On Broken Wings

by Chanel Cleeton

  His gaze shuttered. “We won’t.”

  I’d always been honest with him, and if we were going to make any of this work, I couldn’t stop now. I moved out of his embrace, standing, trying to put some distance between us for what felt like one of the most awkward conversations I’d ever had.

  My heart pounded. I swallowed, not quite able to meet his gaze. The words came out in an awkward squeak. “Jordan told me you had—have—feelings for me.”

  It was so silent you could have heard a pin drop, and then an oath fell from his beautiful lips.

  “Easy—Alex—”

  “She had no right to tell you.”

  “She didn’t mean to. We were talking, and she thought I knew, and it slipped out. She felt terrible about it.”

  “Jesus.” He ran his hands through his hair, and I jerked my gaze away. This was too intimate, too raw, too potentially hazardous to my heart.

  “How long have you known?” he asked.

  I forced myself to look at him, the pain stamped on his face stealing the breath from my lungs. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did it feel like no matter what, one of us would get hurt? Why did the possibility of letting him into my heart terrify me so much?

  “Not long. A month or so. She told me the same day I told her I was pregnant.”

  His jaw clenched, that wall back up again. “What did she tell you?”

  “That you love me. You’ve always loved me.” My voice shook as I forced the words out, widening the chasm between us. I swore I could actually feel him pulling away from me with each moment that passed. “Is that true? Have you always loved me?”

  My words met moments of silence and then he nodded, and the look in his eyes suggested I was a fool for even asking, for not accepting it as gospel.

  I swallowed, my voice suddenly so dry, my heart racing. I pressed the heel of my hand to my chest, my lungs struggling to drag in enough air.

  “Since the beginning?”

  “Since the first time I saw you.”

  I remembered that day—we’d been at the squadron bar, Michael and I. He’d been so excited to take command of the Wild Aces, so worried he would make a good impression, uncharacteristically nervous. It had been such a big moment for both of us; my career had taken a backseat to his, but I’d still felt like I was a part of his achievements, as though in some small way they were mine, too. I’d been there through the ups and downs, given him advice after a bad day at work, been the support he needed in order to serve his country. That day had made me proud of him, and of me, and looking back now it was crazy how much my life had changed, how the littlest moments that at the time had seemed to be nothing—Michael introducing me to Easy—turned out to be my future.

  I took a step forward, and then another, reaching out and cupping Easy’s—Alex’s—chin until he met my gaze.

  I grasped for the right words. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed; I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us.”

  He made a frustrated noise. “That’s easy for you to say. I never meant for you to find out like this. I didn’t want to upset you, especially in light of everything else going on. I never wanted you to think I was somehow trying to undermine Joker when you were together—”

  “I never thought that.”

  “But it changed things between us, didn’t it? Tell me it didn’t freak you out when Jordan first told you,” he challenged.

  “It did,” I admitted. “It’s still does a bit, but probably not for the reasons you think.” I tried to gather my thoughts, tried so hard to figure out a way to explain to him how I felt without hurting him.

  “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. It’s an honor to be loved by you.”

  He looked stung. “Is this some kind of pity thanks for loving you?”

  “God. No. It isn’t. At all. This is coming out all wrong.” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. My hand slid down to my stomach, and his gaze followed, resting on our child. “It’s my way of telling you it means something to me. That I think you’re an amazing guy.”

  “This sounds a lot like you’re trying to let me down easily. I don’t want your gratitude, Dani. I haven’t done any of the things I’ve done for you because I loved you; I did them because they were the right things to do. Loving you was extra.”

  He skewered me.

  Couldn’t he see what he did to me? See how much this mattered? How confused I was?

  “I’m not trying to let you down easily. I’m trying to figure out how to handle this. I’m not saying it out of pity.” It was as though we were speaking different languages, and I wanted him to understand me, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t seem to find the words I searched for, the words I needed to ease the hurt inside him and show him he mattered to me as more than a friend. “You have to understand—I don’t really know what I’m doing here. And it’s obvious by now that I’m not very good at this, and our situation couldn’t be any more complicated.

  “I have feelings for you. I’ve always had feelings for you. They were different before, but somewhere along the way, these past few months, they’ve changed. I want you, and you’re one of my closest friends. But the rest of it?” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m capable of ever loving someone else again—not like that. I don’t know if I can do this again. If I want to do this again.”

  I couldn’t look at him as I told him the rest of it, the pieces I was ashamed of, that I hadn’t shared with anyone else.

  “Maybe I don’t have a right to feel this way; nothing that happened was Michael’s fault, but I’m angry. A part of me has been angry for a long time.

  “He loved to fly, and the right thing, the thing a good wife should say is that he died doing what he loved and that makes it okay.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “But what about me? He was my whole world, and then he was gone, and I was left with nothing. And everyone looked to me like I had to make sense of it, as though I could give his death some broader meaning, and turn it from a tragedy to some great heroic event.

