see she'd called. He'd think it was because she missed him, which was true. Devin didn't know what she'd say if he picked up, though.
Soon, she would have to start thinking about getting a job to save money to start over. She had decided not to leave town until Cruz returned so they could do this face to face. They owed each other that much. The fact that he had not found a way to get any message to her forced her to the conclusion that he was just as tired of their problems as she was. It hurt so much, but she had to accept that this was probably the end for them. And if he had another woman and not just a one night stand, he might be making the same plans in his head as well. She didn't want to fight him over anything. Ideally, if they just walked away and forgot each other… easier said than done, she knew.
The next morning Devin felt some relief that her decision was made. She was down by the dock painting when Wyatt ran over.
"Hey, I’m taking the boat out, good wind. Wanna come?" He jogged away backwards toward the little pier.
She had been sailing with him a couple of times, but Jeremy had always come along.
As she watched Wyatt hop onto his little sailboat, she remembered Ann’s warning about playing with fire. She stared at her painting and then stared back at the ocean. Then she stood and gathered her materials. You only lived once and she'd been in such a mood lately. Wyatt knew the score. "Wait for me."
Wyatt had been teaching Jeremy to sail but since he wasn’t here, he told Devin she had to be his first mate. "You have to earn your way at sea."
She thought he was joking, but he put her to work.
As she released the ropes he had pointed to he asked her casually "So, what’s up with you and your husband? You don’t talk about him. Is he in Afghanistan or Syria or one of those places?"
She was concentrating on unfurling the jib. "No, I don’t think he’s in the Middle East."
"You ‘don’t think’? You don’t know where he is?" he asked, incredulous.
Devin kept working. "I think I told you he’s a SEAL. They are elite special OPs. They’re sent all over the world on secret missions. They train like maniacs for years. They’re smart, hardworking, determined, confident risk takers." Devin was using all the sarcasm she could muster as she threw a rope over to Wyatt. "Sounds thrilling, doesn’t it? I’m married to a hero in a Marvel Comic suit and I never know when he’s leaving or where he is or … or if he’s coming back. But I do know that the guys on the East Coast usually deploy to the Middle East." She thought of Riggs and didn’t feel like explaining how she knew that.
Wyatt moved close to her and asked her if she wanted a cold beer. She did.
They had caught a gentle breeze so they relaxed on the deck under a full sail. Devin didn’t know if it was the sun or sea air or the beer but she began to babble. "Being a military wife didn’t turn out to be a really good fit for me. I left him and I’m not going back. I feel like a... a failure, but I’m not like those women on that base. He deserves someone better. I can’t stay that focused and strong when I’m alone all the time. And before you try to give me an excuse about being young and idealistic, I was warned. Again and again about what I was getting into. But, I was so in love."
Wyatt pushed up on one arm and looked her right in the eyes. "Are you still in love?"
Devin stared up at the clear sky. After all this time, it was exciting to feel another man’s body so close to hers. He edged closer and their bare legs touched. Her lips quivered as she weighed the answer to that question.
Wyatt leaned down close to her face and she didn’t stop him as he softly touched his lips to hers. They were salty from sea spray.
She wound her fingers into his thick blond hair and pulled him closer. As he pressed his body harder against hers their kisses grew more passionate. He slid his hand up and down her thigh and she didn’t stop him.
When he reached under her t-shirt to tug at the string to her bikini top she knew things were going too fast but she still couldn’t stop him.
He started to slip off her shirt and Devin gasped and pushed him away. "Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Wyatt, I can’t. That was so wrong what I just did... to you... but I can’t. I can’t."
Instead of looking pissed or hurt, Wyatt smiled. "I think you just got your answer sweetheart. You still love him."
Devin closed her eyes ands sighed. "I do. I can't lose him, not matter what happens or happened. I need to talk to Cruz and see where his head is, too."
After they secured the boat to the dock they walked home in silence. Wyatt carried her art duffle. Devin realized how right Ann had been and she was not ready for her marriage to be over. On the deck of the house, she wished Wyatt goodnight and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you."
"For what? Making a move on you? Acting like an asshole?"
"No, for showing me what I already knew," Devin said. "I love my husband and I don't want to simply walk away and wonder for the rest of my life what I lost."
Wyatt nodded. "I get it. You're a special woman and he better be a special guy. I hope it works out and I hope he truly deserves you."
* * * * *
That night in bed, Devin was restless. She went to the window and pulled up a chair, staring out into the night and seeing the ocean under the moonlight. The scene from the boat played over and over in her head. Yes, of course Wyatt was gorgeous. He was dangerous. Also creative, like Devin. A free spirit, someone who understood when she needed space for her painting. Wyatt would be a perfect man to spend the rest of her life with. Except he wasn't Cruz. And Devin loved Cruz. But the nagging feeling of being cheated on reared its ugly head again. She would never sit quietly as her husband cheated, like some Navy wives did in order to stay in the lifestyle. Devin hated the lifestyle, there was no attraction. If Cruz had a mistress she'd turn away and never look back.