  “And Michael was a hero, absolutely, but what about the rest of it? The fucking bad luck of it all? Do you know how many times I wonder if things could have been different—what if he hadn’t flown that night, if he’d taken off at a different time, if the upgrade to the F-16 had happened before that night, if he’d had the Ground Collision Avoidance System? It was an accident. A fucking accident that took my entire life away from me.

  “In the span of a year, I lost my son and my husband. I’m all out of things I can lose.”

  “Do you know how badly I wished I could have traded places with him? That I could have spared you the loss?” Pain filled Easy’s gaze. “I think about it all the time, too, remember the sound of his voice on the radio, the green explosion on my screen.” His voice cracked. “That moment replays in my mind all the time. I wonder if I did something wrong, if I should have realized what was happening, if I could have stopped it somehow.”

  I brushed at the tears running down my cheeks. “You shouldn’t. You did absolutely nothing wrong that day. None of you did. I’m angry, but I know—his death was an accident.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “That doesn’t make it easy to let go, though, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. I don’t want to end up like that again. I don’t want to—can’t—spend my days and nights worrying you’re not coming back like I did with Michael. I don’t want my kids to always come second, and even though it makes me a terrible military wife to say it, I don’t want to always come second. You’ll love this baby, you’ll do the best you can for both of us, but it’s out of your control. The Air Force owns you. I don’t want them to own me. I’ve given them everything; I don’t have anything left to give.”

  Alex wasn’t a guy like Thor, who could take it or leave it when it came to being a fighter pilot. Flying F-16s
was who he was in a way that scared me, in a way I knew all too well, because no matter how much he said he loved me there would always be a piece of him I’d have to share, a part I’d never really understand that craved taking risks with an intensity that terrified me, that faced death on a daily basis and walked away unfazed. Losing someone I loved wasn’t an abstract fear—it was real and it was hell, and I’d barely gotten out once—I didn’t think I could do it again.

  “If I weren’t in the military, would we have a shot?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  He took a deep breath. “You’re scared. This life weighs the heaviest on the families, and you’ve already sacrificed more than anyone should ever have to. I could tell you I would give up flying for you, and I would, but I’m not sure that’s the answer. Are you scared of being a military wife again or are you scared of losing someone you love?”

  I didn’t answer the question, but then again, I didn’t have to. We both knew I was terrified.

  “Flying isn’t the problem. I could get in a car accident and die tomorrow. I could get cancer. My job’s dangerous, but so is life. I can’t live in fear on the off chance something might happen to me, and I don’t think you should, either. It’s easier said than done with everything you’ve been through, but you can’t let your fear hold you back from taking chances, from living your life.”

  His voice thickened. “Joker fucking adored you. He would have done anything for you, and he wouldn’t want you to live your life like you died with him that day. He would want you to be happy, and he knew life is too short to waste it being afraid to do what you love.”

  My voice shook as the tears ran down my cheeks. “I know.”

  “I get it if you don’t want an asshole fighter pilot, and if it’s my job holding you back—”

  “It’s not your job.” The tears continued and I took harsh, racking breaths, trying to get the words out even as it felt like I was imploding. “I’m still angry, still hurt, still miss him all the time. I’m so scared at the idea of how I’m going to manage being a mom, much less the idea of starting a new relationship. I don’t know what I have to give.”

  “Dani.” Compassion filled Alex’s voice and eyes, the look I’d seen so many times shining through with the same emotion that had always been there, the one I’d failed to recognize—love. So much love.

  He got up from the couch and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, tucking my head beneath his chin in a move that now seemed so familiar, so us. I let myself relax in his embrace. His hands came up and stroked my hair, his lips brushing over the top of my head.

  “It’s okay. Things are complicated for you right now. I don’t expect you to have all the answers or to know what you want between us. I understand how confused you are; believe me, I still feel guilty every time I think of Joker.”

  “Me, too,” I whispered, the sound muffled against his chest.

  He pulled back, holding me at arm’s length, his gaze searching.

  “If there’s a chance we could be together, that this could work between us, then I’m in. You don’t feel the same way I do right now, and I understand if you don’t ever feel that way, but if you’re interested in seeing if there could be more than friendship between us, then I want that, too. We can take things slowly, however slowly you need to.”

  I wiped at my face, embarrassment filling me at how much I’d fallen apart in front of him again. I wanted to be further along in my grief than I was, had finally reached the point where I accepted that there was no going back, that this was my life now. But now it felt like the future was too far away, any hope of happiness or normalcy out of my grasp.

  “Why?”

  He cocked his head at me. “Why what?”

  “Why would you wait for me? You could have anyone you want, someone who doesn’t have all this baggage. Someone who could be normal.”

  Understanding filled his gaze. “What’s normal, Dani? Who doesn’t have shit they’re dealing with? I don’t know what I ‘could’ have, just that I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  It was so like him to say exactly what I needed, to give me the sense that even though I was terrified I would fall, if I did, he would be there to catch me. If I could love anyone other than Michael, it would be him.