What would Cruz say if he could have seen her on that boat today? She wondered if she would ever be able to move beyond him. Would she wind up like her mother who had never gotten over her heartbreak? These thoughts beat on her for hours before she finally drifted to sleep.
It was well past midnight when the phone rang. She was sure it was finally him. With a shaking hand she answered the phone. In a small voice she asked, "Cruz?"
"Devin, it's Ann. I’m coming over to get you."
Chapter Seventeen
Lost And Found
It had been a tough run.
Cruz felt unrecognizable even to himself.
Hell week had been a cake-walk compared to this. After the jump and ammunitions, the last thing Cruz remembered was searching for the fishing boats in the vicinity of the harbor. The team had become suspicious and he had jumped into a Zodiac with two other SEALs intending to inspect the slowly approaching boat.
Maneuvering to prevent the boat from having access to the ship, they turned to face it head on in order to force it to stop. Confirming their suspicions, the boat began increasing its speed and the Zodiac was running side by side.
As the Zodiac got closer, one of the men in the boat began reaching under a pile of fishing nets for what looked like an AK-47. The driver sharply turned and rammed the Zodiac into the fishing boat. Pain seared through Cruz’s leg and a flash of light blinded him.
Cruz didn't remember if he'd been tossed into the water or back onto the Zodiac's floor, because he'd passed out. He didn't know how long he'd been unconscious. He remembered brief flashes of searing pain, his teammates hovering over him, gunfire, screaming, and even his mother's scolding voice in his head to be more careful.
He also thought about Devin and the mistakes he'd made along the way.
* * * * *
It took days of being in Melina’s care to feel whole again. His body had never ached so much. He begged for a bell to ring so he could quit. But that was not an option. The young nurse fed him medicine, cool wa
ter, soup and gently washed him with warm wet cloths.
The small shack felt safe. A young boy, about eleven, walked in and out, bringing items to the striking woman with the long brown hair and dark skin.
She whispered her name to Cruz, and kept asking his.
He watched her lips move in her local language, which sounded like a song, as she comforted him and asked him where it hurt.
When she helped him up to drink some fresh water, Cruz felt his lips crack against the cup. He knew he was in bad shape and probably lucky to be alive. Just doing something as simple as drinking or eating wore him out. Cruz was in and out of consciousness for days, never lucid for more than a few minutes.
His dreams were nightmares. He felt pain and was usually trapped in enveloping blackness. He was shot and burned in his dreams, hallucinating about his doom even when he opened his eyes.
One day he opened his eyes to see Riggs, frowning, standing across the room. When he tried to speak to his friend, Riggs faded away. Cruz closed his eyes and slept again.
But one thing was a constant whenever he forced his eyes open: Melina.
Melina never left his side for what seemed like weeks. Hour upon hour she gently rubbed oils on his broken body and massaged lotions on his tender skin.
Long before the panic of not finding the rest of his team had set in, or even more thoughts of Devin, Cruz swooned into her tenderness. He craved warmth, comfort. When the pain in his bones had finally ceased, Cruz reached up to scratch his now long itchy beard, but his arms still felt heavy. Being who he was, he fought it stubbornly.
The nurse instructed him to relax. As though she could hear his thoughts, she pulled out a razor and started to shave him. With each glide of the razor across his face, Cruz felt her sweet breath. She was so close to him, and her smile gave him strength.
He never wanted this feeling to end. He had been tired, broken, and confused for too long. This seemed like heaven.
Cruz did not think of Devin, or his friends, or his team in these moments. At the forefront of his mind was the drive to survive and feel alive again.
As the days passed and Cruz’s hallucinations began to fade, he felt an overwhelming closeness to Melina.
The moment he leaned in to kiss her soft, rosy lips, a harsh reality slapped him awake as though he had been dreaming this whole time.
Melina, sorrow in her beautiful eyes, watched him pull away. She shook her head and left. Cruz knew he'd made a mistake.
Still, a piece of him never wanted to go back to his real life. It was like a drug swaying in the comfort of this beautiful woman.
But as his consciousness began to crystallize, Cruz remembered the man he was and that he had to get home. As soon as possible.
Chapter Eighteen
The News
Devin could hardly pour the steaming water into the tea cups. Her hands were trembling.
Jeremy took it from her. "They can’t all be missing?"
Ann set the tea cups but no one touched them. "All of Team Five were missing for twenty four hours or so. They were ambushed. There were casualties. They have been tracking the survivors who were forced to disappear into the jungle and the villages. They were in deep cover and were trying to regroup. Search and rescue has been out there for three weeks looking for them."
"Where? Where the hell were they all this time?" Devin shouted.
"They were in Panamanian waters. I don’t know much of anything, only what I could pry out of my husband. They were fighting with drug lords. I only have so much information. Sam believes Cruz is alive and on a naval medivac vessel. I don’t want to give you absolutes because there is always a fog around these recoveries. Let’s get back to the base, honey. That’s where they will look for you to give you more information."
Jeremy nodded. "I’ll pack your stuff. Go wash your face and Ann will drive you home."
Ann lifted Devin's chin. "Let’s boot and rally. You need to get strong and get strong quickly. Forget everything else going on right now. Put it aside and focus on what you can control, which isn't much. We need to get you back to the base."
Within fifteen minutes, Wyatt and Jeremy had loaded her truck. Before she climbed in, Devin gave Wyatt an awkward hug. The thought of what she might have done on that boat… to have to go home with that on her conscience made her shudder. Wyatt gave her a quick, sincere hug as she climbed into the truck. He was a good guy, he just wasn’t her guy. "I hope we can still be friends at some point," Wyatt whispered.
Ann drove them back to the base. Jeremy followed in Ann’s car.
The sun was starting to rise as they pulled into Devin’s driveway. Fear caught in her throat as she saw two shadowy figures on the front steps. The headlights illuminated the men and Devin could see they were uniformed. Ann squeezed her hand. "Be strong, honey."
The officers met them halfway. "Mrs. Devin Diaz?"
Devin thought her head would explode. "I am."
Both men stared awkwardly at Devin and she felt like time stood still. Had it been seconds or hours before one of them finally spoke? Devin thought she was going to pass out from fear and exhaustion.
"Ma'am, it's my honor to inform you that your husband, Seal Team Five member Cruz Diaz, is alive and well and aboard the Ronald Reagan aircraft carrier stationed in the Panama Canal."
Devin threw herself into Ann’s arms and sobbed. Ann continued asking questions and learned that only six members of the Seal Team Five were coming home alive.
Six out of sixteen.
Devin felt Ann lean towards her for support for once. She looked up at her friend, who was now pale. Devin understood: Ann would have to be there for all of those families.
"Mrs. Diaz, as soon as we have more information I’ll come back."
Devin wiped her wet face with her sleeve. "Thank you."
He tipped his hat stiffly and the two men left.
Jeremy pulled up to the curb and hung back until the officers left. He joined them as Ann unlocked the front door and switched on some lights, her fingers shaking. Some things had been thrown around, since Devin had left so quickly. There was dust on the furniture and there was the faint smell of must lingering from the kitchen.
"Oh, my God! What if he’s on his way here now? Look at this place." Devin was panicked. "You can tell it’s been empty for weeks, what will I say, Ann?"
Ann had just opened the fridge and winced. "You didn’t empty it out before you left?"
Devin dashed over to the closet, pulled out a mop, a broom and a pail of cleaning products. Cruz was alive, and probably thought she'd been here waiting for him the entire time. If he came home right now and saw the house in disarray he'd know… he'd know about her leaving, and about the kiss. And about her giving up on their marriage. Devin wiped tears from her eyes.
"What are you doing? Go lay down and Jeremy and I will clean," Ann said.
Devin sucked in her breath. "All my stuff is out there in the truck. I have to put it all away before..." Devin went to the door.
Ann stopped her from running out into the yard. "You’re exhausted. You’ve been through hell but he’s alive. He’s safe. Let yourself feel that for a moment. You need to get your shit together before he walked through that door. You need to not look so tired and frayed at the edges. You need to just be his loving wife and have a genuine smile. Can you do that?"
Devin sat down and looked up at Ann, amazed at her strength and demeanor. It mirrored Cruz’s. "He was in a firefight. Lost in the jungle. Fighting for his life. I was pissed he didn’t call me. I left him while he was risking his life. I yelled at him about training too hard. I didn’t like the other guys’ wives. It’s no wonder he shut me out... and I left him. And what if he finds out what I did? I might lose him again, and I just got him back." She put her face in her hands and began to sob. "I don't deserve him. I've been so selfish."
Ann leaned against Devin. "Go lie down and rest. Let me be your friend and take care of the house. You're getting in the way."
&n
bsp; Devin snorted through the tears and chuckled. Ann always knew how to make her laugh. "I don't deserve you."
"No, you really don't," Ann said with a laugh.
Jeremy stood awkwardly nearby.
Ann handed Jeremy a credit card. "I want you to stock the fridge with fresh fruits, veggies, and get beer and wine, coffee and tea. A lot of people will be dropping by to see him. Fresh flowers, and buy one of those party trays with the cheese and crackers. Devin, what are his favorite foods?"
Devin didn’t look up. She heard Ann's words but she couldn't form a coherent thought right now. It felt like she hadn't cooked for Cruz in forever. She couldn't remember a single meal she'd made for her husband.
Ann gave Jeremy a nod toward the door. "Get whatever you think is best. You know what men like."
"Not a problem," Jeremy said. He took Ann’s keys and left.
"I need you to focus before you go to bed," Ann said and gently lifted Devin's chin with a slender finger. "What else did you do? Did you sleep with Wyatt?"
Devin’s head snapped up. She told Ann what had happened with Wyatt.
Ann sighed. "Well, that’s not so bad, honey. You know what you want now. This is your second chance to make it right."
* * * * *
The officers came again exactly at ten that morning. They told her Cruz had suffered a concussion and a broken leg in the attack. He had managed to swim across the harbor and crawl into the jungle, where he had been hidden by locals for weeks before he was able to make contact with search and rescue. He was in good health now, except for a cast. He and the other men from Team Five refused to fly out until all of the bodies of their brothers were recovered and could come home with them.