  I wasn’t scared about his job, and my fears and doubts had nothing to do with him. It was me. The thing about putting yourself out there, letting someone in, the catch with love was that it had the power to destroy you. Once someone was your entire world, you had something to lose. And I didn’t know if I could survive another loss. Not after losing my son, my husband.

  But Alex—something about the new name made me think of him differently, somewhere between the Easy I’d known for years and the man I was getting to know now—was right. I didn’t want to live my life as though I’d died. And soon, it wouldn’t only be my life—it would be my baby and me, and I owed it to both of us to let love have a place in my life. I owed it to both Alex and me to see if there was more here. I owed it to Michael to live, even as I couldn’t quite get over the guilt about who I was taking this chance on. I told myself he’d loved Alex, and he’d loved me, and somehow I hoped he would want what was best for us.

  I stepped off the cliff.

  “I want to see where this goes.”

  He blinked. He didn’t answer me. He stared, as though he needed to acclimate himself to the words, test them out, try them on for size. He looked like a man who’d won the lottery and couldn’t accept his good fortune. He looked like mine.

  “I’m taking you to dinner. A nice dinner,” he amended. “If we’re going to see where this goes, then we’re going to do this right. I’ll be over to pick you up tomorrow night. Does 7 p.m. work for you?”

  And there it was—the shift from Easy to Alex, from the guy who deferred to me always, who had treated me like I was made of glass, to a different guy, one who wasn’t afraid to take charge, who was at his best when he led. It was as though he looked at me like I was a woman now, not only a widow.

  “Seven is perfect.”

  His lips curved, his voice filling me with warmth. “I’ll pick you up then.”

  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Will you walk me out?”

  “Are you leaving now?” I asked, surprise in my voice.

  I’d put the brakes on us having sex by wanting to talk, but I figured once we had talked, we’d pick up where we left off.

  “I meant what I said. We’re going to do this right. Next time we have sex, I want you to want it more than any fears or doubts in your head.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “‘Next time’?” I teased. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

  “I am.” He dipped his head, pressing his mouth to mine, his tongue sliding in as my lips parted. It was a fast kiss, but then again, he didn’t need a lot of time. In and out, he knocked me off my feet.

  As quickly as he kissed me he released me, leaving me staring up at him, staggered.

  “See you tomorrow.” He winked at me, and then he was walking out the door, swagger in his step.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready for this new version of him, but I had a feeling I was about to find out.

  NINETEEN

  DANI

  “So you and Easy are going on a date? Tonight?”

  I nodded, fighting back a grin at the unbridled glee on Jordan’s face. “We are, and really, we have you to thank. If you hadn’t told me how he felt about me, I never would have thought about us as a couple,” I teased.

  She groaned. “God. I still feel horrible about spilling the beans. How pissed was Easy?”

  “In the grand scheme of things, not really. He seemed more embarrassed than anything.”

  “But it all worked out?”

  “Hopefully. We’ll see how things go tonight.” I exhaled, my gaze sweeping over my cl
oset, scanning the contents, wondering how the hell a girl accessorized for a sex god. “Seriously, I need help here. The pink shoes or the silver?”

  I’d called Jordan in for an emergency pre-date summit, and really, more than fashion advice, I wanted moral support, needed someone to push me out of my nest.

  I’d gone out earlier today and bought a new dress and two pairs of shoes so I had options, figuring everything about tonight called for a fresh start. I’d also binged on accessories and lingerie . . .

  “I can’t do this.” I sank down onto the edge of the bed—the bed I’d shared with Michael—feeling like I was about to hyperventilate, panic pummeling me. I twisted my rings around my finger, holding on to Michael with everything I had. “Seriously, what was I thinking?”

  Jordan sank down on the bed next to me. “Breathe.”

  I took a deep breath.

  “What do you want here? Tough love or coddling?” she asked.

  “Which do you think I need?”

  “I say this because I love you—you need tough love. You need to forgive yourself. You need to let go.”

  I twisted the rings, the diamonds digging into my skin. She wasn’t wrong, but forgiveness always seemed hardest when you were the one who needed it.

  “You’re beating yourself up about this, and you need to stop. It’s a messy situation. I understand why you feel guilty considering Easy’s friendship with Joker, but this isn’t a situation where you left Joker for Easy or you cheated. Nothing is turning out the way you imagined it would, but all you’re doing is trying to deal with the fucking awful hand you were dealt. You lost your husband. It’s okay for you to be happy again. To love someone again. It’s okay for you to let yourself.

  “You guys didn’t do anything wrong. It’s messy, but so is life. You were an amazing wife to Joker. You have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. You can love both of them and not love either one of them any less. You can be excited about the baby, about a future with Easy, and still mourn the child you lost, still love Joker.”